“What? Seriously?” Jethro called. “What's a bicycle?” he demanded, spreading his hands.
“Oh look it up,” the bear called back from around the corner. The ship shimmied and the lights flickered and then dimmed.
“Right, as if I have time,” Jethro said.
“You ever think they make these a little too realistic? The bear asked, looking up. He fought to stay on his feet as the gravity flickered. Jethro fell into a crouch, grabbing a hatch before he grabbed his boss. He straddled the knee knocker and pulled his boss back down. Just as he neared the floor the gravity cut back in and the bear belly flopped with an oof.
“Suit's good,” Jethro said, checking the bear's tell tails. They didn't need a suit breach drill now.
“My tongue isn't, I bit it,” Valenko replied in a weird voice. He worked his jaw. Jethro snorted as he gave his boss a hand up.
“It's just Commander Firefly having fun,” Jethro replied as his implants chimed. He looked at his HUD and swore. A map appeared, but he didn't need it. There was simulated casualties on deck two to deal with. “Gotta go boss,” he said. Valenko waved him off. “On my way,” he responded and dropped into a trot.
...*...*...*...*...
With careful timing and a bit of inside help, the squatter shuttle quietly made its way through the periphery of the exercise fields and to the station. The shuttle was ancient, burnished metal with faded blue markings. She was an Aurelie, an intervention class assault boat. She was an oval saucer shape on top, with the tips at the bow and stern. From bow to stern she was one hundred meters long. Outboard on each flank she had two circular swiveling thrusters that acted as her primary engines. They were canted inward at a forty degree angle sloping down and out. The engines swiveled in an inset ring, allowing them to swivel in a three hundred sixty degree arch. Embedded in the rings were force emitters that gave her a wedge as well as a shield. The best thing about the Aurelie according to her pilots was her shields, she had been the first small craft to have them over a thousand years ago.
She had also been designed to be hardy, she could, as the saying goes, take a licking and keep on ticking. Her underside keel dropped down to five meters from her saucer and stretched from her pharaoh beard bow to her pointed helicopter tail like stern. Four thrusters were embedded in the keel, two facing forty five degrees forward, the stern pair forty five degrees to the stern. These allowed for extra braking during hot landings. Additional thrusters and force emitters were embedded in a ring in her tail rotor assembly.
Embedded in the wing root on the nose were the cockpit windows. Inset above and behind them on either side of the spine were the bow force emitters, and air intakes were built in above and below the fattened wing root where the two engines attached to the body. She looked ungainly at first glance, but her center of gravity was perfectly balanced between her two engines.
One of her main flaws were her landing legs. There were four, one under each main engine, port and starboard with massive feet, and two smaller ones, one under the nose, another under the helicopter style tail. Unfortunately with landing legs instead of wheels the vehicle didn't lend itself easily to taxing on the ground. That made her very unpopular with naval forces since they normally had to move craft around in boat bays and on decks.
Interestingly though the designers had given the craft's landing legs the ability to articulate and 'walk' when needed. It was a fascinating thing to see the giant craft duck waddle along on the ground on just her two side legs. After the wear and tear on her hydraulics had been reported, pilots preferred to pop her up into a hover on her wedge and move her that way.
She was a hardy craft, larger than later craft and able to take in four full squads of outfitted Marines with supply. She'd been designed to fly like a helicopter with her tail, engines, and wedge, allowing her impressive maneuverability in flight.
Big Red had heard about these things but all he cared about was getting the craft to the station in one piece.
Governor Walker had the shuttle's IFF overlooked by watch standers who owed his people favors. The watch overrode the computer warning. They did however make a record of themselves doing so.
Using the chaos of the war games, the squatters used the shuttle to get into a depot station with inside help. The Governor watched their progress and was amused and happy over it.
Shortly before the fighter exercise terminated, the shuttle arrived safely at its destination. Cheers rang through the shuttle's cargo bay as they docked. Big Red shushed them, and then sent a team in suits to enter the station carefully. The very first thing they did was disable the computer and communications so no alarms would go out. Then they started studying the layout of their new home.
