“Suddenly I'm glad I'm in my suit,” Jethro said.
“Not for long,” Valenko said, eying the panther. The panther nodded. He looked beyond to a MP who gulped and slapped his visor down. Another was busy checking his tell tales on his right arm.
“Pilot, give me a minute to report,” Valenko said.
“Your dime jarhead. I'm just sitting here with the meter running,” the pilot retorted.
...*...*...*...*...
The Marines took the action and responsibility grimly when they saw a child waving to them out of a view port. Another child joined them. Schultz's jaw tightened as an adult female pulled the children away and then looked out the view port herself. She looked scared from her expression. She said something over her shoulder and a man joined her. He hugged her, rubbing her shoulders as he glared up at them in defiance.
“This isn't going to be easy,” Schultz said softly. “Or pretty. Either way we're going to get egg on our face,” he said.
“Here's what we're going to do,” Valenko said. He pointed to the depot warehouses. “Pilot, we're going to cut a breach and dock there. I'll need you to do it right, don't rip her up. Try to keep as good a seal as possible.”
“Roger.”
“Sergei, get the goop out. Ox, help him out with the welder. We'll no doubt suck air out of that compartment, it'll be a sieve, but try to patch it the best you can. The rest of us will move in and secure the compartment. MP's and you squids follow in our wake. Wait for the all clear,” he said, pointedly looking at the naval Ensign. The young man nodded, totally professional for the moment.
They felt a bump as the Grendel made dock. Valenko checked the feed, the pilot was holding onto the hull of the compartment with the waldo arms. Lasers cut through the hull, a small breach hopefully. When the oval was complete a hood was extended, attaching itself to the hull with magnets. “Is that clean enough for you?” the pilot asked.
“Damn nice,” Schultz said. “Door?”
“Suits on!” Valenko said, looking around. He checked his HUD one last time as each buddy checked his partner then gave a thumbs up. When the last squid cleared he nodded to the Doberman.
Schultz swung the handle of the hatch and then pulled the door inward. The tunnel to the exit was dark, barely lit by two small LEDs and the still cooling glow of the cut metal at the far end. They didn't need the light, their suits could see just fine. Schultz moved in and kicked the door in.
The door tumbled into the compartment with a clang, there were signs of minor out gassing but nothing major. Valenko was waving his people inward. “Go! Go!” He followed Asazi in as the Marines moved out.
His squad spread out to secure the compartment, following their training to check all their zones carefully for IEDs. When the all clear was signaled he turned to the Tauren. Ox nodded once and then shouldered his rifle. He patted the liger on the arm and the two turned, pulling out equipment and patching the hull around the improvised lock.
Asazi, Hurranna, Fonz, and Schultz stacked up on either side of the lock to the interior of the station. Their compartment was much like the compartment they had just trained in, over a kilometer long and wide, about two hundred meters tall and filled with equipment. There was also only one way in or out of it, the door on the far end that they were on.
Hurranna put her ear to the bulkhead and frowned. She hand signed to the others. Schultz listened for a moment then checked his sensors. He swore softly. Two people were on the other side of the lock with a welder.
“They're welding the door shut,” he said over their radio link.
“Can't have that,” Asazi said. She looked at the small hand sized window. A pair of eyes looked back at her. She reached down and pulled a small breaching charge from her breast pocket and then held it up to the window. She gave the wide eyed person on the other side a moment to realize her intent and then slapped it to the hatch. She counted down with her hands in front of the window, then on the radio. “Fire in the hole in three, two... one! Fire in the hole!” she said, turning away like her squad mates.
The charge detonated, blowing the still hot welds and warping the door. She reached into the warped door and yanked, pulling it open further. Some air rushed past her but she ignored it. Hurranna slipped through the gap. “Two tangos here, both surrendered,” she reported.
“Roger,” Schultz said, working with the heavy worlder on the hatch.
