“And it also undermines their trust in you and your authority if they find out,” Jethro cautioned quietly. He wasn't at all happy about losing. Oh he didn't like getting his ass kicked, but loosing on purpose was an insult. It also was bad, they had been taught to never give a gimme. There was something to be said about the martial arts standard of giving your all and treating a sim like real combat.
“Then they better not right?” Valenko said at a near subsonic growl. Jethro nodded.
...*...*...*...*...
Major Forth tweaked Valenko about the losses. Valenko shrugged it off. “Off week sir.”
The Major eyed him. The bear wasn't making excuses. He had a good one, integrating greenhorns into his squad. But he didn't point it out. “It happens. But I'm pretty sure not that clumsily. You bucking for time off?” The Major asked.
“No sir. We'll get squared away.”
“Then what?”
“I'm... training them sir. Sometimes failure is the best teacher.”
“Is that why you're playing lemming?”
The bear raised an eyebrow. “You noticed sir?”
The Major snorted. “It was hard not to, with that one time you shot yourself. Care to explain?”
“Simple training tactic sir. Break up the chain of command and force them to rise to the occasion. Jethro can do it, but he hadn't anticipated it the first few times I did it. Now he's gotten wise and adapted, so I'm forced to take him out sometimes too.”
“Why? Are you doing this to force them to grow up? Trust me Lieutenant, it's not as easy as you think.”
Valenko shook his head. “No sir. Just... trying to get my squad to put it into perspective sir. Loose the arrogance and assumption that they are going to win easily. I don't like my people getting overconfident and sailing into something all fat dumb and happy.”
The Major studied him for a long moment then nodded. Both reasons were plausible. Shooting his squad up to get them to keep from getting complacent was also good. It kept them on their toes, but it undermined their trust in him. Hopefully the bear was aware of that. “We're putting a lot of faith in you as an elite unit. The showcase to hold everyone up to as a standard. Are you telling me that's misplaced?”
“No sir. Just that my squad has a bit of an ego problem that needed a little deflating sir. Since the other op commanders couldn't handle it...” He shrugged.
“You took the initiative. All right. It's a black mark on your record but if you're willing to accept it then who am I to argue?” He mused amused.
“No one likes a brown nose sir,” Valenko replied, twitching his great black nose. The Major caught the twitch and then snorted softly.
“Spoken like a true Marine. Dismissed.”
...*...*...*...*...
Off duty, other squad leaders and officers joked about Valenko's squad in the officer's bar. Despite the new meat he had to train, and being shorthanded they still ended up cleaning everyone else's clock on a seemingly regular basis. They now knew the only sure way to win against him was to take him and Jethro out early.
The other officers complained that with Valenko it was like he didn't bother to even read the book, or he had chapters the rest of them lacked. Valenko was sitting at the end of the bar and snorted when the griping got too loud and started sounding like a perpetual whine. “Think outside the box. Innovate. Try and be willing to fail. Train. My squad trains daily even though we've got other duties. We have training ops against simulated opponents all the time.”
The room quieted and all eyes turned to him. “Okay...”
“Your squad has also seen combat,” a fellow Marine said from the back of the bar. A few nodded at that.
“Both before they were Marines and on Agnosta, yes some of them did. Not all, some. That tends to put things in perspective,” Valenko said waving a hand. “My squad may not be the best when it comes to dressing up and looking pretty, but we've got other priorities. Surviving in combat for instance. Kicking ass and dishing out pain is another.” He smiled ever so slightly. The others winced at that. He downed his shot and nodded to the barkeep to refill.
“Baddest on the block.”
“Bully,” a woman said amused. The barkeep snorted and poured Valenko a double.
“Sometimes you need some hard ass to kick everyone in the teeth a few times. Learn from it.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“Gunny was a great teacher. He was a bastard as a DI, believe me. You learn fast by being pounded on hard.”
“Ouch.”