...*...*...*...*...
“Well, this brings back memories,” Hurranna rumbled, watching the exercises unfold on the locker room wall screen as the squad cleaned their gear. They had been doing a lot of that lately because of the various inspections, even going so far as to clean their lockers out with toothbrushes. She particularly liked to watch the live fire exercises, that had been cool to see. It had been fun to man a weapons mount and shoot things too. Seeing a target disintegrate had been awesome.
“Some of them not so pleasant,” Sergei grumbled. He hated the spit and polish crap. “Hey, they get anywhere with that fort thing you mentioned?”
“You of all people heard about that?” Hurranna asked in surprise.
“Who hadn't,” Jethro teased. “My question isn't the making of the thing, it's the opposite.”
“Blowing it up?”
“No,” the panther shook his head. “Remember hell week? The crucible? Boarding a ship? Will that work on an orbital fort?”
“How could I forget,” Sergei replied. “I still haven't forgiven you or Teddy Ruxbin for making us go through it.” During their final boot camp exam F platoon, made up of Neo's, aliens, and heavyworlder humans had been run through the ringer despite running into trouble on a previous exercise. They'd come through it at the top of their class, but they'd had to work at it like never before. Their platoon had set the standard that so far no other boot platoon had managed to meet, let alone surpass, despite all their effort in trying to do so.
The ship boarding had been a blast, it was supposed to be an exercise in frustration. Instead the team serving as the opposition force had been frustrated when they had thrown the by the book approach out the window and used their own tactics and strategy to secure the ship. The expression on the opposition's faces had been treasured and hooted about for weeks by F platoon.
“How can we get close enough to do it?” Valenko asked.
“And what do we do when we get there?” Sergei asked.
“All good questions,” Ox rumbled. “I for one am still busy helping to design one of our own forts.”
“We have to get to the station, through the point defense fire. Say a kinetic strike or missile strike to blow her shields down and strip away point defense...”
“What about a stealthy approach?” Jethro asked.
The bear looked at him and then grunted. “You and your suit?” Jethro flicked his ears in a casual yes. “It's certainly possible. But how are you going to get there? Walk? A shuttle or drop pod would be seen.”
“Shit.”
“You just like the idea of getting in and hogging all the fun,” Sergei teased, nudging the panther. Jethro snorted.
“I like the idea of getting in and shutting the defenses down so the rest of you can join in on the fun,” Jethro replied.
“Yeah well, playing super secret cloaked assassin in the pirates midst must have some appeal,” the white liger joked.
Jethro just smiled slightly. The others snorted in amusement.
...*...*...*...*...
The last major exercise rotation was an all up one. Even the Marines were in the exercises. It was a full Fleet joint exercise. One with Firefly against the rest of the fleet. The Resolution class light cruiser would act as the aggressor with a f
ew additions and a small squadron of phantom ships. The remaining ships of the fleet would take the roles of the defenders in a jump point defense scenario. They used the Beta 101a1 jump point as their backdrop. Dumb AI were left in charge of the minefields at the other jump points. Commander Logan wasn't comfortable about the exposure, but knew it was an acceptable risk. If anything happened, at least his people would be concentrated and better able to respond to an attack from another jump point.
For the assault Firefly had Sun-Yat, Centurion, and Hecate and was the aggressor squadron. Maya, Fuentes, Wendigo, and six simulated ships were the defenders. Since they had several reported incidents of intelligence gathering by the Horathians, Commander Logan reluctantly allowed Captain Mayweather to act on her knowledge of their being a minefield, but not on the details of the defenses.
The exercise began with Firefly's squadron simulating a jump in. As their systems stabilized they swore, the Commander had shifted the minefield through their network feed.
