Cheetara took the call with mixed feelings. She was not feeling good, eating grass to help with indigestion from morning sickness when she got the call, but she was a bit off her game. She brightened at hearing Jethro's voice however. “I'm sorry I didn't factor in the time difference Cheetara. But it is so nice hearing a familiar voice,” he said.
She waved it off. “It's okay. I've been up eating grass.”
He tried to think of why she'd eat grass. Finally it came to him. “Indigestion?” He asked.
“Don't you know it,” she sighed. “Morning sickness. I'm pregnant, second trimester.”
“Oh,” Jethro said, nodding. “I'm glad to hear you've started your family. Sorry you're sick though,” he said.
“So, what's going on?” she asked.
He told her how they were doing. She was amused by Sergei, they exchanged brief heys. Kovu she didn't like, he had been a royal ass to her even as a child, constantly tormenting her. He said a disinterested hi and then left the troop bay.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“Not your fault,” Cheetara said with an edge in her voice. She had a bit of a growl in her voice, something that shocked him. He knew females were downright moody when they were pregnant, but she sounded fighting mad. “Kovu and I... didn't get along. He was an ass as a cub, he doesn't sound like he's changed much. Once an ass, always an ass.”
“He's... I'd like to say he's getting better. Sometimes he is. He's got a female now, maybe he'll settle down soon.”
“One could only hope,” Cheetara replied. She sounded better, her tone was returning to normal. She shrugged it off. “I'm better off where I am now. He can stay there. Far away from me and mine.”
“I'll pass that on,” Jethro said, seeing a familiar streak of yellow and black come through the door. Senjix looked around eagerly. “I've got someone else here who'd like to talk to you,” Jethro said with a smile in his voice. He handed the comm to the cheetah.
“Cheetara?” he asked.
“Senjix?” she asked, voice rising in a chirrup of excitement.
Jethro snorted. He tried to give them a little privacy, but other cats were coming to talk. Her cousin Corporal Senjix eagerly spoke with her and promised a visit on his next leave. She was grateful, they could practically hear her tears in her voice. Then Senjix passed the link to some of the other cats who each made their greetings.
“I think she's lonely,” Senjix said softly.
“I do too. If I get the chance, I'll try to go with you. If you don't mind,” Jethro said.
“If I can get a ride,” Senjix replied, rolling his eyes. “Thanks Jethro. I mean Sergeant.”
“It's Jethro. Going by rank is rude. You know that. Get in there and talk to her again. Make sure you get her e-mail. Ask her for pictures. We'll see if we can get her some too.”
“Good idea,” Senjix said, smiling and flicking his ears.
“You're good troop,” Senjix said after a moment.
“Yeah, well, don't let it on. It'll ruin my rep as Fonz likes to say,” Jethro replied. That got a chirrup of laughter from the Neocheetah.
...*...*...*...*...
Jethro nodded to the squad as he entered the room. The Lieutenant has reserved the classroom for the day, so he wasn't sure if it was for training or a meeting or what. Usually they trained daily, about an hour online through the network, with maybe one half day a week together in the field.
Now that Jethro was out of training the noobs and into training the advanced courses he had a little more free time. The advanced courses were more involved of course, relying less on teaching advanced tool use and concepts over the basics of Marine corps life and discipline.
“So, what's on the agenda?” Sergei asked, nursing a drink. Jethro shook his head and went to the back of the room. He poured himself a cup and then went over to a seat. “No idea.”
“The boss didn't tell you?”
“No.”
“Okay, so...”
“So, we wait. Be patient,” Jethro said, taking a seat.
“Patient he says,” Sergei sighed. He shook his massive head. “I hate waiting.”
“No, really?” Asazi teased, tugging an ear. He batted her hand away. “No patience.”
“Damn straight,” the liger growled. “I don't like surprises. We're the one that's supposed to be springing the surprises on others. That's recon's job.”
