Jethro: First to Fight (63 page)

“I'll pass that on,” Jethro said, seeing
a familiar streak of yellow and black come through the door. Senjix looked
around eagerly. “I've got someone else here who'd like to talk to you,” Jethro
said with a smile in his voice. He handed the comm to the cheetah.

“Cheetara?” he asked.

“Senjix?” she asked, voice rising in a
chirrup of excitement.

Jethro snorted. He tried to give them a
little privacy, but other cats were coming to talk. Her cousin Corporal Senjix
eagerly spoke with her and promised a visit on his next leave. She was
grateful, they could practically hear her tears in her voice. Then Senjix
passed the link to some of the other cats who each made their greetings.

“I think she's lonely,” Senjix said
softly.

“I do too. If I get the chance, I'll try
to go with you. If you don't mind,” Jethro said.

“If I can get a ride,” Senjix replied,
rolling his eyes. “Thanks Jethro. I mean Sergeant.”

“It's Jethro. Going by rank is rude. You
know that. Get in there and talk to her again. Make sure you get her e-mail.
Ask her for pictures. We'll see if we can get her some too.”

“Good idea,” Senjix said, smiling and
flicking his ears.

“You're good troop,” Senjix said after a
moment.

“Yeah, well, don't let it on. It'll ruin
my rep as Fonz likes to say,” Jethro replied. That got a chirrup of laughter
from the Neocheetah.

...*...*...*...*...

Jethro nodded to the squad as he entered
the room. The Lieutenant has reserved the classroom for the day, so he wasn't
sure if it was for training or a meeting or what. Usually they trained daily,
about an hour online through the network, with maybe one half day a week
together in the field.

Now that Jethro was out of training the noobs
and into training the advanced courses he had a little more free time. The
advanced courses were more involved of course, relying less on teaching
advanced tool use and concepts over the basics of Marine corps life and
discipline.

“So, what's on the agenda?” Sergei
asked, nursing a drink. Jethro shook his head and went to the back of the room.
He poured himself a cup and then went over to a seat. “No idea.”

“The boss didn't tell you?”

“No.”

“Okay, so...”

“So, we wait. Be patient,” Jethro said,
taking a seat.

“Patient he says,” Sergei sighed. He
shook his massive head. “I hate waiting.”

“No, really?” Asazi teased, tugging an
ear. He batted her hand away. “No patience.”

“Damn straight,” the liger growled. “I
don't like surprises. We're the one that's supposed to be springing the
surprises on others. That's recon's job.”

“Which is why we're here, a bit of
restructuring is in order,” a familiar voice said. They shot to their feet as
the Major stopped in the doorway. Captain Pendeckle and Lieutenant Valenko were
behind him. The Major entered, giving the two other officers room to enter and
then stand to one side.

“For a while now we've thought of you as
a recon squad. Today that changes. You've been wearing a lot of hats. Your MOS
says recon, but you barely fill that role half the time. Recon is supposed to
ghost in and out, not get in the thick of combat. And definitely not to turn
the tables and tear the op force a new one,” the Major said.

Sergei flicked a lazy smile to Fonz who
snorted. Fonz turned and did a top and bottom fist bump with Kovu.

“So, we're changing a few things as I
said. You're MOS has been changed to Raider and Recon, reflecting your fighting
style and training with the powered armor.”

“Yes sir,” Valenko rumbled.

“Right now we don't have a Raider
platoon. Your squad is it. It will form the nucleus for the Raiders. Some will
be cross over's like your squad, some will be strictly Raiders. There will of
course be a lot of cross over's, so don't get all hung up on being Recon or
Raider. Neither fish nor fowl it seems.”

“Some are destined for bigger and better
things sir? What's above Recon and Raiders?” Fonz asked.

The Major glared down his nose at the
Private. Fonz blinked, gulped, and then came to a stricter form of attention.

Jethro didn't so much as twitch. He
burned though, angry that Fonz would break discipline by asking such a stupid
question. There was really only two groups better than Recon and Raiders, Drop
commandos and Cadre. Both were the elite.

