Had the Gunny been on hand, the lion wouldn't have been a problem. A single look or bark from the Neo-Doberman would have brought the bigger cat to heel fast. Unfortunately the Doberman was off helping with training.
Kovu was constantly picking at Jethro, either refusing an order to get squared away, or moving slowly, surly. He was constantly testing Jethro, seeing what he could get away with. Jethro found that he had to be constantly on the lion's ass to keep him on his feet and moving. Should he get the chance he'd rack out the moment the panther's back was turned. He had seemingly no initiative, no interest in getting the job done right unless it was sim related.
Twice in sims he had tripped Jethro up. Jethro wasn't sure if he wanted the panther to look bad on purpose or if he was just too young and eager.
The lion was a distant cousin of Hrriss. Since he was larger than Jethro he immediately assumed it would be a cakewalk. However Jethro has been in the Marines now for over a year and was now well versed in hand to hand combat. He'd learned quite a few tricks in all the bouts he'd had. The panther shocked the other Neo with his brutality and savage no nonsense combat.
Lions fought with tooth and claw, ripping and tearing at each other in a free for all brawl. Intimidation was a factor in all Neo combat. Knowing someone could screw you up tended to make some Neo's submit or more cautious. Some were tricky, feigning injury or infirmness to get an enemy overconfident and in close. Jethro was all about science, taking the lion down with lightening fast moves, not even using his cloak.
When the battle was over both were injured. The lion was subdued, he'd damn near pissed himself when Jethro had locked his enhanced jaws on his throat. Without his mane his throat had been hideously vulnerable to the other cat, he'd come to realize that being a Marine in that case, with their attention to personal hygiene had its drawbacks. Being forced to shave sucked in more ways than looks. He tried not to shiver, Jethro's canines were perilously close to his jugular.
Jethro slowly released him when Kovu relaxed and tapped out. Both cats were shaking and wide eyed as they separated. Jethro's eyes were slitted, he was still enraged, but now very aware that he was taking the feud too far. His tail thrashed as he fought to get a hold of his anger.
Kovu backed away, eyes fully dilated in fear, ears flat, one hand going to his throat. Jethro could smell the faint hint of ammonia. The younger cat had pissed himself in fear. He was a little ashamed at taking it so far and losing control.
Valenko waddled in. Jethro realized that he had let himself go, expressing his dominance in animal fashion, setting up the pack order. He was a little ashamed of that, at least until he saw a familiar shape in the shadows. His enhanced eyes narrowed as his implants picked out the Gunny. The Gunny stood there in the shadow of the hatch, arms crossed. He slowly nodded, and then raised a thumbs up to Jethro. The panther blinked. What did he mean...
“Sometimes you have to kick a little ass in order to get them to pay attention,” the Gunny sent in a quick text, then stepped back into the shadows. “Some need to be scared shitless of you more than the enemy if you want them to listen to you and do what needs to be done. Remember that,” he said and then closed the chat. Jethro blinked and saved that for later. He turned to the bear.
“Is the recess match over?” Valenko rumbled. “Because if it isn't, if you have any further problems with the chain of command I'll be your next opponent.” Valenko gently pointed. He growled softly. The lion gulped. “And then I'll bust every stripe you've got and brig you. If you survived my lesson that is,” The bear said ever so mildly. The Leo shuddered and looked down and away, immediately and completely cowed.
Valenko met Jethro's amused look with one of his own. He nodded to both and ordered them to shower and then report to the infirmary. Both Neo's followed orders quietly, not saying a word.
“What happened? And don't give me a story, I hate stories,” Gusterson said, dabbing at a cut.
“We got a bit carried away on the mat. We needed to settle our differences. We did,” Jethro replied.
“It got a little out of hand,” Jethro said quietly as the greyhound studied the wounded to the lion's throat.
“A little?”
“Nothing we both can't handle. We're recon. We play rough.” The lion agreed with a nod. Gusterson didn't comment as he finished patching them up.
