by Chris Hechtl
“Relax, Colonel, those troops knew the risk they signed on for. We may not have gotten nearly as many as we'd like but we did suck them into the trap. And they will be wary of more. Very wary. And, if we play our cards just right, we'll make them believe I'm dead, buried in the rubble.”
“Ma'am?” he asked, looking at her in concern. She gave him a Cheshire grin.
“This isn't over,” she said softly. “It's only just beginning.”
Chapter 37
Major White Wolf and her forces were relieved by Major Pendeckle and his “borrowed” First Battalion when they arrived ten days after the assault on the mine. The Neowolf Major received fresh orders from Colonel Forth when the convoy arrived in orbit. She was ordered to return to Kathy's World, finish recruiting and then to return to Agnosta for reassignment once her term as president was over … unless she chose to run for a second term. From the rather sulfurous comments she'd made about the idea, Jethro judged that wasn't in the cards.
She might not have a choice though, he mused. Her own people could draft her with or without her permission. What was that saying about if asked will not serve? He sniffed and refocused on the arrival of the troops.
Security was out in force around the spaceport to protect their landings. Captain Lyon's forces were on the outer edge, keeping a wary eye out for any intruders. Unfortunately, the shuttles could only come in from two vectors, from the sea to the west or from the south. Flights over the capital were prohibited. It was a holdover law due to the dangerous threat of their dirigibles; one that the Marines decided to follow to remain in the local's good graces.
Jethro wondered about the major's future as well as his own. From some things he'd heard, she might be doing a stint at the war college either on Agnosta, in Pyrax, or even on Antigua. To his surprise he and the remaining Kathy World expedition forces were ordered to prepare for movement as well. It seemed he would be returning to Kathy's World before going on for reassignment.
Ever aware of a potential attack to spoil the arrival ceremony, they kept it brief and closed to the public. The Major arrived on a Warhawk and took a LAV his shuttle had landed with him and his HQ squad to Alpha Firebase while the rest of his forces began to land.
Moira met him outside the headquarters. The flag of the Federation as well as the resurrected Protodon planetary flag flew behind her. Gunny McClintock, Captain Lyon, Ensign McAdams, Lieutenant Chiang, and a pair of local militia leaders were there to meet him.
One of the biggest problems Moira had to deal with when working with the local militia was the complete lack of a chain of command. They had been arranged around a cell system. Many people in a cell were friends or family. Some were paid by locals to fight the good fight. Others had scrounged up whatever weapons they could find, or made their own. She'd gotten some order out of the chaos but they were maddeningly persistent about keeping their cells. Clans, she thought of them.
“What, no band?” Major Pendeckle asked as he climbed out of the LAV and rubbed the small of his back. “Damn, I hate those buggies. Like getting jabbed in the ass. And curling up in those seats …” he shook his head. He eyed the small assembly and then nodded to Jethro and Joshua.
He straightened, came over and came to attention as Major White Wolf saluted him. He returned the salute casually. “Major White Wolf, on behalf of Colonel Forth and Admiral Irons, I relieve you and your forces. Good job.”
“Yes, sir, I stand relieved,” Moira replied formally and for the record.
“Do you have a place to bunk us?” the human asked, looking around them.
“We have five firebases here, Major, and small outposts in ten of the nearby towns. Unfortunately, no, I don't have a formal base or barracks beyond what you see here,” Moira replied.
Major Pendeckle looked around, working his jaw. He eyed Jethro. Jethro flicked his ears. “We've been busy, sir,” he said simply.
“And shorthanded. And light on equipment,” Ensign McAdams muttered.
“As you were,” Captain Lyon said, off to the side.
“Yes, sir.”
“I noticed there wasn't anything about basing rights.”
“We've put it forward,” Moira admitted. She nodded and waved a hand to the two locals. “Major Pendeckle may I present Mister McCloud and Mister O'Donnell? They are the local representatives of the militia.”