“Of course life did that for most of us. Life in the gangs was no picnic. You learned to be a survivor right away.”
“Damn.”
“Combat from diapers?”
“Probably,” Someone else said. Valenko nodded.
“Gunny made damn sure F platoon busted their asses and didn't coast for a moment. We usually had less than four hours of personal time a week if we were lucky, there was always something new to learn. I looked at the records. We did more combat sims then any of the other platoons. More than all of them combined actually.”
“Shit.” Lieutenant Myers whistled softly.
“Yeah we were tired, sore all the time and damn cranky. But it weeded out the ones not fit to be there and taught us how to deal with it. Deal with it on a moment's notice, constant, or whenever. Deal with the crap and learn to take it so we can dish it out later.” He shook his head. “Speaking of crap, I honestly don't remember taking one for the entire first phase.” That earned a chuckle.
“Rub it in,” a Captain said with a sigh. His entire platoon had been wiped out by Valenko's squad from hell in an op. Sure they had inflicted sixty percent casualties on the squad, but he hadn't had more than one effective trooper when the sim was finished. One hundred and twenty Marines against a paltry ten. Of course most of the squad were Neo's, born and bred for combat. Yeah Valenko and his team were scary. “That damn panther is a major reason why you win,” he said downing his own drink. The others nodded. They all knew Jethro's reputation. His ability to cloak and go through troops like a hot knife through butter had more than one trooper willing to see a shrink after a combat sim. It also had every platoon Commander putting in to get the panther transferred to their squad almost every week. One squad leader had even tried forging Jethro's signature. He was up for a reprimand. When asked why he'd done it, he'd just stated the old axiom, 'if you're not cheating you're not trying hard enough.' It seemed everyone wanted a piece of Jethro these days.
“He plays his part. But sometimes it's fun to use other ideas to fight. Ideas not in the book. Do the unexpected. If you're not cheating you're not trying hard enough,” the bear rumbled. Which was true. Now that the other squads knew what Jethro was capable of he was holding the panther back and watching them shit themselves as they nervously tried to figure out where he was. As a Neo predator Jethro preferred a rear attack, ambushing from the six o'clock. Now the other platoons were deploying remotes to cover their rear arch more than their front, which of course meant Jethro attacked from another angle, sometimes above, and once, below.
Lately they had worked on attrition tactics, having the panther pick off a point or other soldier who was for one reason or another isolated and alone. That usually served as a distraction, the rest of the opforce would funnel to the action. Sometimes Valenko would position the panther on the off side then use someone else in the squad to take a point or flank out. When the platoon reacted to the threat by massing in the direction of the perceived threat Jethro would come in on their exposed flank and pick off any he could before they realized he was there. Attrition was the name of the game and they played it well.
“You're saying you cheat?” Myers asked suspiciously.
Valenko rumbled a laugh. “Oh hell no, just looks that way.”
“Sure,” a Lieutenant said dryly, still not quite convinced.
“Tell me that mine wasn't cheating?” another demanded.
“Worked didn't
it?” Valenko asked with an ear flick and slight smile. Jethro had dropped the mine in the sweet spot after the platoon had swept for it. They had pivoted and then came back on the same track and didn't rescan, walking right into the ambush. “Always treat a path as compromised, always sweep, even if you've been through it once before. IED's suck. That's from the book by the way.” They nodded ruefully. The Major had pointed it out in the hot wash. “You walked right into the ambush. Claymores are a good way to break a team. They sow chaos and confusion, letting you get the first shots in. When the enemy has superior numbers sometimes it's the only way. Read Sun Tzu if you don't believe me. Lay traps, devise stratagems. Blowing the mine and that's the sign to take out the enemy. No give away radio signal needed. The explosion has the opposition so screwed up all they can think of is cover.”
The Lieutenant nodded grudgingly. “Letting you get in the first shots. I'll remember that.”
“Snipers did actually. They took out well... you and your ensign over there and your noncom,” he said waving his hand paws. “Cut off the head and the body flops around.”