“Which is why we're here, a bit of restructuring is in order,” a familiar voice said. They shot to their feet as the Major stopped in the doorway. Captain Pendeckle and Lieutenant Valenko were behind him. The Major entered, giving the two other officers room to enter and then stand to one side.
“For a while now we've thought of you as a recon squad. Today that changes. You've been wearing a lot of hats. Your MOS says recon, but you barely fill that role half the time. Recon is supposed to ghost in and out, not get in the thick of combat. And definitely not to turn the tables and tear the op force a new one,” the Major said.
Sergei flicked a lazy smile to Fonz who snorted. Fonz turned and did a top and bottom fist bump with Kovu.
“So, we're changing a few things as I said. You're MOS has been changed to Raider and Recon, reflecting your fighting style and training with the powered armor.”
“Yes sir,” Valenko rumbled.
“Right now we don't have a Raider platoon. Your squad is it. It will form the nucleus for the Raiders. Some will be cross over's like your squad, some will be strictly Raiders. There will of course be a lot of cross over's, so don't get all hung up on being Recon or Raider. Neither fish nor fowl it seems.”
“Some are destined for bigger and better things sir? What's above Recon and Raiders?” Fonz asked.
The Major glared down his nose at the Private. Fonz blinked, gulped, and then came to a stricter form of attention.
Jethro didn't so much as twitch. He burned though, angry that Fonz would break discipline by asking such a stupid question. There was really only two groups better than Recon and Raiders, Drop commandos and Cadre. Both were the elite.
“So, to reflect on the change in roles, your next scheduled exercises will focus on your ability to ghost in and out without getting seen. Get in, recon the objective, then get out without being seen. To facilitate that, you will go in unarmed.”
Sergei fought a groan. Jethro's nostrils flared ever so slightly. He'd heard that some recon squads had gone in damn near naked back in the day. In a sim it was no big deal. But in combat? How realistic was that?
Then again, for the Neo's like him, it wasn't any big thing. He flexed his claws slightly. They had weapons. Melee weapons, but weapons.
“You will also be forbidden to kill or injure sentries. The key is ninja. Get in, get what you need, get out.”
Sergei frowned, glancing to Jethro, but he was wise enough not to open his big mouth.
The Major went over to a chair, spun it, then sat. The other officers looked at each other and then they too took a seat.
“When we invade a world, there is an order to who goes in first. You all know the saying, Recon leads the way. Recon gets dropped in, they come back with the data, then we send in commandos to break the enemy's defenses and open a hole for us to land our Marine troops in. Raiders hit the hard targets. Once the beachhead has been seized, you'll link up. Army will follow in to keep things secure.”
He made a face. They all remembered the rivalry between the branches. Right now it wasn't a big thing mainly because there was no other branches. The Navy and Marines were it.
“The Marines are the only constitutionally mandated unit of the armed forces. We are tasked to seize and hold the beachheads, to secure the naval stations, Guard the president, and guard the embassy’s. We are the last line of defense for many. We are also the sharp end of the stick, we get all the hard jobs. Well, most, once someone gets around to reinventing the other branches,” the Major said. He smiled slightly.
“So, when doing your recon role, the name of th
e game is ghost. Get in, gather intel and get out. Hopefully Corporal Ox's drones will help there. I imagine they will prove immensely useful.
Ox rumbled as the others turned to see him. He raised a hand briefly.
“Something to say?” The Major asked, clearly amused. “This isn't class, even though we're in a classroom and you are being schooled. What is it?”
“Sir, I had an idea about an assassin drone. I was putting the proposal together.”
“Assassin?”
“Poison. I don't like the idea of an injection, a dart would be preferable. But a gas might work. Or a nonlethal if we want to go that route.”
“Death is rather permanent. Getting someone knocked out so you can ace by is an interesting idea,” Captain Pendeckle said, rubbing his chin. They looked in his direction. “Finish that proposal. I can see the potential there.”
“Aye aye sir,” the Tauren rumbled.
“I don't see all of us able to get in and out easily sir,” Asazi said softly. “Some of us are too big. I'm guessing they will form more of a... support role sir?” she asked.