“We dona represent everyone ya see; we're a quarrelsome bunch,” O'Donnell replied as they shook hands. “Yon she wolf has been on us about getting properly organized. I think she wanted someone to yell at,” the man said with a thick Celtic accent.
“Something like that,” Moira replied with a flick of her ears.
“And I take it that you two represent the planetary government as well?” Major Pendeckle asked mildly. Both locals just smiled, spread their hands, and shook their heads. The major eyed them for a long moment as their hands dropped then looked at the wolf. “Some mess you're leaving me, Major.”
“We do our best with what ingredients we're given to start with,” she replied to his slight acid tone.
“We were a right mess before she landed,” McCloud said, barking a laugh as he slapped O'Donnell on the shoulder. “Weren't we, Angus? You and I barely spoke to each other!”
“Aye, tis magnificent that we've come this far in such a short time,” the meaty O'Donnell admitted.
“Oh boy,” Major Pendeckle sighed. He looked over to see Captain Lyon fighting to keep a straight face. McAdams was just shaking his head and rolling his eyes in despair.
“Yeah,” the battalion major said nodding. “Okay. Let's go inside and see what the latest intel has for us. You can bring me up-to-date so we can start filling in the blanks in your defenses then go on the offensive.”
“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Locke and Arkangel are in the field, sir.” Moira said, falling in behind the Major.
The Majors paused when Pendeckle got to Jethro's side. “Oh, by the way, congratulations on earning the medal. I'm glad your skills have finally been recognized, Gunny. I wish you were staying on here.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I'll look into keeping you if the colonel will let me. I know you're an incredible asset, both in the field and in training the troops. But I understand he's got other things in mind for you.”
“I don't know, sir. I have been out of the loop, sir,” the gunny replied.
“I see,” the Major said, looking him in the eye. “Good to see you anyway, Jethro,” he said, reaching out and gripping his shoulder briefly. “Now let's get this briefing done. Gunny, why don't you and the ensign make sure the battalion goes where it is supposed to.”
“Yes, sir. We're on it,” McAdams stated with a tight nod.
<(>~^~<(>
Dez noted with a sense of detachment and relief that the Major had brought MPs with him. They were good, but she made certain to upload a watch list, the maps of the area, schedules, the facial hot sheet list, as well as the latest intel tip sheet. A Neoalsatian turned and gave her a nod then went back to work getting his people in line.
<(>~^~<(>
Jethro ran into Sergei when he got to the gate. “Sergei, you big lug?!” Jethro called out. The White Liger turned as he hopped off the back of a LAV. The small buggy bucked like a living thing, bouncing on the suspension as the sudden cessation of weight on its hind end made its compressed springs uncoil. The buck startled the other Marines climbing out or walking nearby. Two shook their heads as one pointed to the liger.
“Jethro! Or should I say, Gunny!” Sergei replied with a grin as he approached. He went to straighten to salute, but Jethro caught his hand and shook it firmly. The two chuffed as the Marines made their bemused way around them.
“I'm glad to see you old friend. It's been what, a year?” Sergei asked.
“Something like that. I see you've hung onto the rank,” Jethro said, slapping the bigger cat's broad bicep.
“Yeah,” Sergei said, flipping his ears. “By the skin of my ass and such I suppose you could say. It'
s been a wild ride. Boring for the past couple of months.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jethro said. “You'll miss the boring after a while.”
“That bad?” the liger asked.
“It's not as bad as it could be, but bad enough,” Jethro said, looking around them. He uploaded his plan to the liger as well as the noncoms nearby. Two turned and sought him out. When they realized he was the author, they nodded and moved on.
“Thanks for that. Let's get this clusterfisk under control soon. I want to be in with the adults and out of this damn cold and snow,” the liger growled.