“So, to reflect on the change in roles,
your next scheduled exercises will focus on your ability to ghost in and out
without getting seen. Get in, recon the objective, then get out without being
seen. To facilitate that, you will go in unarmed.”

Sergei fought a groan. Jethro's nostrils
flared ever so slightly. He'd heard that some recon squads had gone in damn
near naked back in the day. In a sim it was no big deal. But in combat? How
realistic was that?

Then again, for the Neo's like him, it
wasn't any big thing. He flexed his claws slightly. They had weapons. Melee
weapons, but weapons.

“You will also be forbidden to kill or
injure sentries. The key is ninja. Get in, get what you need, get out.”

Sergei frowned, glancing to Jethro, but
he was wise enough not to open his big mouth.

The Major went over to a chair, spun it,
then sat. The other officers looked at each other and then they too took a
seat.

“When we invade a world, there is an
order to who goes in first. You all know the saying, Recon leads the way. Recon
gets dropped in, they come back with the data, then we send in commandos to
break the enemy's defenses and open a hole for us to land our Marine troops in.
Raiders hit the hard targets. Once the beachhead has been seized, you'll link
up. Army will follow in to keep things secure.”

He made a face. They all remembered the
rivalry between the branches. Right now it wasn't a big thing mainly because
there was no other branches. The Navy and Marines were it.

“The Marines are the only
constitutionally mandated unit of the armed forces. We are tasked to seize and
hold the beachheads, to secure the naval stations, Guard the president, and
guard the embassy’s. We are the last line of defense for many. We are also the
sharp end of the stick, we get all the hard jobs. Well, most, once someone gets
around to reinventing the other branches,” the Major said. He smiled slightly.

“So, when doing your recon role, the
name of the game is ghost. Get in, gather intel and get out. Hopefully Corporal
Ox's drones will help there. I imagine they will prove immensely useful.

Ox rumbled as the others turned to see
him. He raised a hand briefly.

“Something to say?” The Major asked,
clearly amused. “This isn't class, even though we're in a classroom and you are
being schooled. What is it?”

“Sir, I had an idea about an assassin
drone. I was putting the proposal together.”

“Assassin?”

“Poison. I don't like the idea of an
injection, a dart would be preferable. But a gas might work. Or a nonlethal if
we want to go that route.”

“Death is rather permanent. Getting
someone knocked out so you can ace by is an interesting idea,” Captain
Pendeckle said, rubbing his chin. They looked in his direction. “Finish that
proposal. I can see the potential there.”

“Aye aye sir,” the Tauren rumbled.

“I don't see all of us able to get in
and out easily sir,” Asazi said softly. “Some of us are too big. I'm guessing
they will form more of a... support role sir?” she asked.

“Pack mule,” Sergei muttered.

“I'll let you figure that part out. I'm
planning a full up invasion exercise at least once a year. We're going to make
our arrival on Agnosta as a regular thing.”

“Fair weather or foul, so be aware of
that,” the Captain added.

“Right,” the Major said getting up. “So,
split up Raider and recon. Go over the Raider syllabus, I want each of you to
be fully proficient in it in a month. Six weeks work load permitting. I realize
you all aren't cut out to teach, but remember, you will have to do some
teaching sometime.”

“Sir objectives and mission guidelines
for the next exercise?” Valenko asked.

The Major turned to him, walking to the
door. “I'll let you know. Good job. Carry on,” he said, leaving.

Captain Pendeckle patted his chair and
nodded to them. “Semper Fi,” he said and left as well.

“Well!” Asazi said, shaking her head.

“Just trying to get a handle on the
roles. Personally, I don't care if I'm in recon role or Raider, if someone's
shooting at me, I'm damn well going to shoot back,” Fonz grumbled.

“And that's where you are wrong. If you
shoot back you can give away your position or the position of the enemy. For
the past two years we've either snuck around, or bulled our way through to the
objective, then back out again. That's going to change. We're going to have to
get a lot sneakier. A whole lot sneakier.”

“But keep the raider thing going in
parallel? How is that going to work sir?” Jethro asked.

