Jethro: First to Fight

by Hechtl, Chris

  Jethro snorted and then took in a deep breath. He cocked his head. From the smell Asazi was in or near an in-heat state of her metabolism. That was odd, the implants normally regulated it. Unless... did she get off on the work outs? She did seem to enjoy pasting her opponents... especially men. And she did let slip the other day that she used to wrestle and pin rich men for the odd credit or two... He flicked his ears and then shrugged the idea aside.

  He checked his implants, he had time. He was technically off shift for the next 2 hours. He got up and straightened his locker, keeping his back to her as she padded back damp. She dried off and then got dressed in her usual tank top and uniform cargo pants she wore while off duty. When he heard her blousing her pants over her boots he sat again, holding a tablet.

  “Did you look?” she asked. He shook his head. “Why not?”

  “I got into cleaning my locker,” he said. She snorted.

  “Here, give it over,” she said. He turned and handed her the tablet. She pursed her lips and picked through the ship's net before she found the archive. “I know I saw them somewhere...”

  “Archives?” Jethro suggested.

  “Maybe.” Together they hunted through archive until they found a bush hat design. It was an Australian style bush hat, with the front part of both sides turned up to accommodate ears and or horns. “This should do,” Asazi said, holding up the tablet.

  Jethro nodded. “We can try it.”

  “Yeah, I think Hurranna and the others would appreciate it too,” Asazi said. “Let me check here...”

  After a few minutes of looking she grunted in irritation. “They don't have it. Why wouldn't they have something so simple in the textile archive?”

  “It might have been deleted. Or lost when Firefly was a derelict,” Jethro suggested.

  “Well,” Asazi said, bookmarking the images. “We can make one.”

  “Make one? Me?” Jethro asked.

  “I don't mean you literally, I mean find someone who can make one. Let me look into it,” she said waving a hand as she downloaded the bookmarks to her implants and then handed the tablet back. “Eat?”

  “I thought you'd never ask,” Jethro said, flicking his ears in humor. She snorted and reached out to tug his ear. He swatted her hand away. She laughed, pushing him.

  “You aren't as bad as the bear or the liger, but you Neo's always are up to proving you're predators. Come on, let's go,” she said.

  Later that evening they crossed paths again. He could tell from the way she was walking with her hands behind her back and the slight smug expression on her face she was up to something. “Close your eyes,” she ordered. He sighed and did so. He felt her fit something over his head and under his chin. After a moment she patted him on the shoulder. “Okay, go ahead,” she said.

  “Okay,” he drawled. “I'm not seeing it you know?” he asked, raising an amused eyebrow and then flicking his ears. He cocked his head, feeling something brush the edge when he flicked his ears, but realizing he could flick them. With a hat on.

  “Come on, let's find a mirror,” Asazi said, poking him along.

  Further along the corridor they found a head. They entered the compartment, amusing a pair of techs there. Jethro looked around until he spotted his reflection in the mirror behind the sinks. “Cool huh?” Asazi said, all smiles.

  “Very,” he said, checking himself out. It was digicam, with a hexagon pattern mixed with the digicam design. Right now it was blending in to the ship's interior colors. He sent a signal to it through his implants and felt the cover respond. After a moment it changed to a forest pattern of greens, tans, and black. Another signal changed it to a tropical pattern, then an arctic one.

  “You're not normally so narcissistic,” Asazi replied, now crossing her arms in amusement. “Normally you're downright transparent.”

  “Funny,” Jethro drawled, looking at her in the mirror. “Very funny,” he mocked. She smirked. “Thanks,” he said, ears forward.

  She reached out to touch the hat. “Well, I'm glad it fits you. I was afraid you'd get a swelled head,” she teased. He snorted.

  Letanga exited a stall and blinked at his cousin. “Hey! I want one!” he said pointing. “Where'd you get it?” he demanded.

  Jethro snorted and flicked his ears. He then jerked a thumb over his shoulder to Asazi. “Talk to the miracle lady there,” he said.