Purple Thorn had already swung into action, she fired a spread of warshot outward on all six axis. The warshots detonated in a cloud of sand and aluminum flashing, temporarily blinding the lidar and other sensors of the mines and orbital weapons platforms. Then they shifted position to prevent a lock and went to work, going to rapid fire as they launched their drones and fighters.
The defenders weren't idle, they were busy firing drones, missiles, and lasers into the soup Firefly had cooked up.
Firefly acquitted herself well, absorbing a great deal of damage but taking down Fuentes, Maya, and Wendigo. Sun-Yat and the two newly built escort frigates had been taken out by the minefields, but their sacrifice had blown a hole in the defenses allowing the larger Firefly through to gain fighting room. A straight on fight with the other ships made it clear, they didn't stand a chance against the larger ship.
Firefly's success had dismayed the planners, even Commander Logan had anticipated that the aggressors would have lost. They grimly made a note of the strategy employed by Firefly's command team and scheduled future time to find a better way to counter it.
“There were no gimme exercises, everyone went full bore, as hard as they could,” Commander Logan said in one meeting. “Get over it. Yes I would have liked to have had things gone a bit differently, but now we know. Now we see the problem, and we've got time, thank the spirit of space, to fix it. So get on it.”
“Aye sir,” Fuentes replied.
“Don't be a kiss ass,” Logan said, smiling to take the sting out of that statement. “But, in the interest of making things interesting... and just to oh, let's say, test the planned hardware let's say, let's just run that sim again. This time with a simulated orbital fort or two.”
“Sir...”
“And this time Firefly can have oh, twenty, yes, that's a nice round number. Let's say, twenty smaller ships of various classes.”
“Sir, isn't that well, stacking the deck?”
“We shall see right?” The Commander asked. “It sounds a bit lop sided in their favor, but we shall see.”
...*...*...*...*...
Commander Logan's third unplanned exercise surprised the still celebrating aggressor squadron. Mayweather smiled wolfishly. “So, they want a rematch so soon? We'll give them another drubbing.” That got the crews cheering once more.
They used several ships to simulate the orbital fort and then did a sim with Firefly and a fleet of simulated smaller warships. The outcome was a Pyrrhic win for the defenders. Still, it was a win.
...*...*...*...*...
The exercises turned to more mundane things once the last exercise concluded. PT exams, inspections, GI, engineering, inventory, ship's systems, proficiency testing, ship 90 day tear downs which were long overdue on some, in other words the whole enchilada as Logan said. A colonoscopy, Firefly retorted. Logan grinned and agreed. The colonoscopy term quickly made the rounds, it was widely agreed upon as the more acceptable term.
Word leaked out that promotion boards would soon be called after the hoopla concluded, which gave some a bit of a carrot to go with the stick some of their officers were hitting them with. Of course Firefly won many of the awards and bragging rights. The primary focus was on the navy side, ship and crew performance.
Chapter 8
The medics fell behind in the scheduled medical exams. It was inevitable, they always tried to book too many in too short a time, fifteen minutes was just too short a time for each exam. There was too much to do with each patient, the exams, getting their medical history, reviewing their charts, updating them, tests... Thornby and her people were frazzled and short tempered. Even more so when anyone even remotely hinted about an 'I told you so.' Of course Doctor Standish and Thornby both pointed out to their critics that the various exercises and the colonoscopy of the medics certainly hindered progress as well.
...*...*...*...*...
One thing that had been avoided for over two years but was finally coming into its own was dentistry. Marine's who had complained about being bored before, or tired of the weeks of GI parties, inspections, hurry up and wait, and testing had been eager to get it all over and done with suddenly wished they were anywhere but in the hated dentist chair.
“Why do we have to do this anyway?” Sergei griped. He was breathing through his mouth, the stink of the antiseptics was terrible in the confined quarters. Even in the almost claustrophobic waiting room. If they stayed in this damn place too long his eyes would start to water and his sinuses would clog shut. He hated medical facilities, they reminded him of death too much.
Hurranna rolled her eyes to Jethro. Jethro snorted. “Because we were ordered to do so? That had better be enough for you,” Jethro said.