“I think we're going to see a shift in
the sims,” Valenko rumbled. “I think we'll have clear Recon missions, and clear
Raider missions. We may even have mixes like before.  But well, as the
saying goes, the times they are a changing. We have to learn to adapt and
change with them.”

“Yes sir. We'll get it done.”

“I know we will. Together,” the bear
said. “So, without further adieu,” he said, waving a hand paw as he uploaded
the specs of the mission he had set up before the Major's intervention. “I've
got a small exercise to run. But I think we're going to run this short, and
critique what is recon, and what isn't and what we need to work on.”

“Yeah, I'd pay big money to see if
Sergei can really be stealthy,” Fonz joked.

“And I'd pay good money to hear your
bones break,” the liger growled.

“Knock it off and pay attention,” Jethro
said mildly, focusing on the mission package. It was a small map, but
interesting. “I propose a ghost, stick to the recon. Based on your outlined
objectives...”

Jethro ran into Ox after exiting the
daily shuttle. Ox waved from where he was standing in a hangar in front of some
sort of craft.

Jethro checked his chrono and realized
he had some time to kill so he sauntered over to his friend and squad mate.
“Long time no see,” he said.

“Been busy,” Ox rumbled, using his
implants to control a remote robot. The thing was obviously a custom job, something
the Tauren had no doubt created. It had a series or robotic arms of varying
size, two of which were buried in the side of the craft before them. The arms
were needed, the Tauren's hands were far too large to get into the tight
confines of the drone.

“New project?” Jethro asked.

“Something I've been thinking about and
finally got approval to test it out. We did a flight test yesterday.”

“Sorry I missed it. So what did you cook
up this time?” Jethro asked, looking at the thing.

“Well, if you must know...” Ox drawled.
“Being a nosy cat that you are...”

“I must, I must,” Jethro teased right
back, shooting the Tauren a teasing look. Ox snorted in return.

“It's an extended range UAV project. I
was going to go with something smaller, but the Major wrote a spec sheet, and
well, I always liked bigger.”

“Right.”

 Jethro looked at the black rotors
on top of the thing. They obviously did something. He remembered Helo's from
the old movies. “No force emitters?”

“No. Grav emitters are great, but they
make for a large energy signature, large enough for the enemy to not only see,
but swat with ease. Besides, they're locked out.”

“True.”

 The Tauren had obviously wanted to
make something that wouldn't show up on sensors so he had dug into the
historical archive and came up with a helicopter UAV. The robotic aircraft had
a bulbous head filled with sensors and long wings. It was a sea green with
subdued Marine corps markings on it in a ghosted gray.

A ball on the chin could articulate on
almost every axis, giving the flying robot excellent all around vision. It had
two pods on either side, one for flight, the other for ops. The flight side had
a lidar and radar array, as well as a cluster of flight sensors. Inside the
other cylinder was the primary look down array, a cluster of terrain mapping
lidar, forward looking infrared clusters, a cluster of cameras with different
zoom lenses, and a tiny radio receiver to home in on stray radio signals.

The craft had four prop blades and one
stabilizer. It had some teething issues and Ox was tweaking it. The interesting
thing about the project was the design was entirely original, the Tauren had
come up with all the internals from just looking at images in the historical
database. Since it was original most of the parts weren't locked out by the
fabricators. Ox had taken the time to design the fabrication and assembly steps
as well. He was just working out the programming bugs before handing the design
off for production.

“It looks good.”

“Just getting the bugs out. It's mostly
software now. I adapted a lot of UAV code Veber and I used with the remote
balls.”

“Ah.”

“She's a test bed. Once we get her
sorted out, we'll be able to mount various mission packages on the stubby wings
on the sides,” the Tauren said, pointing to the short winglets jutting out each
side.

“I'd wondered about those, with the
holes and all,” Jethro observed.

“All plug and play. We can plug in
extended sensors, or various weapon packages. Or even a pod to drop.”

“Sensor pod?”

“Or a small coffin pod. Not quite as big
as a drop pod, but for someone tiny...”

