by Chris Hechtl
“Very well. Don't approach if you see her again. We might have to stun her now that she is wary,” the A.I. stated.
“Yes, sir. I'll add it to the log,” the MP said, heartily glad he hadn't been asked to search the sewer for the cat. She was long gone; he knew that. But some people were perverse enough over failure to make you do something unsavory as punishment for getting into a situation that was completely out of your control.
“Good. Fletcher out,” the A.I. stated, cutting the circuit.
<)>^<)>/
Ox and Riley continued to work on converting the three Marine grade armors while also helping the new Cadre members build the scratch-built ones. Occasionally, they would pull in help from outside sources, never telling them just what the project was for. Commander Gray lent a brief hand with the electronics, and Commander Wong put his two cents worth in when they were vexed by a shield issue.
Since they had an extra A.I., Admiral Irons lent them another replicator. That and their prior experience allowed them to get four more armors done within eight days, a new record. The armors were for Roarack, Tusina Asami, Blue Eyes, and Omri Vidal, though only two of them would get the initiation that week. That number was narrowed to one when Blue Eyes came down with a stomach bug from eating something questionable while off duty.
Despite being new to the Marines and having little experience in RECON, Lance Corporal Roarack was a full blood, so therefore up next. The black Neowolf Roarack was from Kathy's World and was therefore a combat veteran of that planet's liberation campaign as well as the expedition to Protodon. He was quiet, very reserved but had an intensity about him that belied his innocence in the Marines. He kept a very professional air about him, which was one of the reasons he'd been picked for the Cadre.
When Admiral Irons came down to the planet to initialize the armor and operator, he gave Ox and Riley each a copy of Mercury to help them with the armor changes for the other bioforms. The two were like kids in a candy store with the new design A.I. Jethro found out about the A.I. through osmosis as the admiral showed them the features. It was called Mercury and had been created by the admiral but was buggy.
He noted that Bast wasn't impressed by the dumb A.I. after she checked it out. “So, just the one?” Admiral Irons asked as the Neowolf cocked his head. Slowly Roarack nodded. “Okay then,” he said, waving a hand to the wolf and then to the suit. “Shall we?”
“You heard the man,” Jethro said. “Let's get this show on the road, Lance Corporal.”
“I'm envious. He gets to nap for the next week or two,” Tikaani said with a sniff. Roarack flicked his ears to her and then climbed into the new suit.
<)>^<)>/
Lieutenant Fletcher looked into the Lil Red issue. He couldn't rule out that she was an assassin, but all signs pointed to a friend of the warrant. The cat had traveled on a ticket the warrant had left for her. Her story matched events on Protodon. The question was what he did to bring the incident to a conclusion.
He decided against bringing it up to Bast or the warrant initially. But when the warrant went off base for the next round of Cadre initialization, then stopped for lunch outside of the base before returning, things moved out of the A.I.'s control.
<)>^<)>/
Now that they knew what they were doing, Jethro didn't really have to be there for the initialization. But he wanted to be there, just in case something went wrong. He wanted to be on hand … even if it was to watch helplessly as Doctor Thornby worked.
Fortunately, none of that had happened. He'd been a fly on the wall once more while the admiral and A.I. initialized the suit and user. The process took less than an hour to complete and then he was dismissed to return to the base.
Since it was a Friday, he took the flight back to the capital, then lingered. He didn't technically have to be back to base right away; in fact, he'd dismissed most of the troops for the weekend.
He decided to play a bit of hooky himself and stop for lunch at a place in town, then swing by the main base for a ride back to RECON later in the evening.
Who knows he thought as he let his nose guide him to a buffet restaurant; he might run into a familiar face or two he thought as he went inside. A familiar scent did catch his nose, but it wasn't fresh so he dismissed it as he went into the restaurant.
“You just got here ahead of the evening crush. Lucky you. The grilling is about done, and we've got the beer cold,” the chimera greeter said from behind the cash register. “Is it just you or …?”