  “Cool!” Letanga said, golden eyes turning expectantly to his team mate. “Where'd you get it?” he asked. “I had to use rubber bands to keep mine together like that when we were in the field,” he grumbled.

  “I've got a friend who can do it. She's pretty good at making modifications since she's a skinsuit tech.”

  “Cool! Can I have one? Can I? Can I?” Letanga asked.

  Asazi laughed. “You sound like a 2 year old. Fine, yes, I'll get you one too.”

  “You'd better get one for the others. They see us with them on and they'll want one too,” Jethro said. Asazi rolled her eyes.

  “Gee, what was I getting myself into. Fashion designer for Neo's. Fine.”

  “And Taurens. Don't forget Ox,” Letanga said.

  “Right,” Jethro said nodding solemnly.

  “Oh you!” Asazi growled, poking Jethro. The cat chuffed a chuckle, flicking his ears. “You know the real reason I did this right? So I can grab those ears when I need to get you to move,” she teased.

  Both cats laughed.

  Letanga washed up and then they left the compartment. They paused as a group of Marines passed, all headed to the galley. Several Neo's and even two Veraxin spotted Jethro's new head gear and asked where he got it. Each time he indicated Asazi.

  “Gee thanks,” she blushed at the unexpected praise and requests. “What'd I ever do to deserve this?” she asked. She did seem to preen when a rather large human male asked if he could have one too. Jethro felt him send his contact info to her implants. Asazi stuffed her hands in her back pockets, for once off balance it seemed.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Hurranna took an interest in small craft when she was assigned to guard the boat bay. She had wanted a pilot slot since she graduated boot, but had been put on an ever increasing waiting list. She sighed, watching the mechanics as they finished buttoning up a craft.

  It was a standard Skyhawk, the navy's version of the Marine Warhawk. The hawks were the most up to date shuttles in their arsenal. They were robust craft, able to share 90 percent of the same parts. They shared the same airframe, but there were some differences other than the obvious color. Skyhawks were work craft, carrying crew and cargo between ships or stations. They were navy gray with flat black trim along areas that saw a lot of heat, such as the forward swept wing's leading edges, nose, and canted rudders.

  The navy version had windows along the flanks under the wings. Passengers tended to be more comfortable with something to look out through. The Marine version lacked the windows, she'd found out that it was because each was a potential breaching point if a seal ruptured in flight. The Marines were a flat Marine olive drab, with again the flat black trim.

  Their rudders were canted inward, to lower the aircraft's radar profile as well as to make it more space saving on deck. The forward swept wings could pivot, folding at the joint half way along the wing inward to again save deck space. With their wings folded they looked like birds with their wings over their heads resting.

  The Navy Skyhawk had a hexagonal door on her port side near the bow, as well as the standard boarding ramp in the rear. The Marines had again opted for just the one door, the rear ramp. But the Warhawk was armed, with a drop down turret under the nose, and another on a robotic arm inside the main bay. The forward turret could soften up an LZ, while the robotic arm could deploy and angle out of the ramp to provide covering fire.

  The hawks were sleek, with orbital maneuvering thrusters and shields built right into her skin along her flanks. She had intakes under the wing root to suck in air, each could close during re-entry. She was a hexagon
in cross section, but looking at it from the side she looked like a bird, with the nose tapering down, the forward swept wings swept down and seeming to merge backwards into the body in a smooth transition.

  These hawks were relatively new, created when the admiral had been in charge. They had only STOL ability, short take off and landings, not a normal vertical takeoff and landing ability. But they were well loved by their pilots, unlike the gangly and butt ugly old Warhorses that seemingly everyone including the ground crews hated.. She glanced over to one far in the back. They had 2, one on Firefly, the other stored in the annex. They weren't the biggest shuttles though, the biggest was the Tauren designed 'Clear Air Turbulence'. They had picked that thing up with the Bismark and for some reason the powers that be wanted to keep it, not scrap it. She hadn't seen the thing yet, she'd heard it was huge though, with a massive plasma gun under her starboard side. The thing was bigger than the main guns on Firefly. Anything that got in its way would be vaporized.