“You always were a wuss,” Jethro teased. “It's going to be a tight fit. We're going to have to hot bunk in the barracks and throw a couple more firebases up. The Major had planned to expand the footprint here between Alpha and Baker into a full base, but there is a major trade road through it,” Jethro said, opening up an aerial map as noncoms came up to surround them. “And the fields nearby are farmers fields. Food is vital here since it's a city.” He pointed out slums, “And then we've got that. We've got some friends there, both as sources of information, labor, and good people. People who have been through hell and back so treat them right,” he said, looking about the group. A few people nodded. He locked eyes on a couple holdouts until they nodded grudgingly.
“Good. This is asymmetrical warfare. Both urban, suburban, and out in the field,” he said, voice deepening as he did his own in brief to those listening. Hopefully they would listen, and hopefully they would pass it on. “The enemy is fond of terror tactics, IEDs and all sorts of crap. Be very careful. An entry could be a trap. Hell, anything could be a trap,” Jethro warned. “The enemy has numbers on its side. The locals are divided on helping or hurting us. Obviously most of the Neo and alien population are on our side, but you can't take that for granted either.”
“Lovely,” Sergei breathed.
“We lost some good people, including my brother-in-law recently,” Jethro said. Sergei sucked in a breath and shot him a disbelieving look. Jethro nodded, cold sober. “Yes, that's right. A series of IEDs took Private Sabu and his entire squad down. The buildings here are thick brick to withstand the cold and have lead plating as well as lead based paint. So sensors are problematic at best sometimes. And sometimes the enemy will use them against you, so use drones and mechs for points and scouts as much as possible,” Jethro stated.
“Keep your people on task at all times. Don't allow day passes unless they are in groups, and even then they should be armed. Do not under any circumstances fully trust the cops here. Many were appointed by the damn pirates, and we can't root them out. They are willing to sell their own babies if the price is right. And don't think of them as backup.”
“Shit,” a Neobear Marine staff sergeant swore softly.
“They would gladly make you into a rug if they could. What I was saying about groups is important. It is very easy to get separated and snatched. Be on the lookout for snipers as well.”
“You don't pick planets like this out of a hat, do you?”
“No,” Jethro said. “Some of the militia is good, but they are completely disorganized and not willing to get with the program. They don't have good equipment, but they are willing to various degrees. They are also damn proud. Don't step on that pride but use it if you have to. The rest you'll get from your COC over the next day or so. Senior noncoms, detail orders to your subordinates then on me for alpha base HQ. We've got a party to crash and a briefing to listen to.”
“I hope it was good as yours,” Sergei said as Jethro motioned for them to move out.
Jethro flicked his ears as Sergei kept up. “I don't know. My question is, how many will be listening and how many will have their nose in the air? I seriously don't want to hear people got sucked into traps like we did here. This bitch needs to be put down.”
“Great,” Sergei said, all business. “So, you've been here how long and you haven't found a decent place to get a beer?” he demanded.
That got Jethro to laugh and chuff softly as they passed the sentries at the HQ and moved inside.
<(>~^~<(>
“Okay, I've received your updates, and I downloaded the latest reports and maps when we entered the star system. So why don't we skip that and get into the nitty gritty,” Major Pendeckle said as they got into the command bunker. “Save the tour for another day,” he said, looking about him.
“Yes, sir,” Moira replied as more officers followed them hastily in. She turned in curious surprise and nodded to a few as their IFFs registered. They were the command chain of the battalion. Did they land them all in the first wave she wondered? How stupid would it have been to have lost them all in a shuttle accident? But they hadn't she thought as she got down to business.
Moira explained their contacts, the militia organization, and sent him the morning’s list of potential threats intelligence had flagged. During her briefing Jethro and McAdams slipped into the room with some of the battalion's senior noncoms.
Some of the officers seemed contemptuous and disinterested until Jethro had had enough. He rose from his seat near the back and moved to where the others could see him. His movement made Major White Wolf pause and turn to him. “You have something to say, Gunnery Sergeant?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he stated flatly. He surveyed the group once and then decided to just go with it. “I'm seeing a lot of victory disease here, a lot of bullshit from people who haven't had their boots on the ground long and don't know the situation or the players involved. Know-it-all crap that will get them killed,” he growled, standing at ease. “Keep that attitude and you'll be dead, or you'll lead your people into a nice clusterfisk that will make Custer's look mild in comparison,” Jethro said.