“Just me,” Jethro said.
“Right. Predator special,” the chimera said, entering it into the machine. Jethro flicked his ears in humor.
<)>^<)>/
Lil Red saw the familiar form of a black cat go into the restaurant she'd visited with the last of her money the day before. She was glad she had though she'd been bloated all night. She wasn't hungry now, but she'd lingered in the quiet hiding spot she'd found.
It was sheer luck that she saw the cat at all. She yawned, blinking then sat up straight. “Jethro?” she asked, cocking her head. “No way,” she murmured as he went inside.
She eagerly moved to follow but then caught herself and stopped. She didn't have any money and knew that the people that worked there wouldn't let her in. She thrashed her tail in annoyance but then decided to hunker down and wait him out. He had to come out sometime she thought.
<)>^<)>/
Jethro came out of the restaurant and stretched, one hand on his rather plump belly. “I am going to be so gassy tonight. But it was worth it,” he growled.
Bast tisked tisked, shaking her head on his HUD just as he saw something blond and fast move from the tree nearby directly for him. Instincts took over as his claws started to come out, and he dropped into a crouch but Bast blinked.
“Jethro!” a happy cry said as he felt someone small get to his right leg and wrap around it. “Um …,” he looked down to see the purring little monster. “Um …,” then the scent hit him. Bast put the image of Red up on his HUD, but he was already there in his mind. “Lil Red?”
“It's Red now, but I'm not red anymore,” the kitten said, still purring. She nuzzled his knee like it was the next best thing to catnip. “I've been looking all over for you! You have no idea what I've been through!” she said.
“Um …,” Jethro frowned, patting her. Patrons came out behind him so he hobbled her over to a bench and sat down gingerly. Bast rolled her eyes at him, but he ignored her.
“How did you find me?”
“I tried to ask at the station. The nice marine lady there said to try on the ground. I went to the base, but mean men chased me away,” Red replied in a little girl voice. “I smelled you out silly!” she said, sniffing him.
“You did what?” Jethro asked, clearly confused. He had no scent; his nanites scrubbed it clean.
“No, she didn't,” Bast said. “But she needs a bath,” she stated.
“Yeah, you need a bath. What happened?”
“I got chased by these mean marines when I came looking for you like I said,” Lil Red said as she pouted. “Weren't you listening? I hope I didn't get you into trouble,” she said, eying him with big wide eyes.
“No, no one told me, otherwise I would have come looking for you earlier,” Jethro said eying Bast. Bast shrugged, then shook her head.
“Come on,” he said as he tried to disengage her from her single-minded grip on his leg. “Come up here and talk to me. Where have you been? How'd you get here? You used the ticket, right? What about your sister?” He looked around.
“It's just me,” Red said. “White had kittens so she stayed home,” she said as she let him get her off his leg, then pick her up by the armpits to set her down beside him. That wasn't good enough though so she wrapped herself around his waist in another hug.
“Nice to see you too,” Jethro chuffed in amusement, purring a little himself. “You little devil,” he said, rubbing her head. She pretended to bat at his wrist but then went back to hugging him. She tr
ied to wrap her tail around him, but it got tangled with his own.
He got looks from passerby people. He did his best to ignore him as he teased her story out of her.
“Okay …,” he said thoughtfully as he tried to game out the situation. He winced when he realized he was in a pickle. He was on a secure military facility inside another secure base.
Had to deal with her situation, vouch for her. At the least, find out why the Marines had been after her and find her a place to stay. “Where are you staying?” he asked.
She stiffened, then shrugged. “Come on, Red,” he wheedled. She pointed to the tree.
He looked the way she pointed. “Okay, that's not good enough. You are a kitten; you deserve a home,” he said firmly as he realized he wasn't going to let her live on the street alone. Not on a strange planet he thought.
He felt obligated to help her; it was simple as that. If he hadn't left the tickets, she would have been on Protodon … and he'd heard that it was bad there after the most recent strike. No, here she was.