“Good moves kid,” Jethro said when Gusterson finished up. “Want a beer?” he asked. “I'm buying.” The lion's golden eyes widened in surprise and then he nodded. “What do you say doc? You in? My treat,” Jethro said. The medic declined with a shake of his head.
“Your loss doc. Thanks for patching us up,” Jethro rumbled as they made their way out, both limping slightly.
“Sometimes adversity builds friendships,” Valenko murmured, watching them go.
“Sir?” the medic asked, now confused.
“Nothing. Never mind. Let's get going, Halsey wants the mat.”
“Yes sir.”
...*...*...*...*...
“Still having issues sir?” Valenko asked, turning to Captain Pendeckle.
“I see what you do, but it's one thing to see it...” the Captain shook his head. Silverman snorted. “It's not just your people,” the Captain said, giving the human Lieutenant a quelling look.
“No sir. Part of it is training, part of it is, well, you know it, but you don't.”
“Explain.”
“Hot wash?” the bear rumbled. The captain nodded.
“Oh this oughta be good,” Silverman said.
“Can we check the ego's and rank please?” the bear asked. The Captain nodded. Silverman blinked in surprise. When he saw the Captain nod he scowled ever so slightly but then nodded as well.
“Good. This isn't meant to be deriding or cruel, it's to get you to see what you need to train for. First off, hand signs. Stop relying on your implants. If you make a radio signal you are letting everyone in the area know where you are.”
The Captain nodded. He'd worked on the hand signs but they were a pain in the ass to learn and sometimes a pain in the ass to use. He could say something verbally or over an implant and get his meaning across fast and clear. Hand signs could be misinterpreted.
“Second, work on your camo. Break up shadows and lines. A human body and face are easy to see, same for a Veraxin.”
“Okay.”
“Fire and maneuver are the building block for any assault. But you, well, every marine unit we've seen or gone up against has a bit of tunnel vision. It's called Funneling. I know the old saying is march to the sound of the guns, but when you do you focus on the source. You bottle up on a target or clearing and your people forget to cover their threat zones. Many times they cluster too close. That's an open invitation for a mortar, claymore, or rapid fire weapon like a Gatling.”
The Captain winced. “And I take it you can plan for that.”
The bear nodded and then shrugged. “If you know what your enemy is going to do, where they are likely to cluster, yes sir, I can.”
“I see.”
“They have a good habit of glancing back, I'm guessing that's to check their six if Jethro's involved.”
“Yes.”
“Which is good, but if you are so focused on where you been, you are less focused on what's in front of you.”
“I see.”
“Muzzle creep is another thing, most people aim high,” The bear stood and put his hand out chest high for him, which was about ten centimeters above the Captain's head. “But...” the bear ducked into a crouch. “When people pull the trigger they tend to jerk up slightly, so the beam goes up. The further away the higher the round goes, the less likely it is to come close to hitting someone unless they are up there,” the bear said pointing up. Then he dropped to all fours. “If you are down here, it's nothing.” He dropped to his belly. It would look comical if he wasn't so serious. “Now if I'm down here it's just noise.”
“I see.”
The bear got up and dusted himself off briefl
y. “Panic fire is an issue. Pulling the trigger and hosing an area might tag Jethro, but it's useless. Double tap. You should never let your people hold the trigger down unless they are firing suppressive fire or have a hard target in front of them.”
“Suppressive fire doesn't.”
“To a point. If your enemy charges you at a run it can. If they crawl?” the bear shrugged.
“Good points.”
“Get your people into looking for and using cover. Use the three dimensional view of their maps.”
“You can do that?” Silverman asked, sitting up.
“Of course,” the bear said. He pulled a map up then dumped it on the holo on the table. At first there was a flat image of the map. The image rotated to level with the table, then the terrain indicators moved up or down, filling in to form a three dimensional image of the terrain. Then that smoothed out. A red icon blinked at the objective, another green icon indicated the start point. It had an arrow which indicated direction.
