by Chris Hechtl
His current assessment was that they were going to do some work with Captain Lyon when they got to Antigua. He was the new head of SPECOPS in the Federation military after all. SPECOPS was an umbrella covering all of the elite Special Forces in each of the branches of the military as well as a couple units in ONI that may or may not be in the field.
It was funny. At the moment, there were a couple Navy SEAL teams and the Marine RECON teams, and that was it. The Army barely existed; Delta was just a wet dream to the grunts for the moment. The SEALs had yet to be blooded in combat as far as he knew. Only RECON had combat experience.
Go RECON he thought.
If past behavior was any judge, the brass would have him and the others work on the Marine RECON training and regular Marine training facilities on Antigua. Supposedly, the brass had wanted a second base on Antigua … something scuttlebutt had said General Forth had opposed.
Since he was among other things a DI, that made sense. He could train the trainers and those with him could act as those same trainers … he frowned as the idea started to come apart a bit. It might be that way—a bit of paper pushing and training before they threw them at a true RECON mission behind enemy lines …
He shook himself and did his best to put the subject out of his mind for the moment.
<)>^<)>/
They arrived in the empty star system of B-452c and crossed it without much incident. There were warships there, more than expected, but it didn't come out that the star system had been unsuccessfully blockaded until they were almost ready to jump to Briev.
Letanga was the first to hear the scuttlebutt since he tended to haunt the crew lounge for their vid screen. He overheard a group of sailors talking about the blockade and how the Navy had tried to block the raiders of Epsilon Triangula but had failed.
He brought the news to the others once he was sure of his facts. The others listened grimly as he laid out what he knew. “It'd be nice if they would clue us in from time to time,” Shiku grumbled.
“Why? We're simple jarheads, remember? They point us and tell us to shoot. That's apparently all we need to know,” Tikaani said scathingly.
Jethro quizzed Letanga on what he'd heard. It was disturbing to hear that the pirates had managed to find a way to hyper skip. Apparently that was what bothered the leopard the most.
What bothered Jethro the most was that the bastards had jumped for Kathy's World.
“Word is they are running. They aren't raiding; we've got pickets in each of the star systems,” Letanga said as he realized why Jethro was so quiet.
“Yeah, but they've got to stop for fuel sometime,” Jethro said as the others noted his distress. “They've got a pretty hefty raiding force. And since we didn't know, did they bother to alert the planets along the path of the raiders?”
“We don't know if they did or not. Hopefully,” Tikaani said ears flat out to the sides. “I know they've got an ansible but …”
“They should get some warning. We obviously do not know the full story. The question is, can we get more?” Letanga mused, looking away. “I was probably lucky to hear what I did. I was playing a SIM with Blade and …”
“Blade?”
“His nickname. Kid who thought he was tight shit. Used to flash a switchblade until he pissed the wrong person off and they took it away from him. It's actually his last name. Anyway, as I was saying …”
“We can't do a damn thing about it,” Pamplona said.
Letanga looked at her. Slowly he nodded. “She's right.”
“There is nothing we can do about it,” Jethro echoed, heaving a sigh. “Except worry.”
“Right.”
<)>^<)>/
Letanga did his routine of exercising like the rest of the group. The Marines had a few bouts as well until the ship's overworked paramedic had put a stop to them. It wasn't like they wouldn't heal, and they'd only taken the worst damage to the medic. Apparently that wasn't good enough for her, so they had to find other ways to relieve tension.
His favorite by far was watching the ship in hyperspace. Going up and down the octaves and transitioning across a band was neat to see, coming out of hyperspace he knew as spectacular.
He'd watched when the ships in the convoy had assembled for the simultaneous jump. He'd hoped to have seen more; he'd been disappointed that distance had kept the other ships from being seen by the ship's sensors that he had access to.
He tended to flip through the various simulations of hyperspace when he got tired of one or another. None of them were real of course; cameras didn't work in hyper so the ship's computers simulated the space around itself to keep the crew sane. For him it was all about his viewing pleasure. It beat staring at four walls and the ceiling all day.
It didn't help to get his heart rate up when he exercised, so he tended to replay a fight or a fast-paced music video like the other Marines did. But his mind always turned back to the space around them.
The starbow effect looked cool he thought. It was his favorite. He'd checked out the wormhole one and the water one that water dwellers used … he really couldn't see what their interest in it was. He kept thinking he was going to drown when he saw it. He had spent a day wondering if the air breathers had trouble with it too or if they found ways to compensate. Probably was all he could come up with for an answer.
He glanced over to the others. They had another half hour in the gym before their time was up. He finished his reps. Since the other machines were busy, he climbed off and took a fast shower nearby before he settled in to be enthralled with the vision of flashing stars passing by once more.
<)>^<)>/
In between lounging about, playing games with the other Marines, doing PT, and talking in the mess, Jethro spent some of his transit time taking online classes for any upcoming noncom promotions. He was unsure if he wanted another promotion, but he mused that his family back home could use the extra money. And with the promotion would come a bit more clout to allow him to visit them more often.