“Okay, look, I'll put you up. We've got a small motel on the base for visiting friends and families. I can put you up there temporarily.”
“I don't need much. I don't eat much,” Red murmured.
“I know. That's why I'm willing to do it, Red. We'll … we'll work it out,” he said as Bast rolled her eyes at him.
“Hopeless,” Bast murmured in his ear.
He looked down to the waif hugging him and then stroked her ears. Maybe so he thought but he still had empathy for another being after everything he'd seen and experienced. He'd deal with it and her.
Chapter 24
Major Scherer hadn't been injured in the bombardment. His ears had wrung, but he'd recovered. He'd been rather upset though about being covered by dust and debris from the shoddy office he'd occupied. One moment he'd been going over the numbers and production in the death camp, the next all hell had broken loose.
By the time he'd cleaned himself off, he had an appointment to interview new native singers and entertainers that would appeal to the younger audiences in the late evening and had gone out into the outer hall where chaos had reigned. The warden had been killed when a building had collapsed. He'd tried to organize the guards, but they had been bewildered by the bombardment. The prisoners mobbed a few of them.
Before he could get to the tower and call in to the tower troops to mow the prisoners down with their weapons, the prisoners had turned into a full-fledged mob. Apes climbed the wall, disdaining the injuries and their own starving bodies in order to tear at the guards.
Single shots rained down killing a few, but the prisoners climbed over the bodies. “Get this mob under control!” the major snarled, waving to the mass of Neos and aliens just as one got a hold of a weapon and fired it.
Adrian felt something hit him in the chest hard. He looked down to see blood ruining his blouse uniform. He brushed at it in befuddlement, but his movements were weak and uncoordinated.
Slowly at first, then faster, his strength left him as the blood did. His legs could no longer support him. The guards turned to him in confusion. One eased him to the ground and tried to apply pressure to the wound. Adrian saw a shadow loom over the guard. He tried to point weakly, but the snarling cat backhanded the guard aside, then tore at him with tooth and claw.
Adrian Scherer muttered “Mother,” as a grim Neocat lunged at him and tore his head off.
<)>^<)>/
General Drier winced as he tried to move. He and Koyko had sucked down most of the water in the jeep's small supply. They'd sustained the worst of the heat burns. Koyko moved stiffly but seemed to be recovering well. He envied her.
He knew he'd lost some of his hearing in the blast. His right ear had ruptured, which hurt like hell. It was why he tended to talk rather loudly. They had used up most of the jeep's med kit patching each other up.
That had been a day ago. He was on the move, trying to gather his forces for a counterattack. It wasn't easy. The forces that had been scattered in the towns and villages or out on patrol had fared better.
Colonel Hill had been confirmed KIA. Most of First Brigade had gone with him. Colonel Montreau was MIA. Major Lockhart was also confirmed dead. He'd just gotten word that Major Scherer had been killed by a mob at one of the prison camps. There were reports that the captives had ate the humans and then armed themselves to go hunting for more of his people.
Major Goddard had survived and was gathering forces around him. Captain Goddard had also survived; for the moment, they were his two most senior officers.
One officer he keenly wanted to know about still wouldn't respond to his hails. He had no intention of sending someone back into what was left of his capital base, not when the enemy would most likely track them back to wherever he was afterward. So he had to rely on random radio calls to try to get through.
“Captain Zhukov, are you there?” General Drier's driver and now radio tech asked. He looked nervous. He should be, Ruffus thought; they were highly exposed. He gave the captain another five minutes, then they'd have to move.
Which would mean Private Danvers would have to shimmy up the fir tree again, take down the antenna, and then do it all over again later.
The general took a sip of water. He was still thirsty; the PFC and Xu were as well. Heat exposure he knew. Their skin was cracked and blistering where it had been exposed. His itched; a sign something was healing. He felt like he'd been out in the sun too long.