“I got it,” she grunted, using her enhanced strength to move the door. She pulled it back and inward. The door creaked and then opened further. Fonz dropped between her thighs, covering the lynx. After a moment he was through the gap as well, bending and twisting to get in and past her legs.
When the gap was open far enough Valenko checked his atmo readouts. They were green. He pointed to Jethro. “Go. Secure the control room,” he said.
The panther nodded and shucked his skinsuit.
...*...*...*...*...
Despite passive resistance, Jethro made his way past his the civilian jackers while cloaked. He sent a running feed back to Valenko who made note of the improvised defenses.
The hatch to the control room was open. Jethro went inside and then shut it behind him. Big red turned to look behind him just in time for the cat to decloak and grab him by the throat. “Surrender,” Jethro snarled, ears back, teeth bared.
The big human immediately pissed himself, wide eyed in the clutches of a Neo predator. He didn't move, beads of fear sweat formed on his face and brow. His face was gray. Jethro looked around. There were two other humans, both unarmed. Each were sitting in a control chair, eyes wide. “It's over,” Jethro snarled. Both nodded, eyes frightened. “I've captured the control room sir,” Jethro reported.
“Roger that,” Valenko replied. He looked over to see Hurranna as she finished zip tying her two passive prisoners. “Moving out,” the bear said.
He moved into the inner compartment and faced the humans and Veraxins within. Scared faces stared at him, no longer defiant, just afraid Women clutched their children to their sides. The Marines moved slowly through the compartment, securing a path for the follow up team. Valenko scanned them. There were only a few weapons, all were confiscated.
“This station is naval property. You people are trespassing,” Valenko said as he signaled the navy team and MP's to join them. “Jethro, link me to the station intercom,” he ordered.
The panther nodded and jacked into the station net. He sent commands to it. The civilians had tried to create a firewall preventing his access, but the military overrides were hardwired in. It only took a moment for the Ensign to use him as a port to access the computer and intercom. “Civilians on the station! You are in violation of Federation law by trespassing here. We have secured this station and you will comply with our lawful orders. Any resistance will be dealt with.” He cut the link. The civilian people in the compartment looked up and then teared up when Valenko finished addressing the station. Suddenly the station echoed with wailing children, Jethro was off balance mentally, not sure what to do or how to handle it.
“You will leave. My orders are to escort you away from military space. Where you go from there is your problem,” Valenko said.
“Where!” A woman cried, waving her hands. “We can't go! We can't! We can't, we can't, we just Can't! Don't you understand! There is no place to go! And our shuttle is out of fuel anyway!” She glared at the bear until a man pulled her away. She turned to him and cried.
“Why can't we stay?” a child asked plaintively.
Valenko looked at the child. “It's not up to me. You broke the law.” He turned to one side. “Ox,” he said, raising a hand paw to his helmet. “Take Sergei and find the civilian shuttle. Word is it's out of fuel. Check it.”
“Roger.”
“Where are you from? Vesta?” Asazi asked.
“Yes,” Big Red said, making his way into the compartment. He had a slight bruise on his throat. He rubbed at it. “We're from Vesta.”
“Ah.”
“He's in on it? Interesting,” Valenko said.
“They told us you'd let us stay. That we could have the station,” a woman said. She bit her lip when Asazi looked at her.
“And you think that's right? Just come onto the station and take it for yourselves?”
“Why not? No one was using it!” Big Red said, waving a hand.
“So much for your bright ass idea,” Mary red said in disgust, glaring at her husband for all she was worth. He hunched his shoulders.
“I thought it would work,” he muttered.
“Well, it didn't genius, so what now?” she demanded, hands on her hips.
“I don't know,” he mumbled. “It's up to them,” he said, indicating the Marines. She turned to them, looking at each.
“So? Now what?” She asked.
“I'll get back to you on that ma'am,” Valenko replied.