“The arrow is linked to your internal compass.”
“Fascinating,” the Captain said.
“If you have time you can check an area for possible problem area. Locations of possible ambushes that you overlook in a 2D map. Oversight areas, areas that you can use for mortars, all sorts of information.”
“Cool,” Silverman said, studying the map. The bear snorted. Just to twist the Lieutenant's tail he threw in trees and water. That got the Lieutenant blinking. Then he tossed in his own script, locations for possible ambushes. Icons popped up, with arrows and fields of fire. The lieutenant looked up at him in confusion.
“I know, a bit confusing. That's my map, I generate a script with potential ambush sites, fields of fire, fall back routes, sight lines, the works. It can get confusing to the uninitiated.”
“I see.”
“Sir, among other things, no GOTH plan, no bounding over watch... you should never rush unless it is in your favor. Many times that happened and I expected it. Sometimes it was just stupid, throwing good money after bad.”
“Why didn't you say this all earlier?” The Captain asked mildly. He was drumming his fingers on the table. Valenko wasn't certain if he was irritated or not.
“Sir, no one likes being wrong. No one likes being shown up. I usually try to get people to learn in the field. Having their faces rubbed into their mistakes can be demeaning if not properly worded.”
“That's why you've been quiet? Or you've only mentioned your own squad's mistakes?”
“Yes sir.”
“And here I thought you did it to make me feel better,” the Captain said. The bear shook his head no.
“No, they were genuine mistakes. There is always room for improvement.”
“Agreed. Not just in the sims, or in combat exercises, but in this, the hot washes as well. From now on, don't hold back. Be deferential to rank, but I want the facts, don't sugar coat it. We need to learn here. That's what this is all about. It's not an ego thing, it's not a pat on the back. It's about seeing what works, what doesn't and fixing what doesn't.”
“Yes sir.”
The Captain nodded, straightening up. “Good. Moving on then gentlemen...”
...*...*...*...*...
Four days after Kovu arrived, Hurranna was re-assigned to flight ops. The move was so sudden she had only a brief hour to pack, hug Jethro and Sergei, and then rush off to her ride. Her slot was left open for a short time, no one else who was Recon fitted their chemistry.
Gunny tried to stick with the squad but the needs of the Marine corps forced him to be absent more and more. He hated being chained to a desk and took some of his resentment out on any who offered sympathy. Jethro filled in as senior noncom in his absence. Eventually the change was made official when the Gunny was assigned to training duties once more. Jethro got the e-mail and then silently passed it to the squad. Schultz hadn't even been allowed a good bye from the squad. That sucked.
“Well, it wasn't like we didn't know it was coming,” Sergei said dispirited.
“Trite but true,” Panache chittered. “All of them will be missed.”
Panache had settled down into the squad, becoming one with the family. She was still quiet and reserved, but she did her job in real life and in sims. The old hands still thought of her as a noob or meat, but she had a tinge of a veteran in her as well.
“He left some mighty big shoes to fill,” Asazi said looking at the newly promoted Jethro.
“I'll do my best,” Jethro replied.
...*...*...*...*...
Ox did double duty in the armory, further cutting his time with the squad. Together with the armorer he had worked out new designs for the other team members, including additional special weapons and equipment. He also had to consult with the teams making the equipment for other squads, and even filled in on fitting and building suits for other squads. The powered combat armor teams were starting to take on more specialized designs for special missions.
One human female rifleman was added as well, replacing Hurranna. Private Mirilax Terilack didn't last a week, she put in for a transfer on the third day.
“Sir, it's not just the workload, which is insane. It's, well, to put it honestly, I'm not a good fit,” she said, standing at attention.
“Anything we can do to change the situation,” Valenko asked, sitting down in the wardroom. He'd borrowed it when the Private had put in for the transfer.
“Not a blessed thing sir, I'm just... apples and oranges. Most of the troops are great, but Fonz and Kovu...” She shook her head.