“Oh hell no, you ain't getting me to
ride in one of those things!” Jethro said, shaking his head. Not only was it
incredibly claustrophobic, but you had to keep emissions down, so you either
had to be physically tied into the passive arrays of the craft, or just
unconscious.

“It's just a concept right now Sergeant.
Nothing to start shedding about,” Ox teased.

“Yeah right, says you. I know damn well
you won't fit in one of those things,” he growled.

Ox shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Sometimes it pays to be big.”

“Right.”

Jethro stared at the thing for a long
time, then stood back, standing beside the Tauren. “Can you make smaller
UAV's?”

“Yes, been there done that remember?
Sensor remotes?”

“I know. I'm talking outdoor. Say,
small,” he measured out about twenty centimeters with his hands. “Or smaller or
bigger depending on the job. But camouflaged.”

“It depends on the tasking Sergeant,”
the Tauren rumbled, stroking his chin. “It could be done. Anything can be done
with the right time and skills.”

“I know. What I'm thinking is a remote
designed to look like a bird or bat. Something flexible, maybe made out of
plastic so it doesn't show on radar, and quiet. If it could fly like a bat or
bird that would be good too.”

The Tauren nodded. “I see where this is
going. And yes, there are plans in the historical database. Also in the
fabrication database. Generic plans though, each planet has different animals.”

“Yes and no, if it was seeded by Terrans
then we could get by with say, a generic hawk or vulture bird. Maybe a crow?”
Jethro asked.

The Tauren nodded, silently looking down
at the Sergeant. “I can do a crow I think.”

“Can you go smaller?”

“Why?”

“A crow is a bit big on say, a station
or something. But an insect?”

“Hmmm...” The Tauren mused. “It's
possible. I've seen those too. Let me see what I can come up with.”

“I'll pass it up channels to give you
permission to play.”

“Please do that.”

...*...*...*...*...

Getting into the idea, Ox made an insect
remote. He tested it out several days later in the Barracks. Jethro went along
for the ride but was quickly sickened by the jolting stride and strange point
of view. It did its job well though, acting like the cockroach it was designed
to mimic. It even wiggled into a vent and traveled the duct system to the
basement, then back.

“She's low on power. I could only tuck a
tiny battery into it,” Ox said when the roach slowed down. The little thing
skittered across the floor of the barracks, scaring the crap out of a few
people including Sergei who stomped it flat. The crew in the galley laughed but
Ox was a little put out over the death of his toy.

“Damn,” he rumbled, rubbing his temples.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sort of. I'm a bit, um...”

“It was an accident,” Sergei said. “I
didn't know what it was,” he said, picking bits of plastic out of his fur. It
had hurt like hell when he'd stepped on the thing, a piece of plastic had cut
his the bottom of his foot up. He picked a still twitching plastic leg out of
his heel and then dropped it with distaste into a baggie Asazi was holding for
him.

“I... I felt a shock when it died. I
felt it die,” Ox rumbled, for once shivering.

“You okay?” Jethro asked softer. That
got the attention of the other Marines in the room who turned to them. He waved
them off.

“I was connected to the thing through my
WIFI. I could feel what it felt, see what it sensed.”

“Shock?”

“A bit. I'm getting over it,” the Tauren
said. “I think I need to create buffer though.”

“You felt it die?” Asazi asked.

“It wasn't alive,” Fonz said. “So?”

“So, even though it wasn't organic, I
had given it a limited intelligence. Oh, only a tiny spark, a bot. But still
something. But no, it had no emotions.”

“So it wasn't alive or it was? I don't follow,”
Asazi asked, zipping the baggie shut. She sighed and reopened it when Jethro
picked up a tiny piece near her boot and held it up.

“It wasn't, but AI are. I'm wondering
now about link shock. If it had been a more sophisticated remote, would I have felt
it even more?” Ox rumbled, rubbing his chin.

“I wonder what link shock is like if you
are a pilot.”

“Ask someone like Deja or Hurranna that
question. Or one of the Cobra pilots,” Jethro said. “A topic for dinner? Anyone
hungry?”

