by Chris Hechtl
Many of his other friends and colleagues were scattered throughout the Federation. He did a check, and by his rough estimate, most of F Platoon had combat experience by now. He closed his eyes in pain when he noted four of their number were tallied among the dead. That sucked he thought. He vowed to hoist a few beers in their honor with his friends when they could find a chance to get together.
Whenever that was he thought.
<)>^<)>/
When he had a free hour, Jethro decided to check in with Valenko. The old grizzly had a new division. As he strolled through the quad, he noted it was squared away and neat as a pin. It looked like the bear had everything in hand.
He checked in with Fourth Division's administration, but he was directed to where the officer's gym was located. Apparently Valenko liked to workout before breakfast. The corporal at the front desk warned him that the bear would most likely be on his way back though.
The direct route to the gym from division admin allowed him to run into the bear. “Jethro!” the bear said, spreading his massive handpaws wide. “Oops,” he said, nearly clothes lining a lieutenant.
“No problem, sir,” the Neoape said in humor, ducking under the shaggy arm and going about her business.
“Good to see you, sir,” Jethro said as he came to attention and saluted. The bear snorted, sketched out a return salute, then waddled in and took him in a bear hug.
Bast blinked in surprise on his HUD. Jethro gasped; the bear was strong! He was lifted off his feet for a moment, then set down. When the bear eased up on the embrace and let him step back, he gasped.
Valenko chuckled. “How the hell are you, old friend?” he demanded.
“Good. Busy like you, and life has gotten rather complicated.”
“Tell me about it,” the bear said, rolling his eyes. They turned to walk slowly to administration. “I've got my hands full setting up the division.”
“And I heard you are in a competition?” Jethro asked carefully.
“With Lieutenant Colonel Harley and some of the other division leaders,” the bear replied. “We're all after the slot to be deployed to Destria.”
Jethro nodded. Leading a planetary invasion seemed like a plum assignment, but Jethro knew better than most what the risks entailed in such an endeavor.
“I think I'm out of the running though. I haven't been here long enough, and even though I've got the division up, it's still not as efficient as I'd like,” the bear rumbled.
“It never is,” Jethro said wisely. “There is always room for improvement,” he observed dryly.
“True,” the bear laughed.
“A major though? The leaves look good on you,” Jethro said.
“Thanks,” the bear said, touching the insignias on his collar.
Valenko had finally gotten out of Pyrax and had been promoted during Jethro's time away he knew. The big Neogrizzly was now a major with his own division. He was also on the short list to be promoted to lieutenant colonel, most likely because of his exemplary performance in whatever command slot General Forth stuck him in. Every unit the bear took on cleaned itself up in sheer self-defense, the Neocat thought cheerfully.
Unfortunately, he could tell right off that they weren't going to get too much time together to play catch-up. The bear seemed harried when they had met but seemed content with the job he was in. “And they gave you a division no less! Cream really rises to the top,” Jethro said in mock admiration.
“I know. I'm up for advanced promotion too just so I can keep the division, or so I heard,” Valenko said sheepishly.
“Well, you definitely deserve it,” Jethro said with a nod. He had a feeling they wouldn't get much into small talk about the bear's family or Jethro's new one from the way the bear kept glancing off into space and pursing his lips.
“I'm not trying to rush you, Jethro; it's just I'm busy. It never ends,” the bear said in apology. He grimaced and then shook his massive head.
“I know, sir,” Jethro replied with a nod and sympathetic smile.
“I put in to snag you as my top kick, but I was denied. Dana tried too, and she got denied as well.”
Jethro flicked his ears in humor. “Nice to be wanted in some ways I suppose,” he drawled.
“Smartass,” Valenko said with a sniff and grin. “It seems like you are going to be bounced around a lot,” Valenko said.
“So I heard,” Jethro said with an indifferent shrug and flick of his tail.
“It sucks. You should have a home,” the bear said, eying him.
Jethro heaved a sigh. “Home is … complicated these days. And getting more complicated every passing day it seems, especially since I got married.” He shook his head. “Right way, wrong way, Navy way. We do our duty and follow orders. There is a method to the madness somewhere; we're just too close to it I guess,” Jethro said.
The bear eyed him and then snorted. “In other words, have faith it will all work out in the end,” he said.
Jethro's ears flicked. “Something like that.”
“Look me up for beers sometime when I'm not pulling my fur out and putting out fires. Or in this case, chasing my people as they put out real forest fires,” Valenko said as he squeezed the cat's shoulder.
“Count on it, if I get the chance. I'd like some parenting advice actually, but …,” Jethro shrugged.
Valenko stared at him, then shook his head. He looked up sharply as if someone had pinged him, which they probably had, Jethro estimated. Finally, his brown eyes turned to back to Jethro. “Wrong person to ask my friend. And I guess why you need it will have to keep for the moment. Later,” he said as he waved and left the building. Jethro nodded and watched him go.
