“No, it was easy. Training. The gunny's right, the more you sweat the less you bleed. I bet the other platoons are shitting bricks right about now,” Valenko growled. “But then again, the cream rises to the top. I think that's appropriate in this instance don't you?”
“Hell yeah, gimmy some love!” Sergei said, fist bumping Zebo.
“Yeah. I can imagine,” Jethro said nodding. He flicked a glance around. So far it had gone just about as he'd expected. The team had handled the IG exercise, the safety and equipment tests, and hot insert sim with aplomb. Twenty four hours in the crusher park and now they had either a simulated boarding or an outside exercise. He was hoping the outdoor exercise was next, the last thing he wanted was for them to get that on their last twenty hours. Being in a suit was bad enough. Being outside in a suit when you're drop dead exhausted was just plain suicide stupid.
“Ten minutes to clean up and eat. Get your asses moving recruits! We've got a boarding exercise to complete!” the gunny snarled from the overhead.
“Ah hell,” Jethro sighed shaking his head as he hot footed it for the door and the mess deck.
“Still think this was such a good idea?” the gunny asked as he passed him.
“I wouldn't miss it for the world gunny. Not in a million years,” Jethro said smiling.
...*...*...*...*...
Schultz opened a window to view F platoon. He was administering Beta's crusher, but since they were bogged down he could spare the attention for a brief moment.
Valenko was going the unorthodox route. Gunny Thompskins had assumed he'd send a strike team led by Jethro to try to take the bridge right off. Instead the bear had thought out of the box.
The boarding exercise was on one of the old freighters they'd recovered. Her drive, power plant, and frame were shot, so instead of trying to rebuild her they had turned her into a training ship. The navy used it to train crew to handle watches and emergencies. The marines used it for other things.
Called the fun house, or carnival ship by the opposition crew, it was rigged with all sorts of tricks to throw at trainees. Thompskins had been almost gleeful when he'd pulled the duty to pin F platoons ears back.
They better not disappoint me, Schultz thought, scowling. A beer and steak dinner were riding on how well they performed.
...*...*...*...*...
Valenko grimaced as they made their final approach. He checked his team stats and nodded. Sergei was in shuttle two. Zebo was in shuttle three. They had four hours to take the objectives and or pull out. It was going to be a bitch.
They had to take the bridge, main engineering, power plants, and if possible the armory. They had received downloads of the ship and her class, but he knew that the swabbies had modified her extensively so the ship plans were next to useless. Just enough to get them well and truly stuck in and bogged down when they least needed it.
“Damn. Hope this works,” Letanga said eying his HUD. Since this was a boarding exercise he was on point for one of the squads and not happy about it. He looked over to the others. Each shuttle had two squads inside and one outside. The pilots hadn't been happy about having one platoon riding on the outer hull in suits, but when they heard about the plan they hadn't objected. A few were extremely amused by the idea.
Valenko, Sergei, and Zebo would do a conventional attack from the inside, bogging down as expected. Jethro, Letanga, and Ox were taking a different route. While the others occupied the attention of the DI's and opposition forces the shuttles would undock and go back as if to pick up the next wave.
...*...*...*...*...
Jethro felt the jolt as the shuttle docked, he motioned with his hand to move out. He unclipped the safety line and then pushed off the hull. The squad was already streaming out, looking for the right airlock.
...*...*...*...*...
Ox passed two possible airlock entries before finding the one he wanted. They went in fast and quiet. His point checked the corridor and then waved. He made his way to a computer terminal and paused. He plugged in a padd and started hacking.
...*...*...*...*...
Letanga grimaced as he maneuvered the packs through the corridors. He found a life support station and paused as the neo-chimp Betty plugged the canister she had been carrying in. She nodded and he motioned them onward.
...*...*...*...*...
“They are screwed,” Thompskins said grinning. He wanted to blow the ship now, but he didn't see the need. That bear was cut off, Thompskins had cut dumped the air in the corridors and shut hatches so they were sealed. They had surprised him by wearing skin suits, but so far they had chosen the wrong door to breach.
“Bear bogged?” a corporal asked looking up with a smile. “That big white kitty cat is hopelessly lost. Probably looking for the litterbox.”
“Fell for it?” Thompskins asked, grinning.
“In a word. I wonder if they will learn not to trust a map?” he asked sarcastically. He shook his head.
“They will now,” a private laughed. He shook his head. “Shuttles went back for the second wave. They'll be back in thirty.” The lights flickered and then went out. Data screens went dead. “What the hell?” he said, looking around.
“Power surge. Or drop. Call engineering see what the hell's going on.”
“No... I don't think so,” Jethro growled from the back of the room. They turned to see the panther in the open hatch.
“How the hell...”
“Wouldn't you like to know,” Jethro grinned. His ears flicked as his team got around him to secure the bridge.
“Bridge secure,” he sent over his link. He pulled up a map and shot it out over the team net. He wasn't sure if the map Ox had sent was accurate so he wanted to be sure.
...*...*...*...*...