“It was... you know what, not my discussion,” Asazi said, patience exhausted. She was never one for debate. She turned to the bear as the naval personnel came in. The naval Ensign looked around, and then without a word waved the techs ahead of him to the control room. When they were gone MP's came in. They looked around warily.
“Ensign Valenko,” Ox's familiar voice said over the radio.
“Go ahead,” the bear said.
“Shuttle secure. It is indeed out of fuel and it's life support is drained. I don't see how they could make it anywhere.”
“Roger. Leave Sergei there and then check the rest of the station,” Valenko ordered. He motioned to the MP's. “You guard the prisoners. “Asazi, Hurranna, Schultz, check the rest of the station.
“What about me?” Fonz asked over the link.
Valenko grimaced. “Guard our shuttle.”
“Roger,” Fonz replied sullenly. He'd hoped for action and wasn't getting what he wanted. Tough for him, the bear thought.
“What do we do?” Asazi asked, now uneasy.
“What else? Pass it on to someone above our pay grade of course. Our job is to do the dirty work. Now they get to figure out what to do next.”
...*...*...*...*...
Logan discussed it with the command staff. Mayor Ralkin was called, he confirmed that yes he had indeed provided the squatters with the shuttle to rid himself of Big Red's group, good riddance to them. He didn't have the life support for them and they would be locked out if they returned. Then the mayor cut the circuit.
Logan scowled and passed that bit of recorded conversation over to Knox news. They were begging for an interview, hopefully that would throw them off for a moment.
His staff called the station and other colony leaders. Enrique said he didn't have room. That was a flat out lie, he could tell just from the way the man didn't meet his eyes. Other colony leaders said pretty much the same thing. He realized the fix was in.
Governor Walker tried to intervene, court orders flew in a blizzard. Judge Farley intercepted them, stating that the trespass was a federal matter before he quashed the orders. The governor changed tactics, he tried to pass orders to protect the civilians from the big mean navy. An eminent domain bill was squashed in the house committee on grounds that the Senate and house were not officially in session and they didn't have enough of a quorum to vote the bill out. There was a media blitz, including footage of the retaking of the station by the Marines.
Logan wasn't happy, and even less happy about Walker being all over the situation. His fingerprints were all over it. He talked with the staff, but none have a solution that didn't leave egg all over the faces of the navy. Killing them was obviously out, so was exile, which amounted to the same thing.
“We could always talk with them. See what they think sir,” Valenko said over the net. There was a second delay until a response. He wasn't sure why he was in the discussion, it was over his head. It looked bad though, they were stuck in a crack. From the sound of it Commander Logan was grasping at straws. Perhaps he wanted a fresh set of eyes?
“Go ask them,” the Commander ordered over the link.
“Yes sir,” Valenko said, and then turned to the Gunny. “Find the leader, Big Red. Get him in here,” he ordered. The Marines and squatters had gotten to know each other fairly well over the past three days. The squatters had been just about out of food, they had thought the depot would have everything, instead it had been specialized for furniture and fittings. They had had only what they had brought with them plus what could be made with the tiny drink recycler. No wonder they had called in. They had wanted the navy to intervene.
Big Red came in the compartment with Mary. She was an inhibiting presence for her husband, like a bucket of cold water. He didn't dare bluster with her around, she cut him down faster than Valenko could. After the second day he had been reduced to a meek man.
“We've got a problem. You were right, Mayor Ralkin confirmed he kicked you out. He and every colony leader have refused you asylum. None want you.”
“You're kidding me!” Mary said, aghast.
“Yeah. Which is a problem,” Valenko said, indicating that they should sit in the chairs nearby. “Commander Logan, The Red's are here,” he said and opened the link. A holographic image of the Commander appeared in the center of the main engineering control console.
“Sir,” Valenko said.
The Reds looked at each other and then straightened themselves up a bit. The woman finger combed errant hair strands out of her eyes hastily. “We seem to be in a pickle. The both of us. Any ideas on how to get out of this?”