“Damn,” Sergei sighed. “Can we at least get it over with? Sometime this century?” he whined.
“Someone's eager,” The T'clock nurse said looking up from behind her counter in the waiting room. “Since you are so eager, you can go first,” she said, indicating the door with a wave of her antenna and upper right hand.
Sergei muttered something pungent but headed for the door. A nurse wearing a mask escorted him to a waiting room. She looked up at him. “My you are a big one!” she said. She looked at the chair. “I hope you don't break it!”
“You should see my Lieutenant,” Sergei said, teasing the human female. He looked at the armatures attached to the chair. There were a few that looked wicked. Downright wicked. The light alone he didn't like, he didn't like bright lights in his face.
“He's bigger?” she demanded, eyes wide, voice squeaking.
Sergei chuffed, flicking his ears. “He's a grizzly.”
“Oh... oh boy. Well, we're doing enlisted now.”
“I don't see why they can't do this with nanites,” Sergei grumped. “Can't they?”
She pushed him over to the chair, not an easy feat since the white liger weighed over 400 kilograms. “No, sorry, some things have to be done the old fashioned way big fella. Now come on, be a good boy.”
“I'm not a boy,” Sergei rumbled.
She froze at feeling that rumble then shook her head. “Cat. I know. Cat. Okay. Be a good kitty and have a seat.”
Sergei sat with a sigh, muttering something about managing females as he tried to settle. His body was nearly twice as big as the chair, his legs hung off the end of the chair at his knees and his shoulders were far over the headrest.
“Oops,” she said, turning to view him. He untucked his tail and thrashed it to get the feeling out. “Yes, this is a bit much,” she said, looking him over. “Can you um, scotch down a bit? Until your shoulders and head are... well, the best you can..” she said.
He frowned and tried. His rear ended up near the foot rest. He was far from comfortable. His ears flattened. “This is just an exam?”
“Well, if he finds anything we'll take care of it. Which is a problem, I don't know why they overbook so often. He's already two patients behind. Dr. K is a great doctor, just try to be as comfortable as you can be. First v
isit?” she asked, picking up a remote. She used it to turn a wall screen on. She flipped it to some talk show and then cranked the volume. He growled slightly, annoyed at her choice.
“We can only get a couple of channels here, sorry. I'll get set up to take your X-rays here in a moment.” She turned and then stopped. “And don't touch anything. We're keeping a sterile environment here,” she said and then left.
He felt her go through his implants and then sighed. He looked at the screen then at the instruments and equipment. There was a counter with draws on his left. A machine was attached to the bulkhead on an armature above it. From the look of its tip, it was some sort of camera. He turned, trying to get his shoulders comfortable. He looked to his feet, there was the annoying view screen and a picture of flowers in a fake wood frame. The right bulkhead was blank.
He turned his attention to the chair itself. It was a light color, most likely green. He had never gotten the full color vision upgrade, just a partial. He could tell basics, but not fine colors that humans and some species loved to harp about.
The instruments were racked on either side on arms. A piece of cloth was on top of one, he wasn't sure why. Some sort of tape covered the handles for some reason. He wrinkled his nose. A package of smelling salts was taped to the armature with the light attached.
It took nearly a half hour of his fidgeting before the girl returned. She apologized profusely and then went to work. She stuck a black piece of something or other in his mouth with a plastic pair of pliers, then draped two pairs of heavy coverings over his chest and stomach. “What's this?” he mumbled.
“Lead shield. X-rays can um, cause cancer and stuff.”
“Cancer?”
“And sterility,” she said, making sure he was covered. He frowned. There wasn't much chance of that doing any more than he already had. He shrugged.
She took images of top and bottom on his right side, then his left. Then she removed the heavy cloth shields and left.
A few minutes later the doctor came in with her. “Private Sergei white liger? Anvil cat clan?” the doctor asked, pulling his mask down.
Jethro: First to Fight Page 14