Valenko suddenly stopped and turned to stare at him. “Parenting … did you say married??” he roared. Jethro cupped a hand to his ear and then nodded with his best innocent expression. Valenko stared at him slack-jawed, then shook his massive head again. “And a parent. You've got some explaining to do later. Definitely later though,” he said shaking a finger at the Neocat.
Jethro snorted, came to attention, and saluted. The Neobear waved him off dismissively and then went back to where he was going, shaking his head the entire time in wonder or befuddlement. Jethro wasn't certain.
“Apparently he didn't get the word,” Jethro murmured to Bast. Bast merely shrugged on his HUD.
Chapter 2
Bast received an email request from Marine security as well as the local ONI office to update the base's firewalls and security files to protect the marines from the Xeno virus. She considered the problem for a long moment before she decided to do a bit of horse trading. First she would need access; she had no intention of turning the files over so they could be easily accessed, copied, and potentially taken apart by a Xeno virus.
She also wanted, no, needed additional processors if she was going to keep her eye on Jethro.
Her emotional modulators indicated amusement when she received an email saying they would get back to her on her request.
Apparently they weren't that eager to protect themselves from the virus she thought as she returned to watching over her host the best she could.
<)>^<)>/
“So, are we ready to finally do this?” Admiral Irons asked.
“I believe so. I'm just amused about how the competition has turned out,” General Forth stated. He felt a little nervous over it all.
“Competition … between the divisions, yes?”
“Yes, sir.” With more planets joining the Federation and regular interstellar trade picking up, recruits were turning up everywhere. Agnosta had its fair share as did Pyrax and Seti Alpha 4, but new marine and army recruits were being shipped in from all over the western side of the sector and the numbers were steadily climbing. So much so that they now had roughly a thousand recruits a month for the two branches. He knew the Navy had plenty of recruits that passed through Agnosta on their way to the training centers and academy in Pyrax, but they weren't his problem. The new troops we
re.
So far a majority of the recruits were for the Marines. That was changing as the Army started to get its feet under itself. He knew they had a long way to go before they were ready to stand up, so he was glad there was no active recruiting going on for that branch. Captain Yee was also busy as their local artillery expert so a lot of the Army was suffering for his distraction. Eventually that had to stop he knew.
But with so many recruits showing up with each convoy or tramp freighter, it meant he had to expand the corps at a faster pace. Many of the recruits had to go through a series of pretraining and medical cleanup before they went into boot camp, but some were ready from the moment they landed, enough to still force them to expand the boot camp until it was almost bursting. Hence, the expansion of the brigades into divisions.
Originally, there had been four brigades, his First, Archie Pendeckle's Second, Dana's Third, Myer's Fourth, and one planned for Valenko. They'd lost some good personnel and officers when the admiral had insisted the Army be started up, but they still had enough to expand faster than he'd expected. With so many warm bodies, he had given in and paired Myer's brigade with his own to form the First Division. Archie had not only his brigade but also troops that had been shipped in from Antigua as well as thousands of militia recruits from Protodon to justify his having the Second Division. Dana had moved herself and part of her senior staff up to form the Third Division, handing control of her Third Brigade over to Major R'nz while a new brigade had been stood up.
Valenko had shown up just after Dana's Second Brigade's command team had settled in. He'd been handed a full division to stand up from the beginning. He'd poached some good people from First and Third Division to do it. His was the greenest of the four divisions, but they were also the best in SIMS. They should be; he drilled them intensely, he mused.
At the moment, each division had two brigades. Each brigade had three battalions. There were five companies in each battalion, and four platoons made up a company.
They were still integrating infantry, powered armor, mechanized, and air units into the mess. If he had his druthers, he'd keep Major White Wolf and have her take over his division or set up a fifth division with a heavy air and mech component. But he'd been warned she had too many irons in the fire to be talked into it. After meeting her and noting her ansible traffic to Kathy's World, he'd come to the reluctant conclusion that the admiral and ONI had been right.
Which was a pity, she was good. She'd even given Valenko a pounding in some recent air SIMS they'd arranged.
He shook his head. His house was getting crowded again, but it was all good. He knew they could handle it. All this while the Army made up a single company of trained troops with a bunch of enlisted who'd barely scraped through Marine boot and had opted to switch branches he thought.
Valenko's division was almost up to full strength. It was one factor he'd had to consider in the “competition.”
He didn't even want to think about having to stand up another division so soon. But he knew he was going to need to do so most likely before the end of the year if recruiting continued at the pace it currently was. And if more planets were added, as he knew there would be, then things were really going to get hectic.
The other thing that bugged him was all the orphans he had out all over the sector on ships, planets, and stations. They were not assigned to a proper chain of command like they should be. Just another thing he would have to sort out soon he thought.
“Getting a bit rough?” Admiral Irons asked, breaking in to his thought process.
“Not at all. They've actually kept it pretty clean and let their records speak for themselves, which is what we're going off of. The final record is that Harley has more stand-up time than Valenko does, despite his combat record and his division's better SIM record. He's also still a bit short in the personnel department, not that he's let it stop him when it comes to SIMS,” he said with a sour face. “But I think he's been a bit cute about how hard he's pursued this command.”