He finished the E-9 sergeant's exam pretty easily, getting a near perfect score. Bast had helped him out immensely. She logged the file in the ship's database. She then got him to take the warrant officer exam. He'd held out for a day before her pouting had forced him to give in and take the tests and read up on it.
Being a warrant had some of the perks of being an officer … but also some of the hands-on of being a noncom. Neither fish nor fowl he thought. He'd flat-out refused to accept the offer of a commission that had automatically came with his Medal of Honor. He wasn't officer material. He could lead, that to him was easy. He hated the responsibility though, and he shuddered at all the meetings and paperwork that went along with a commission. Hell, some of the stuff he saw warrants handle came damn close to the same thing.
And therein was the rub. He freely admitted he was an operator—a hands-on person. But the higher you rose in rank, whether it was as a noncom or commissioned officer, the more seat and ass shining time you got. Eventually when you got high enough, you stopped being in the field all together and was relegated to pushing papers and pins on a board.
So, did he want a promotion? He asked himself as he stared up at the bulkhead one boring evening. The answer was no. Did he need one? Again, no. But he could use the money and clout. With four kits, he could definitely use the money. From his talks with Valenko and some of the parents at the barbeque, he'd found out that when they got older kids got expensive. Gender didn't matter either. Both might be into sports or clubs or both. They might be into shopping, clothes, vehicles, and whatever. When the boys started dating … he licked his lips. Women were expensive heartbreakers that men and their raging hormones tried to impress doing foolish and expensive things. He closed his eyes briefly. When the girls started dating … he growled. Bast flicked her ears on his HUD and glanced at him, but he waved his fingers for her to ignore it. She nodded and then went to whatever she was doing.
He turned over, closed his eyes, and did his best to get to
sleep. It wasn't easy though.
<)>^<)>/
As passengers they were disconnected from the day-to-day running of the ship and therefore sometimes out of the loop on how the ship and convoy were progressing and how much longer the voyage would take. Fortunately, someone in the crew occasionally put an update up on the ship's website or made an announcement over the PA.
Letanga loved the break-out party. There was little to see in B-452C, but he still loved the pyrotechnics involved. It sucked that he had to watch it all on his tablet though. He couldn't get enough resolution to make him happy, and jacking into the tablet had been something of a disappointment. The feed had been allocated for the limited screen resolution of the tablet.
He tried to jack the feed directly but got warned off by the quartermaster. So he was left watching it with his tablet for the time being.
He vowed to find some way to get a better view.
<)>^<)>/
They passed through the interdicted Briev star system without incident. Well, there was one thing of note, the person on the PA called attention to a convoy going in the opposite direction. Letanga and Pamplona rushed to see it with the vid feed but quickly got bored after a couple of hours of viewing.
Jethro didn't bother to look at all. It wasn't like they mattered to him, and the ship crews wouldn't tell them if it did anyway. They'd only found out a bit more detail about the blockade in B-452c a few days prior for instance. Apparently, the Navy was considering Marines as little more than meat robots … something the Marines detested.
He tried to scan for any data for him or news in general that the convoys transmitted to each other to keep their crews and passengers up-to-date. It took time for the communication's techs to sort through it all, and apparently, the crew had first dibs on the news and mail before it made its way to the passengers.
Again, he wished he was on a liner or some other transport vessel. At least then they'd have more than a small rec room and conference room or the mess to do something in. He didn't care to swim in a pool, but playing pool or something else would have been nice. Playing cards were starting to pall in his opinion.
Unfortunately, when the mail delivery was finished, he found none addressed to him. That was okay. No news was good news and definitely no bills he thought. It would have been nice to have heard something from Shanti and the kittens though.
He made certain the mail he'd composed during the trip up to that point had been transmitted. Briev didn't have an ansible, so it would have to wait to be transmitted in Agnosta when it got there … if at all. Since it was low priority, most likely it would travel via ship to Kathy's World.
By the time they got to Antigua … no, that wasn't right he thought. “Bast, do you have the shipping schedule? Can you tell when that message packet will get to Shanti?” he asked subvocally.
Bast checked the schedule and then put up a time. “Five months??!?” he asked, blinking in astonishment. Letanga glanced at him, but he waved him off. “Damn,” he muttered.
“What's five months?” Letanga finally asked.
“The mail to get to Kathy's World,” Jethro replied.
“Damn,” Letanga said.
“Yeah, I know. They need to get more ansibles up. Get them more bandwidth or something,” Jethro said.
“Yup,” Letanga said absently as he played with his tablet. Jethro glanced at him and then looked away.
<)>^<)>/
Bast was tempted to inform Jethro that she had also run the shipping schedules from Antigua to Protodon. Traffic went back and forth between the two star systems on a regular basis too. And it was only a short hop to Kathy's World she knew. The transit time for the mail packet would be cut to four months, possibly shorter if she could finagle a way to get the mail onto a regular courier. That was, if a courier was making regular runs between Kathy's World and Protodon she thought.
She'd have to find out when they got to Antigua. She made a note of that.