  She glanced to the left, scanning the bay. There was one Marine Prejudice craft here as well. She was a retake on the ancient Terran V-22 Osprey, with swivel engines outboard on her topside wings. Her body was quite large, modular so she could handle a hab module, cargo module, or a vehicle loading block. She was painted in various shades of greens and browns and stood out since she wasn't as sleek as the hawks. She was another craft the ground crew loved to bitch about, mainly because her engines needed constant checking since their thrusters and intakes kept getting foreign object debris inside, fouling them during vertical landings and take offs.

  Unfortunately the Prejudice was only designed to land vertically, a screw up someone somewhere may have regretted after that oversight had entered combat and real world conditions.

  “You're relieved,” Private Presley said nudging her.

  She looked up at him. She had to look up, after all she was barely a meter tall when he was close to two meters. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, oh, avoid the new chef surprise, wicked stomach bug,” he said, rubbing his tummy.

  She snorted, flicking her ears. “I'll um, keep that in mind,” she said, clearly amused by the word of warning.

  “Don't say I didn't warn you,” he said. He came to attention as the mechanics passed them.

  “Some sigh,” the mechanic bringing up the rear said.

  “Huh?”

  The human pointed to Hurranna. She flicked her ears and then shrugged as Presley looked at her. “Someday,” she said.

  “Oh,” Presley replied with a snort. He nodded his head to the other human. “She wants to be in the pilot seat. I'm not sure why, she'd need a booster chair. And even with one she wouldn't be able to reach the pedals,” he teased.

  Hurranna turned a glower on her fellow Marine. “Yuck it up,” she growled, voice dropping into a yowl.

  “Do you want to give it a shot?” the mechanic asked. She turned to him. He smiled. “I can see if I can wangle you a ride.”

  Hurranna snorted. “I've ridden in the back often enough. I want a front row view,” she said.

  “Well, I can see,” the mechanic said. “Xander,” he said by way of introduction.

  “Hurranna she said in reply, flicking ears forward.

  “You off duty?” he asked.

  “Yes...” she said slowly.

  “Want to chat? I can show you the tech blueprints,” he said slyly.

  “On a first date?” she asked, smiling now herself as she tucked her arm through his. “Why not?” she asked as he chuckled and led her off. They stopped by the galley and avoided the chef's surprise. They set their trays down and rambled about shuttles, fighters, and other craft before the topic changed to jump point defense. It was a lively discussion, involving many of their table mates and people around them.

  It was a concern of course, they all held it. How to defend the system they were in from invading pirates? Everyone had their own theories, but the current consensus was that the minefields, orbital weapons platforms, and frigates on duty weren't nearly enough.

  “Well, how did they up the ante before?” Xander asked, sitting back and picking at his teeth with a plastic toothpick.

  “I think....” Hurranna cocked her head. “You know, I know they had more than just this, but I admit, I'm a Marine, we focus on ground defense, not space. Firefly?” she asked, looking up.

  The room quieted as the AI avatar projected itself.

  “Yes Lance Corporal?” the AI asked, clearly amused.

  “I'm sorry to bother you. DO you have any I dunno, links or something on jump point defense?”

  “Why are you asking?” the AI asked.

  “Usual bull session,” she shrugged. “Got a minute?”

  The AI snorted. “I am an officer.”

  “No rank in the mess,” Hurranna replied, flicking her ears and smiling slightly. “We're all friends here,” she said as Xander stared at her.

  The AI cocked his head for a moment and then shrugged. “The tradition does serve here, and a bit of an educational experience is appropriate,” he said, noting Purple Thorn in the room as well. The elf nodded, turning and then standing on the table. She took a seat, dangling her legs over the edge of the table.

  “Very well,” the AI said. “What have you come up with?”