Silently the group got up and headed to
the door. The discussion didn't die though, it became a topic of discussion as
they explored the implications of drone death while being connected. Jethro
snorted at the looks of amusement around their table. Other Marines chimed in
or just ignored them, thinking they were either putting on a show or talking
about something far over their heads.

...*...*...*...*...

Just before the first seasonal rains
someone got the idea of turning all the logs into bridges and temporary
buttresses for the roads in the outer edges of the base and in and around the
crudely constructed firebases. A few of the logs had been turned into
improvised seating or shade shelters but they still had tons left over. A few
Marine squads were tasked to experiment with the project but they didn't get
very far before the rains hit.

Some buildings had hand rails, but that
little feature had been overlooked. So had adequate drainage in some of the
civilian areas. More than one Marine was caught outside on a ladder cleaning leaves
and debris out of gutters while it pissed rain on them.

When the rain did fell the Marines
learned a valuable lesson about the need for gravel on the roads. All the dirt
roads turned into quagmires. Only vehicles with hover ability or 4 wheel drive could
get through. Many of the purchased civilian vehicles and even a few of the
hummers became bogged down and trapped. One enlisted driver came back
splattered with mud from head to toe after having to push his jeep out of the
muck while his officer drove. The rooster tail from the muck had just about
smothered him.

“Did you roll in the muck or just dive
head first?” Ris'ha teased. The Marine Private held his hands away from his
sides, occasionally flicking them down onto the once clean floor. The Marines
in the barracks had towels down to try to keep the mess from getting out of
control but they were all saturated to the point of uselessness.

“Very funny,” the Private muttered.

“How about you go back out, stand in the
rain and take your shower there,” a Marine said. “Seriously, save you some
clean up later,” he said.

“So not funny,” the Marine said, shaking
his head. He took his helmet off and mud dribbled off his scalp down his face. He
sighed as the men and women in the barracks laughed. Someone tossed him a green
towel with the Marine corps insignia embroidered in gold on it.

...*...*...*...*...

Jethro taught more of the Marine creeds
and the sentry orders. He was a bit embarrassed when he remembered he violated
them by talking to Commander Logan once. Oh it had worked out in the end, it
had helped the Commander and the Navy a great deal in the end, but it was proof
of a lack of discipline on his part. There were proper methods for such
actions.

Learning the NCO's handbook of tips and
tricks was amusing. He had seen it in the library, but really hadn't thought
he'd need to look into that so soon. Now he read it cover to cover weekly when
he had time. He'd scanned it into his implant memory. He wished they had an AI
or better search engine for it, several times he felt like he was sticking his
foot in his mouth. But it did help him grow and become more comfortable in his
new role.

Instead of being tasked with basic boot
Jethro had been rotated to half and half. He trained the advanced course, this
time with some of his former recruits as students. Valenko oversaw some of the
advanced courses, including Hostage Rescue, introduction to Recon, Search and
Rescue, introduction to Powered Armor, and Advanced Urban Warfare. Jethro and
most of the squad were tapped as instructors for a lot of the courses.

Jethro was also tapped to train the
basic sniper course in boot and the advanced recon sniper course. He also
filled in when other DI's were away or injured.

...*...*...*...*...

On a nice balmy day Jethro was called in
by a pair of DI's training the first level recruits. He trotted back to his
barracks where he found a sullen Kovu there with a couple of MP's and the DI's.

“What's up?” he asked warily, giving the
lion a look. He knew Rick and Sledge, both were good troop. Both seemed pissed
though, and the MP wasn't a good sign either.

“He was been visiting one of the boots.
We've warned him off twice. This is where we take official action.” He nodded
to the MP's. “Next step is the stockade and official notice.”

“Boots?” Jethro asked, straightening. He
turned to the sullen Kovu. “You forget military discipline Private?” he
growled, now all business.

“No sir,” Kovu said, snapping to
attention. His ears were flat on his skull. His tail was stiffly pointed down
behind him. He had an image of submissive attentiveness that Jethro knew fooled
no one.