The room instantly quieted as everyone stared at him in shock. “The enemy is good; they fight dirty with the tools and weapons at their disposal. They like traps. They have no problem with inflicting casualties, either civilian or their own. They are not afraid to bait traps with their own people if it means sucking you in to blow the shit out of you. If it is too good to be true, it probably is. Sailing in with a chip on your shoulder, all fat dumb and happy gets a lot of kids sent home in a body bag. Use your brains, your equipment and your training, not your balls and bullshit. This isn't a game, this isn't a sim anymore, and it damn sure isn't an exercise. I know most of you here, and I know many of you haven't seen lead flying your way. If you keep your head, you just might live to see the sunrise here,” he growled. “No promises,” he said, looking about the room once more.
That snarl got everyone's attention. Major Pendeckle nodded slowly. “Attitude adjusted, Gunnery Sergeant. Thank you,” he said quietly.
Jethro's slitted eyes locked on the Major for a moment. He nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
Jethro was aware that he'd just addressed a room full of officers in tones that could get him up on charges for insubordination. Hell the language could. But at this point he didn't care he realized. He had to get that crap, that sense of superiority out of them quickly if they wanted to keep their people alive. He wasn't sure if it would take or not. Hopefully he thought, catching some of the glances his way as Major White Wolf continued with the dog and pony show.
Some seemed still not interested in listening or not, understanding the messages and lessons the wolf was trying to impart to them. Many were shooting dark dagger looks at Jethro. But the few veterans in the room who knew the gunnery sergeant took notice. Then a few started to hit Jethro for his IFF. When they saw his history that he had been in every major engagement in the history of the reborn Marines, they sat up straight. When they got beyond that to awards and citations and the Medal of Honor topped the list, their eyes widened in surprise. They poked others, quietly explained who he was. That got the right attention, and they stopped taking the warnings for granted.
<(>~^~<(>
Bast was shocked by Jethro's outburst. She'd kept his brain chemistry level and normal for a long time. Keeping him calm and dropping him into the “bla
ck” when he needed to focus on a combat situation was just one of many things she did with his biochemistry. But the death of Sabu had forced her to back off and allow him to deal with the grief in his own way. Apparently his outburst and dressing down had been the relief valve he had needed.
She reflected about the situation, replaying it again and again, focusing on the expressions and vital signs of the officers in the room. Some hadn't taken the dressing down well, but a few had put their own emotions in check and had tried to listen. Only time would tell if they learned from it.
<(>~^~<(>
As the night turned to day, Lieutenant Locke reported to the major for a debrief. The major had brought his own Marine Intel team in with him. That got Lieutenant Locke's attention, that and their disdain for naval intelligence officers.
He put in a quiet call to his nominal superior. By 1500 Archangel had arrived at the gate for a formal briefing of the senior officers. He was put out about the attitude the Marines had for him and his profession. Two of the Marine officers were ready to interrogate any prisoners they had caught to extract information. Captured enemy equipment had been secured and sequestered for future examination and intelligence value. Some of the equipment had been judged booby trapped by Arkangel and had been made off limits. Techs were called in to verify the assessment.
<(>~^~<(>
Major Pendeckle heard about the militia's lone air asset and called Lieutenant Hawk in. The Lone wolf team arrived with their bird expecting a briefing.
String climbed out of the cockpit with Dom and Jo to find Marines securing the pad. Techs moved in to check the bird over.
“Now wait a minute! Hang on there! Just a minute!” Dom snarled.
“Easy Dom,” String said, pushing Dom away. “They are just trying to help.”
“The hell they are! Get your hands off my bird!” Dom snarled. A Marine moved in to stop him but String cut him off with a glare.
“At ease,” Major Pendeckle barked before things got out of hand. Sinjin, Lieutenant Locke, and Arkangel arrived at a trot.