Valenko nodded. What she didn't know was that the two other noobs had been hazing her. They thought that since she was the new kid on the block they were off the hook. He'd have to come down on them a bit for that, they had started to coast and get slack. He didn't like that.
“Harassment?” he asked softly.
“Nothing sexual sir, or I'd have their balls,” the Private muttered. “Sir...”
Valenko raised a hand. “Far be it from me to make someone stay who doesn't want to be here or can't shoulder the weight. You're right Private, it's hard. Recon is supposed to be. Fine. I'll approve the transfer. It'll be a day or two before it's processed and approved. Until then stick to your normal duties and act as if it hasn't.”
“Aye sir. I'll... do my best,” she choked out.
“Dismissed,” he rumbled. She saluted smartly. He took the salute and returned his own. She struck the salute, about faced, and then left the compartment. He sighed, crossing his arms.
“So much for that,” he murmured. He didn't understand the woman, she had put in for OCS training but had so far been denied. She had the skills, she wouldn't have gotten to recon if she hadn't had some brass in her, but she lacked something. She also had little patience and didn't play well with others. She didn't suffer fools, he thought, and then nodded. Yes, that fit. He'd have to remember that when he wrote up her file and passed it on.
...*...*...*...*...
“Mirilax gone?” Fonz asked looking at the empty ruck. Sergei nodded.
“Where too?” Kovu asked. He was smiling, the tip of his tail dancing.
“Transferred.”
“Laxative lady couldn't take the heat?” Kovu asked excitedly.
“Shut it,” Sergei rumbled, not looking up from his tablet. “Don't go saying shit you'll regret. I don't see why you two are so happy, we're a man down again. That means guess who gets to take up the slack?”
“Right, couldn't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen,” Fonz said, making a sizzling sound as he pressed a finger to first himself and then Kovu.
“You know, I know the shit about if you can't take a joke and all, and being an ass, but we do have to live with each other. I don't recall giving you an ass whopping when you two signed on. Kovu yes, but he damn well deserved it,” Valenko rumbled, coming up behind them. “And I didn't even get to do it,” he said as the two straightened to attention. “Maybe I should change that huh?”
“Sir, I think
they need to learn that they haven't earned what they've got yet. Both are still on probation,” Sergei said mildly.
“True,” the bear rumbled. “So why don't we have a little run. Let's see who drops first,” he said.
Both Privates made a face. “Move out!” he growled. They dropped into a trot.
“That showed them,” the liger said, lounging in his rack.
The bear turned on the liger. “What are you waiting for? Move it mister!”
Sergei grimaced and rolled out of his rack and onto all fours. He didn't even straighten as he took off like a sprinter. Valenko watched them and then crossed his arms once more. He had a date with his daughters. He'd let them run for a bit though.
...*...*...*...*...
The new squad members were all outfitted with armor and trained together whenever possible. They also had other duties which made juggling their schedules for constant training a pain. Frequently they were forced to doing sims and brainstorms through chats or e-mail. Valenko equated it to chess by mail. The squad focus on new tactics and methods kept them elite. Twice a week they had sim combat against another squad or sometimes an entire platoon if they had enough net capacity.
...*...*...*...*...
Other squads hated going up against them in sim combat. The noobs Fonz and Kovu became so cocky that Valenko deliberately took himself out and threw a couple of matches to rub them the wrong way.
“You're doing this on purpose. I see it now. Every time they act up you find a way to get out of the match or take me out.” Jethro called him on it. “I don't appreciate getting shot in the back by my own commanding officer. There's something in the book against that,” he said. He tried to keep his tone light but he was annoyed by the betrayal. “What I want to know is why. It's not just the attitude. Or is it the attitude?” he asked.
Valenko shrugged it off. “Sometimes loosing is the best teacher. I want to see how they do. I want to build teamwork and get them to stop patting themselves on the back for shit they didn't earn.” Jethro nodded at that. “I guarantee they won't crow so much. It will at least put things into perspective. Fuck up and you die.”
Jethro: First to Fight Page 33