“Headless chicken,” the bartender murmured. They flicked a look at him and then nodded.
“Innovate. I'm also open to other ideas. Ideas from my squad. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. I've been doing a lot of research. So has my team. It helps that Jethro's so curious.”
“He was a cat. Goes with the territory,” a Lieutenant growled. That got a laugh.
“Anyone tell him curiosity usually kills the cat in the end?”
“Not in this regard. I've accessed his family journal. It's fascinating reading.”
“Huh. Any way I can get a hand on it?” A Lieutenant asked. Another nodded.
“I'll see what I can do,” Valenko said dryly, taking a swig of vodka. The rotgut burned down his throat. He had thought that since Letanga had been reassigned others would have access to the journal. Or that the Major would make it available for everyone. Apparently the Major was respecting the family's right to privacy. He'd have to talk to the cats about it. If they were uncomfortable with a full release perhaps only the parts they were comfortable with could be released?
“We're also working on new toys and how to use them effectively. We're constantly thinking up new ideas to try. Sometimes they work, sometimes not.” He shrugged again.
“Some of them are damn good,” someone said dryly.
“The shields. When do we get them?” Lieutenant Halsey further down asked, shaking her head. “Those are a pain in the ass.”
Valenko smiled. Four platoons of Marines had powered combat armor now. His squad had it the longest and were damn good at using it, mainly because of Ox's maintenance and constant tinkering... and the team's constant rethinking of old concepts. They weren't afraid to try anything in a sim. “Logistics is working on it. The Major is debating on making them standard issue,” Captain Pendeckle said, setting his cover down as he staked out a stool. That was news, the armor was locked out. Most of the Marines had an infantry MOS because there were so few slots available in the other fields right now. Apparently things were changing.
“Figure out how to counter them yet?” Valenko asked sympathetically. His ears flicked. He was curious if he'd get an honest answer.
The female Lieutenant scowled. “No,” she said in disgust. She looked down at the bottom of her glass. She set it down and the bartender refilled it.
Valenko smiled evilly. “Pity. I've figured out several counters. My team has trained on them and counters to the counters.”
“Don't suppose you're going to tell me any?” she asked knowing the answer. He just smiled at her. “Thought not,” she said in disgust. The others around the room snorted in amusement.
“Experience is sometimes the best teacher.” He got off his stool and nodded to the barkeep as his implants paid his tab. “I've got to go do my homework. We've got another sim tomorrow,” he said nodding to the others.
“I might as well not even show up,” the female Lieutenant said in disgust covering her face with her hands. Valenko rumbled a chuckle and waved a good bye as he exited the bar.
Chapter 17
The next day Valenko's team participated in a practice extraction op. The squad he was covering was on its way across a variety of terrain, most of it forest. First Lieutenant Myers was a prickly human, by the book and not experienced in ground combat. The squad had a few wounded and it was a tricky op to participate in. Their coordination had to be spot on, and Valenko was pretty sure the other platoons were more interested in pounding his team flat rather than winning the scenario.
It was a complex scenario, one he was pretty sure would tax all the systems and people involved before it was done. To make it interesting he decided right off to change a few things right off, just to throw anyone's carefully laid plans out the lock. It was time to teach a few people about not only thinking outside the box but staying the hell out of the box all together. The kill box that was.
The dropship was a heavy Marine ascraft, one designed for planetary ops. They didn't have many in the inventory just yet but it was on their TOE so they trained for it. She was a Prejudice class VTOL, a manta shaped beast painted in smart camo that adapted to the forest colors. When she was off duty she changed to lengthwise stripes of green and brown. Her wingtips had nacelle engine pods that swiveled down as she went into a hover, or horizontal for normal flight. She could handle reentry but she was small.
A Prejudice class ascraft was a utilitarian bird, she had clamps on her underside that held a pod or a military vehicle. Right now she had a pod that could hold two squads of lightly armed Marines... if they were friendly. In the case of the Neo's on board... very friendly.