“Engineering cleared,” Letanga said nodding. His crew had used the sleepy gas to douse the real engineering room once Ox had shot everyone the real map of the ship and bypassed the security systems in the corridors around the three squads. The gas had knocked the crew out. He had taken a moment to blow the door, then the rest was clean up. Easy peazy lemon squeezy.
...*...*...*...*...
“Computer secure. Life support secure. Security secure. Engines off line. Self destruct isolated and bypassed. We're good,” Ox said.
...*...*...*...*...
Valenko nodded, one hand touching his ear in instinct as he listened to the report. “Good,” he rumbled. “Good.” Everything had gone as planned. “I love it when a plan comes together.”
...*...*...*...*...
“What the hell?” the Major asked with a laugh. “Fifty three minutes? Is that a new course record? And doing the job with only one drop?” He shook his head.
“Seems like it Major. It would seem that they learned from past drills and came up with their own plan,” Firefly responded. “The follow up navy team is impressed. The damage control team is a little upset however. There wasn't enough damage for their crews to test with.”
“Yes. You have a crack unit there Major,” Commander Logan said with a nod. “I'm suitably impressed,” he said, saluting them with his cup of coffee.
“I am as well sir,” the Major said shaking his head. “I thought for sure that the gunny would bog them down. Well that puts an unexpected crimp in the schedule.”
“Hot wash debrief of the exercise and equipment inspection,” Firefly responded. “We can drag that out an extra hour.”
The Major watched as the shuttles arrived with the navy team to take control of the ship. “Run both but I think they deserve a break. And we don't want any slip ups during this last exercise.” He nodded to the holo of the bear.
“Definitely officer material. He took the focus and let those trained to do a job do it,” Firefly replied. “He trusted his subordinates. I am curious if they had a back up plan though.”
“I am as well. I may sit in on this,” the Major said sipping a cup of coffee.
...*...*...*...*...
“How are they doing?” t
he Major asked, looking up from his paperwork to stretch. The debrief of F platoon was all he'd had time to be in on. That had been nearly eight hours ago.
“By that I mean the platoon exercises?” Firefly asked as the AI projector came on line. The AI cocked his head. “So far they are doing all right. Beta and Delta are having trouble with the full combat sims.”
“And they did so well with the IG inspection and testing,” the Major said sarcastically. “Well, it just goes to prove, no inspection ready unit passes combat.”
“Not very well at least. Beta was forced to rerun the boarding scenario twice. Delta is running that now as Beta is the last in the crusher. Alpha managed to handle it's fair share but it's an uphill battle since they are short on men.”
“And F platoon?”
“F platoon is doing the alternative exercises along with the normal crucible routine. So far they have done exceedingly well, setting a new course record for the boarding exercise and handling the crusher without major problems. However they did get a great deal of demerits in their initial IG inspection. Of course the fact that they got the inspection four hours earlier than intended might have something to do with that. A lot of their demerits were over um, as you marines call it, chicken shit things. Scratches and such.”
“And the other half of the saying comes into play. No combat ready unit passes inspection,” the Major chuckled, shaking his head. “Anything major?”
“Major major?” the AI asked dryly. The Major snorted. “No. Like I said before, most of it was as most grunts say, chicken shit. They earned demerits for scratches on equipment, heavy wear on gear, but all their suits, weapons, and equipment passed basic qualifying. Schultz is more interested in making sure they survive combat over having the proper creases in their pants and shiny boots it would seem.”
“Ah. A man after my own heart,” the Major nodded. “This alternative exercise...”
“Rescue. With a time limit. Something none of the other platoons will attempt since only the survivors of Alpha platoon have EVA experience.”
“Ah,” the Major nodded. “Let me see.” He sat back as he placed his right palm on the interface on his chair arm. He closed his eyes as the feed began.
“The exercise is to get to and evacuate a colony after that colony has sustained significant damage due to a quake. The colonies power is out, and life support is failing so there is a time limit. The platoon must get in with limited support, stabilize the situation and then get the people out,” Firefly said over the link as a plot formed.
“And they have an hour to do this?”
“No. Four hours is the projected time limit. They were given six rocket sleds to transfer people and supplies but two were deliberately sabotaged to make it harder. They also have a fuel limit.”
“Oh,” the Major smiled. “Who dreamed this up?” he had a sneaking suspicion he knew.
“Gunny Schultz. However he is administering Delta's run now.”
“So who is...”
“Staff sergeant Jacklynn sir. She is running the opposition force.”
“Wait I thought this was... oh tricky.” He smiled as various camera feeds came up.
“In order to make things interesting they will have a simulated riot. Order has broken down and the marines must balance getting enough people on the ground for security versus having enough fuel and life support to get people off.”
“Interesting,” he said. The final video changed to one of the suit cameras. It was a little jittery, but it seemed that they had left the two damaged sleds behind to get the job done.
“The Tauren Ox has been working on the sleds. The work crews were ordered to stall but the Tauren has taken a direct hand in the repairs and will have them working shortly,” Firefly replied.
“Interesting,” the major nodded. The other sleds came together in a gaggle above the colony. “What are they doing?”
“It would seem they are improvising,” Firefly reported. “I had thought they were overloaded. Attempting to dock would use up a great deal of their fuel. Too much to get back.”