“Oh?”
“He's gotten a bit aggressive about it pursuing it. I think he's employing a bit of little reverse psychology; I'm attributing it to 'don't throw me in that briar patch.’” he said. “I don't think Harley has figured it out. At least, I don't think she has.”
“You lost me on the reasoning there. Valenko … Valenko …”
“The bear. Major Valenko Kodiak I should say,” General Forth stated. He knew the admiral or more likely his A.I. would pull up the bear's record for him to look over. “He's playing his chess and thinking long-term strategic with his career goals. She's thinking short-term tactical,” he explained.
“Ah,” the admiral said as Protector put the bio up for him.
“I guess it comes from his Russian heritage. He's a wily old bear,” the general replied with a snort. “He may think he's pulled the fur over everyone's eyes playing the stereotype, but I know better. He's really after Horath. What he doesn't know is that I believe that Horath is going to be a tough nut and therefore, most likely an all-hands-on deck sort of thing.”
“True,” the admiral replied with a snort of amusement. “So, you think he maneuvered Harley into aggressively pursuing this command in order to open up a future one for him to slot into?”
“Almost certainly.”
“And you're going to let him get away with it?” Admiral Irons asked. The ansible leached out most of the emotion with the text messages converted into robotic verbal readings, but Jersey still read a bit of humor into the question anyway.
“Oh, definitely. Valenko might not have much seat time, but he's definitely damn good at the job. He's got the division eating out of his hand and setting records. Granted he's following in others’ footsteps, learning from our mistakes, but I know he's damn good. His record speaks for itself.”
“So why not send him to Destria?”
“Because I think his division could use the extra time to train … and because I think we're going to need his grit when it comes time to take Nuevo Madrid or whatever planet you choose next,” the general replied. “So, he needs to get the division fully integrated. They are still at 90 percent,” he said.
“Point. Okay, so Harley will be going to Destria. I'll have Sprite cut the orders to get the ships moving.”
“A lot of them, sir?”
“Actually, not as many as you'd think. She's getting a small task force, but as far as the division is concerned, she's going to get the second group of Marine transports. She's also going to get her hands on the first Marine command ship. That should make your bear regret not pushing the competition harder.”
“It just might,” the general replied with a chuckle. “I think I'm going to burst the bear's bubble and have his division relieve Pendeckle's in the next six months. That way Archie can get his house in order properly and the bear can really blood his troops.”
“Sounds good,” Admiral Irons said. “Hey, I've got to go. Major White Wolf's promotion was approved by the way. Um … crap, my schedule …”
“Yes, sir. Thanks,” the general said hastily. He knew a losing battle when he heard one. He glanced at his door to see his own appointment manager checking on him in the small glass window.
“Antigua out.”
“Agnosta out,” the general replied as he cut the channel to the ansible.
<)>^<)>/
General Forth eyed the division commanders and Major White Wolf as he met with them in the big conference room the following morning.
The coffee fiends had hit the urn hard and had forced the staff to brew a second and then third pot. They'd also blown through a lot of the donuts someone had thoughtfully laid out. He'd have to ask where they'd gotten them; the éclair he'd managed to snag had been good and fresh.
“Now that we've all had our morning caffeine jolt, I suppose I should get around to the business of the day before the sugar rush wears off and we all fall into sugar comas,” the general said as he stirred his cup.
There wa
s a soft chuckle from the assembly of officers.
“First up, we've got a winner on our unofficial competition,” he said almost absently. He noted out of the corner of his eye that the assembly seemed to stiffen and sit up straighter. “Colonel Harley, you'll be taking the fight to Destria,” he said after a long moment of anticipation. He reached into his breast pocket and fished out an order chip. He slid it over the desk to her.
There was a smattering of applause that grew before it faded.
“Congratulations, Colonel. Kick their asses hard,” Valenko rumbled once the clapping ended.
“Oh, I intend to,” the woman replied with a nod and small smile. She kept herself from smirking in triumph at the bear. It was hard. She'd earned the job and bragging rights, but she managed to keep a straight face as she nodded. “We'll prep for movement immediately, sir,” she said as she took the chip.
“Don't get into too much of a rush,” the general said dryly.
“Sir?” Dana asked, blinking.
“We're still waiting on transport from the Navy,” the general replied in a disgusted tone of voice. “They captured a couple of Horathian transports over the years, but we're using most of those to ferry troops to and from Protodon. They've got two others that had been captured in various places recently; supposedly, they were going to be refitted. That's a big question mark since they are pretty down the list on priorities,” he said with a grimace. “And I got word that one will not be used to carry troops. It's supposed to be a modified carrier design to carry our aircraft.”
“So …?” Dana frowned as she turned the problem over in her head. “What are we supposed to do, sir, walk?”
“No. We're getting our own transports within the next two to six months. I just got word this morning. Since we want to land your force in one go, you'll have to wait until they are all ready to go.”
“So they have to what, go through the working-up exercises and stuff? Are we supposed to crew them, sir?”