He was also aware that he was talking rather loudly. Another side effect of the bombing, his ear drums had been blown out. He had a horrendous headache but was determined to get his people back to fight what had to be coming their way. Every moment was precious.
<)>^<)>/
Captain Zhukov heard the weak radio message calling his name. It was on their frequency, but he didn't recognize the voice. Nor did he trust it since it could and probably was being monitored … or a trap. It was encrypted though.
But, he had a duty to report if possible. And it was possible. Unfortunately, … or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, the antenna farm and satellite dishes had been blown away or into a tangled ruin. He went over to the farm and took a few minutes choosing an antenna and then bending it straight.
He shouldered the awkward antenna and then hopped up to what was left of a hill and then plugged it into a port on his hand. He raised his hand to the sky as if he was Zeus channeling a thunderbolt. Finally, he keyed the radio on and set it to the frequency.
“This is Alpha One to HQ. I read.”
<)>^<)>/
General Drier heard the voice and almost passed out from relief. He gripped the microphone, practically yanking it out of the tech's hand. “Short but sweet Dimitri. Get ready for trouble. Full court press. We're on defense.”
“Roger,” Captain Zhukov replied. The usage of his first name told him it was the general or someone close to him. He didn't have a sample of the general's voice in his databanks to check though. He was going on faith.
“Go to the fallback position. Watch your overhead and ears. They are listening and watching. The tables have turned,” the general ordered before a coughing fit consumed him. When he finished, he was bent over and barely able to breathe. “You hear me?” he demanded weakly.
“Roger,” the captain replied before he shut the channel down.
<)>^<)>/
“Still in the game,” Captain Zhukov said as he cut the circuit, lowered his arm, and then disconnected the antenna. He immediately rushed off the hillside and zigzagged away. He didn't feel safe until he was under cover again.
“Sir? Where did you go?” Lieutenant Zevaya accused.
“I just talked with higher. We're sending someone to the fallback spot.”
Zevaya wrinkled her nose, then nodded. The fallback had been meticulously planned by the senior staff but no one had ever considered it would ever be used. Now though she was glad they'd followed that protocol.
Unfortunately, she
had only a faint clue about where it was.
<)>^<)>/
“Romeo One, come in,” a patient voice said over and over.
Corporal Lishman hesitated and then keyed the radio. He wasn't sure what the hell was going on. Apparently, it was time he found out. “This is Romeo One.”
“State status.”
“Five by five. What is going on?” he demanded.
“This is an Omega situation,” a familiar voice took over the radio. He blinked, confused mind trying to cope with what had just been said. The voice's timber penetrated though. It was Captain Goddard. “We're falling back.”
“Falling back, ma'am?”
“Yes. Get clear of the town before you are overwhelmed. Gather your troops and weapons. Destroy any weapons or gear you can't carry. Get to fallback position, niner five niner baker on map Q by tomorrow.”
“Ma'am …”
“Damn it, don't make me repeat it or you'll be a private, Lishman!” the captain snarled. “I left you in charge of Fallbrook because you can think. So use that brain! Get to the fallback!”
“Yes ma'am. I'll gather up the troops and gear. Ma'am, what about the natives?”
“Kill any who get in your way,” the captain snarled.
“I meant our auxiliaries,” the corporal stated.
“Gather them up. Weapons, food. Definitely weapons and food.”
“Ma'am, what's going on?” the corporal asked as he tried to wrack his brain on the Omega … wait, Omega was last … that thought triggered other thoughts. “We're pulling out? How?” he demanded. “Where?”
“The damn Federation has shown up! Where have you been?”
“My radio was plugged in to charge ma'am. I was … off duty,” the corporal said, looking over to the empty side of his bed. Apparently the girl had left after they'd finished. Fine with him, one less complication to deal with for the moment.
“Well, pull your shit together. The Feds just bombed the shit out of us. We've lost First Brigade and a good chunk of Second. Get to the fallback so we can figure out our next step,” she snarled.