There was a door leading to the cockpit pod. The dropship had a crew of four, two pilots, a crew Chief and an engineer. The engineer sometimes doubled as a door gunner if things got too hot.
Valenko was of two minds about the Prejudice. It lacked the size and legs to really move gear, but it's ability to multitask was both an asset and a burden. Her ability to multitask was probably why the powers that be were focused on using her design. She couldn't do every job perfectly but she could haul freight, people, or vehicles and do a fast turnaround to another task. She shared a lot of common parts with other similar craft and had a reputation as a hardy craft that was easy to maintain. She could also refuel in flight which was great.
Of course if you didn't have the right pod the people she carried would be just a bit put out over how they'd be carried. He didn't picture hanging onto the underside of the thing as a good idea.
Right from the beginning he dropped his snipers in to cover the extraction before circling wide. They would come in from a new vector, moving in with the sun at the back of the dropship. Jethro and his two apprentice snipers were dropped several kilometers out from the extraction point, they rappelled down to the tree canopy rapid fire. It would be a short walk for them to the LZ, in this case an open meadow in the middle of a virtual poplar and spruce forest. The opposing force would be looking and listening for the dropship, not for a group of people on the ground.
The lion Private Kovu was still coming along when it came to moving quietly in the bush. He had taken the time to put on camo paint on the flight out. His short cut black mane was greased with brown and green, as they walked he occasionally snatched twigs and small branches off trees and bushes and added them to his camouflage.
Kovu still had an attitude problem, he was definitely no Letanga but he was coming along. Jethro was glad that Valenko had insisted on the time chop for realism sake. It had given them plenty of time to prepare even though the pilots had complained.
Fonz wasn't so bad in the bush for a human. That was surprising to Jethro, Fonz had never been off his small asteroid colony before he'd joined up. He was a good sniper, bit of a goof off when he was off duty, but he settled down nicely in action. Or at least in the sims. He still had to face the real furnace though.
When Fonz had
replaced Miles it had been a bit of a see saw with Asazi. Most of the others had concluded Fonz was in for a broken jaw, or at least a broken nose. He'd surprised them all by cracking her up by showing her an image of him before he'd joined up. She'd cracked up and then passed the image on to the others. Jethro had to admit the guy had changed. He'd gone from a black mullet and long sideburns to a no nonsense Marine buzz cut. Now he had to live up to his new “rep”.
Jethro knew the op orders but he also knew that whoever the opposition team leader was they were probably out for blood. Most likely camped around the perimeter of the meadow on the south side of it, facing the incoming team. When the team came in they'd wait and use them as bait until the dropship arrived.
Or they'd wait until the dropship dropped its security and then ambush them. Or wait until the entire group was in the bag and then let loose. There were a lot of different ways things could play. Well, they could if Valenko had been bothered to follow the book to the letter at any rate.
He picked a nice thick oak, one with some nice branches about two hundred meters up. Climbing it was dead easy, doing it quietly from the south side so no one could see him on the other side wasn't so easy.
When the team was set they double clicked their radios to call in the dropship. Valenko rested his paw on the pilot's shoulder and leaned over. “Just bring her in a bit, enough for the whoever is waiting there to hear your engines. Then wait.”
“Wait?” the pilot asked, looking up at him dubiously. Didn't the damn bear know they were a sitting duck for anyone with a plasma gun or SAM?
“Yes. Just a bit for the all clear,” Valenko rumbled. The pilot nodded. He had no intention of screwing with the bear.
Jethro smirked as he caught sight of rustling ahead of him. Whoever was waiting could hear the engines as he did but had pretty good camo on. Thermals were useless. He tracked the motion by eye, glad there wasn't any wind at the moment. When he was certain of their positions he nodded slightly and sent them to his teammates through a wire link.
Jethro: First to Fight Page 34