<)>^<)>/
In Triang they had to change ships. It seemed silly; they were getting off to get on another ship to go the rest of the way to Triang. But apparently the old axiom of right way, wrong way, Navy way still held.
Cargo would be transshipped between the orbital warehouses in the star system. They were fortunately not involved in that, though the Marines had been a bit nervous about being drafted to lend a hand. Jethro, however, had his own cargo to secure so he stuck close to his armor and supporting crates the entire time they were in movement. Shiku had decided to come along with him to avoid any work that the sailors might try to dump on them in the black cat's absence.
Jethro had no intention of returning to the old ship or the orbital warehouses at the Briev jump point, so Shiku didn't know it yet, but their little jaunt was a one-way trip and to hell with him sharing a room with the fox.
Because of that he was only peripherally aware of the changes in Triang. He had never gotten to the ground each of the two times he'd passed through the star system during his trips on Firefly. The heavy cruiser had just passed through the star system, skipping they called it, so he had no measuring stick to judge. But based on what he saw, with the orbital warehouses near the jump points and massive amount of space traffic in-between, he knew that the star system was doing quite well.
That might be why they were doing the swap he thought as he walked with his armor through the new Liberty class ship. Cargo and passengers were coming in from all three jump points. The ships dumped their contents at the warehouses and then picked up return cargo. Apparently the return cargo had been shipped via sublight transports to destination warehouses when the starships were not around …. hell, come to think of it, most likely when they were in the system too he thought as he stepped over a knee knocker.
The logistics people had it down to a science, with the right load in place in time for a ship to unload and then take on fuel and the return cargo. The old load was taken apart and shipped to the destination warehouses to start the entire process all over again.
“Are we getting to go to the ground at all?” Shiku asked.
“No. This ship leaves as soon as she's fully fueled and loaded,” the cargo supervisor said.
“Oh,” the disappointed fox said.
“You'll get groundside time in Antigua,” Jethro said.
“We'd better. I'm getting a bit tired of staring at four walls and smelling machinery,” the fox muttered.
Jethro flicked his ears but didn't reply.
<)>^<)>/
Letanga did his best to keep from flexing his claws against the arm rests. It was hard; sitting in the chair for hours on end sucked. The stewardess wasn't thrilled about letting them roam around the cabin, and she definitely had taken umbrage at Tungulria's attempt to curl up in the aisle instead of in his seat, but she seemed sympathetic to their instinctive desire to be anywhere but trapped in those seats. They frequently visited the head just to stretch their legs.
“Sometimes I wonder about humans,” Tikaani said.
“Why?” Letanga said.
“What crackpot thought of uplifting us?” she asked, shaking her head. “And then sticking us in here?” she said, indicating the claustrophobic cabin.
“You think roaming the ground would be better?” Letanga asked, clearly amused. “Let's find out,” he said, pulling out a tablet.
One thing that the shuttle didn't lack was inflight entertainment. It was a three-day journey across the solar system so they had to find some way to keep the passengers entertained. “What are you doing?” Tikaani asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Checking out the local planet,” Letanga said as he typed out a request. “Here's a tour,” he said, pulling up a website.
“Big deal,” she drawled. “It's publicity flack to sell the planet to visitors. It highlights tourist areas,” she said.
“True,” he said. His fingertip hovered over the button before he clicked the video link anyway.
The video started with majestic ca
mera pans over farmland. The narrator drowned on and on about how the planet had been an agricultural jewel until the pirates had come. There were some scars shown, most of them grown over before it switched to a more upbeat temp and cut to the growing spaceport.
Tikaani sniffed in disdain as they showed some of the hotels near the spaceport. “As if you want to live next to a port,” she said.
“It's for transients,” Letanga said.
“Oh, look at that one!” she said, fingers flashing out to hit the pause. She pointed to a new hotel complex. It looked like a roman bath. “Nice!” she said.
“I'd think you'd be more interested in the rolling plains and mountains,” Letanga said, looking at her.
“To hell with that! This gal would love a nice dip right about now,” she said, indicating the baths. “I always did like waterfalls,” she murmured. She clicked new tab at the top, then typed out a search of the hotel. A website came up. Unfortunately, for her, it just had still shots.
“Darn,” she murmured.
“Done?” Letanga asked in amused exasperation.
“Sure,” she said. He flipped back to the previous tab and then hit play again. “Nice,” he murmured when the camera view switched to some of the sites. They had a statue of Admiral Irons. He snorted. It was bronze and had the admiral standing on a rock leaning over to hand out stuff to people on the ground. The camera did a long spiral pan around the statue then went on to highlight some of the places the admiral had visited.
“Now that bar looks cool,” Letanga murmured.
“True,” Tikaani said. “Can we go there?” she asked just as the stewardess came by with the food cart.
“Unfortunately, no. We're going directly to your ship at the Antigua jump point. Your ship leaves soon so you won't have time for a groundside visit,” the stewardess explained as she passed out MREs on trays.
“Darn. Maybe next time,” Tikaani said as she settled back into her seat beside the leopard.
“Yeah,” Letanga said as he shut the tablet off and accepted his food tray and cup of water.