“But they have something else in mind,” the Major said nodding. One of the larger suits, most likely the Liger Sergei held a rifle. He put something in the end then pointed it down to the rock below.
“Interesting. Calculating distance,” Firefly said. The view switched to the Ligers. They watched as he carefully aimed. Lines appeared as the AI measured the distance. “By my calculations they are fifty meters too short for this to work.”
“He doesn't seem to think so,” the Major replied. They watched as the Liger shot the piton. It flew out straight and true. The gaggle's sleds adjusted for the recoil with a brief puff of RCS fire.
The line played out and then the rifle jerked out the the Liger's hands. “Ah. I see you're right.”
“No, in this case, I was mistaken,” the AI replied sounding amused.
“What?” the Major asked, brows knit. He took another look at the scene.
“The line has yet to go slack. Which it should have done. Ah. I see,” Firefly said enigmatically. The AI highlighted a line playing out behind the rifle. “He has attached his safety line to the rifle. And the others have daisy chained theirs to his to make up the difference. Interesting.”
“And a good adaptation,” the Major nodded. The piton hit the ground and sank into the rock. The Liger reached down and clipped the end to the sled and then used an improvised turnbuckle to keep the line taught. “What are they doing now?”
“Getting off. The little motor in the rifle doesn't have the power to reel them into the rock in the time needed. So it would seem they are going down the hard way,” Firefly replied. Indeed, as they watched, one by one the team got off, attached a gripper to the line and then activated it's tiny motors and went down.
“The Lynx Hurranna is remaining behind to maintain station keeping,” Firefly replied. The bear was overseeing the team as they off loaded extra oxygen tanks, emergency life support bubbles, and spare batteries.
“It hardly seems possible.”
“An old concept. A bean stalk I believe is the layman's term. As long as the anchor keeps the line taught and they do not get a vibration they should be all right.” They watched as Sergei got to the ground and attached another line to the piton and then drove stakes into the ground.
“Safety measure. Smart,” Firefly replied. “As you would say, they have covered all the bases. They have this well in hand. I doubt the riot will go over well.”
“Somehow I do too. Oh well. How is Delta doing?”
“Bogging down. The gunnery sergeant is simulating an artillery barrage. Something they had not been prepared for and are not handling well.”
“Oh, lovely,” the Major scowled. “I'll have to have a chat with staff sergeant Jacklynn about that in the next meeting.”
“I would advise it. It would seem gunnery sergeant Schultz's lesson plan is the way to go. Although the material he had to work with may have played a part in it's success.”
“Possibly,” the Major smiled as he watched Delta getting reamed. “Remind me to have a go at Delta's training syllabus. I understand they couldn't do the suit fitting or EVA courses. They should have had had time to train for something like this. This is inexcusable.”
“Yes Major.”
He winced when a marine miss timed the end of a barrage and caught the edge of it and was sent flying. Sickbay was going to have it's hands full with Delta. “All right enough, I've got to get this report off. Let me know when the exercises terminate.”
“Yes Major.”
Chapter 11
“There is a problem with the graduation ceremony?” Matilda asked, coming into the wardroom. She nodded politely to Commander Logan and Vargess and then took a seat. She gave a slight smile to the steward as he put a cup of tea in front of her. She looked like she was finally getting comfortable in her uniform.
“In a word, yes,” Vargess scowled, shaking his head.
“We've go
t three graduations. The marines, enlisted class, and a small group of officers who have passed the accelerated OCS training.”
“We've had enlisted graduations before. Every two months. What's the problem now?” Matilda asked, stirring the tea and then taking a sip.
“Well, we don't have the facilities anymore. Now that the crucible has been completed the Anvil Parks department has asserted it's authority and taken control of the park to clean it up.”
“Which we were planning on doing anyway,” the Major growled.
“I saw the schedule,” Matilda said nodding. She'd heard the scuttlebutt, the Parks department had been more than a little put out over the damage to the park. “And a boat bay is out of the question, too many bodies?”
“Well, we might get away with that for the officers, but the enlisted and marines are a different story. There are two hundred and ninety eight graduating marines, and four hundred and sixty one graduating enlisted.”
Matilda paused and set her tea cup down. “That many?”
“We've grown,” Logan said shrugging. “We need the people. We're also running some of our current people through noncom training to improve their skills. And some of our junior enlisted as well.”
“Those that were taken in to man Firefly you mean.”
“And the other ships, San Diego, and the yard, yes.”
“So? Can't Lenny lend you another park? Or break the graduations down into individual ones?” Matilda asked.
“No. He was pretty final about it as well. Mr. Cravix made it quite clear none were available. Something about a planned concert event to take place on every park at the same time... But the schedule states that it isn't planned for another three weeks.”
“Huh.”
“I believe Mr. Cravix isn't happy about the damage to the park deck the marines used. There are considerable fines imposed,” Firefly reported.
“Fines?”
“Yes well, explosion damage, fire, water...” Firefly shrugged.
Matilda turned to the Major with a raised eyebrow. “Had a bit of a wild party?”
Jethro Goes to War (Wandering Engineer Jethro's tale) Page 19