“Sir...” Valenko sighed. “I thought we were going to brig them or something. I'm guessing that is out?”
“We don't have a brig big enough except on San Diego. And I'm not having them sit around eating up food and sucking our air like ticks. No, I'm all for punishment, but I'm not going to be stupid about it. And I'm not thrilled about the death penalty for this. Not for entire families.”
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” Mary said. “Sir.”
“Sir...” Valenko rubbed his jaw, looking around. “It seems to me that the punishment should fit the crime. They need to be housed, we have a place right here.”
“Oh? Go on.”
The bear ignored the looks the humans in the room were giving him. “We give them a compromise. A choice. They can either enlist or sign on as civilian contractors and we will train them to our standards on how to run and live on this station as well as others.”
“Are you serious Ensign?” Horatio demanded. “Just tamely hand over the station? And others?”
“No sir, not tamely. They will be fined, but we will have navy crews on board with them. They will be working for us. Right folks? Steady job, shelter, food, life support...” The bear said.
Big Red scowled. He looked mulish but his wife Mary agreed. “Sounds good to me. I'm glad someone's finally talking sense,” she said with a smile of approval.
He turned on his wife in shock and surprise. “What?”
“Honey, how are we going to live here without food and water? Without power? We need supplies silly. This place has none.” Mary had come to realize they had been duped. They had been pawns in a game of politics. She didn't like that, she didn't like being used.
“They can send us...”
“NO! I will not be a dependent. Not for one minute longer. We can pull our own weight,” she turned imploringly to Logan. “We can, honest we can. We just never could get the opportunity. My husband is a pilot, I'm a life support engineer. The others are all techs with various skills. Give us a chance sir.”
Logan frowned. This was a problem, one he hadn't anticipated. Slowly though, the idea grew on him. Walker had put him in this position, he could see his fingerprints all over this. Fine then, he'll turn it on its head. “All right, we're giving you this chance. You'll be paid, minus the trespassing fine and any charges for damage to the station. we'll
work out the details later.”
Mary let out a heartfelt sigh of relief. “Thank you sir.” She poked her husband. He oofed and looked at her. She silently indicated to him to say something.
“Um, thank you sir. We won't let you down. We just wanted a place to live and a chance to prove ourselves sir,” Big Red said.
“I'll give you that chance. Don't blow it,” Horatio replied and then cut the link.
...*...*...*...*...
“Steady Panache,” Schultz said softly. “You okay Marine?” he asked. Jethro turned slightly, hearing that. He caught sight of the Veraxin shaking ever so slightly. He turned more.
“I'm good sir, relief,” the Veraxin chittered. They were going to be headed home soon. “See? It's passing,” she said. “Just nerves feeling relief.”
“Right. If you have any flashes, let me know,” Schultz said kindly, as he patted her on her upper shoulders. She bobbed a nod and then went back to looking out the window.
Schultz noted Jethro watching and came over. He pulled the Marine panther to one side. “I didn't want you to see that,” he said.
“Sorry Gunny. I am curious though. Chalk it up to the nature of a cat. I'll keep my nose short,” he said. It wasn't his business and yet it was, the safety of the squad was a concern for every member.
Schultz sighed, looking back the way he had come. Finally he opened a private link. “This stays between you and me. Panache has a touch of PTSD from her first combat tour when we took the pirates two years ago. She's had therapy, she's sound now.”
“Okay,” Jethro replied, nodding. He didn't know what to say. PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was a concern for every Marine. They were trained to handle it though, to recognize the signs and to counsel to minimize its effects. Then he frowned when those thoughts registered. They were trained. She hadn't been. She had been a Marine before boot, untrained, barely disciplined, sent into the line of fire with just the knowledge of what end the rounds came out of her rifle. He winced. Now he got it.
“She's good. Trust me. Give her a chance. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. Got it,” Schultz said, eying him hard. The panther had no choice but to nod in agreement.
Jethro: First to Fight Page 20