  “Not a whole hell of a lot sir,” Xander said ruefully. “I'm a mechanic. I know the orbital weapons platforms are ideal, but they require constant servicing to keep them online. Each time we have to service them we put men and material in danger... and we have to lower the defenses as well. There has to be an easier way.”

  “I thought of cheap rocks, you know, scrap metal? But that would mess up any friendly ship that came in right?” another tech said. The AI nodded. The young man deflated. “Thought so.”

  “It would also be hard to keep it on station, things tend to drift,” Hurranna replied.

  “Yeah,” the guy said quietly, still looking down. Then he looked up. “Could we um, could we put them in nets? You know release them when an enemy ship comes? Sort of like a shot gun?”

  “Not enough specific impulse... though a kinetic weapon is an interesting idea. A properly handled ship would shrug off the impact with her wedge and shields though,” the AI mused. The AI was amused, hearing such ideas coming from enlisted... before, during the war enlisted were happy just keeping a low profile and getting the job done. Here many were truly invested in the betterment of their ship and the system. He made a note to explore the ramifications and the reasons later.

  “Let me show you some history so we are all on the same page.” The AI showed the Neolynx and her human companion a video of a jump point defense Firefly had encountered, complete with mines and orbital weapons platforms.

  “What's that?” Hurranna asked, pointing to an asteroid firing weapons.

  “An orbital fort. Primitive near the end of the war, but effective in some ways. The multi-kilometer thick stone acted as armor.”

  “So, stick shields and sensors and stuff on the outside weapons pods and then people in caves or something?” she asked.

  “No, well, yes and no. Cut shafts into the asteroid and mount missile tubes, weapons, habitation. Some were hollowed out.”

  “Like San Diego.”

  “That's a bit of a different story, San Diego is a Bernal sphere. It was inflated. These were rocks.”

  “Oh. So they purpose built these too?” Hurranna asked, pointing a nail at one. The AI pulled up an image of the asteroid fort and then used various frames to build up an intelligence profile of the fort. After a moment it showed a 3D image of the fort complete with tick marks pointing out various features. The 3D image changed to a wireframe as the AI overlaid possible interior layouts.

  “Ah. Cool. Were they any good?”

  “Some were very good. Without the need for a drive the power reserves could be used for just weapons and shielding. And with such armor, they could take hits that would crack me in half.”

  “Interesting.”

&
nbsp; “The hull was reworked over time, the older the fort the more likely the crew took the time to do that during regular upgrade and maintenance cycles. It also depended on the system, if they had the time they'd throw a lot of effort into refining the fort, using nanites or robots to melt the shell and plate it with titanium composites, or chobham armor. Spall shields, angled armor, crystal armor... Even self sealing layers. Whatever they could think of with the time and resources they had on hand... if they didn't want to make a bunch more of the things.”

  “Cool. Um... just wondering now, any word on if we're going to have to assault one?”

  “In Horath?” Firefly asked, now surprised. “It's a possibility,” the AI responded slowly, now genuinely thinking about it. “Park one of these or a group of these around a jump point and they would rule the roost. Anything coming out of hyper would get reamed.”

  “Great. And cracking a nut like that... no easy task. Boarding actions...” Hurranna murmured.

  “Yeah, not a high survival scenario,” Firefly responded, writing a memo to intelligence and the Commander to look into the possibility of Horathian orbital forts.

  “What I'm also wondering is, if these are so damn tough, why don't we have them? I mean other than San Diego?” the lynx asked.

  Firefly stared at the Neocat for a brief moment before he let out a loud chuckle. “I expected something of that nature from your cohort Jethro. Hearing it from you though...”

  “Why sir?” Hurranna asked, now offended.

  “No no, it's nothing like that. I'm surprised at myself for not thinking of it too. I'll pass that along with your name tagged to it. Good work Lance Corporal Hurranna,” the AI responded as he sent another memo to Commander Logan as well as the system defense design team.