“Pack mule,” Sergei muttered.
“I'll let you figure that part out. I'm planning a full up invasion exercise at least once a year. We're going to make our arrival on Agnosta as a regular thing.”
“Fair weather or foul, so be aware of that,” the Captain added.
“Right,” the Major said getting up. “So, split up Raider and recon. Go over the Raider syllabus, I want each of you to be fully proficient in it in a month. Six weeks work load permitting. I realize you all aren't cut out to teach, but remember, you will have to do some teaching sometime.”
“Sir objectives and mission guidelines for the next exercise?” Valenko asked.
The Major turned to him, walking to the door. “I'll let you know. Good job. Carry on,” he said, leaving.
Captain Pendeckle patted his chair and nodded to them. “Semper Fi,” he said and left as well.
“Well!” Asazi said, shaking her head.
“Just trying to get a handle on the roles. Personally, I don't care if I'm in recon role or Raider, if someone's shooting at me, I'm damn well going to shoot back,” Fonz grumbled.
“And that's where you are wrong. If you shoot back you can give away your position or the position of the enemy. For the past two years we've either snuck around, or bulled our way through to the objective, then back out again. That's going to change. We're going to have to get a lot sneakier. A whole lot sneakier.”
“But keep the raider thing going in parallel? How is that going to work sir?” Jethro asked.
“I think we're going to see a shift in the sims,” Valenko rumbled. “I think we'll have clear Recon missions, and clear Raider missions. We may even have mixes like before. But well, as the saying goes, the times they are a changing. We have to learn to adapt and change with them.”
“Yes sir. We'll get it done.”
“I know we will. Together,” the bear said. “So, without further adieu,” he said, waving a hand paw as he uploaded the specs of the mission he had set up before the Major's intervention. “I've got a small exercise to run. But I think we're going to run this short, and critique what is recon, and what isn't and what we need to work on.”
“Yeah, I'd pay big money to see if Sergei can really be stealthy,” Fonz joked.
“And I'd pay good money to hear your bones break,” the liger growled.
“Knock it off and pay attention,” Jethro said mildly, focusing on the mission package. It was a small map, but interesting. “I propose a ghost, stick to the recon. Based on your outlined objectives...”
Chapter 27
Jethro ran into Ox after exiting the daily shuttle. Ox waved from where he was standing in a hangar in front of some sort of craft.
Jethro checked his chrono and realized he had some time to kill so he sauntered over to his friend and squad mate. “Long time no see,” he said.
“Been busy,” Ox rumbled, using his implants to control a remote robot. The thing was obviously a custom job, something the Tauren had no doubt created. It had a series or robotic arms of varying size, two of which were buried in the side of the craft before them. The arms were needed, the Tauren's hands were far too large to get into the tight confines of the drone.
“New project?” Jethro asked.
“Something I've been thinking about and finally got approval to test it out. We did a flight test yesterday.”
“Sorry I missed it. So what did you cook up this time?” Jethro asked, looking at the thing.
“Well, if you must know...” Ox drawled. “Being a nosy cat that you are...”
“I must, I must,” Jethro teased right back, shooting the Tauren a teasing look. Ox snorted in return.
“It's an extended range UAV project. I was going to go with something smaller, but the Major wrote a spec sheet, and well, I always liked bigger.”
“Right.”
Jethro looked at the black rotors on top of the thing. They obviously did something. He remembered Helo's from the old movies. “No force emitters?”
“No. Grav emitters are great, but they make for a large energy signature, large enough for the enemy to not only see, but swat with ease. Besides, they're locked out.”
“True.”
The Tauren had obviously wanted to make something that wouldn't show up on sensors so he had dug into the historical archive and came up with a helicopter UAV. The robotic aircraft had a bulbous head filled with sensors and long wings. It was a sea green with subdued Marine corps markings on it in a ghosted gray.
A ball on the chin could articulate on almost every axis, giving the flying robot excellent all around vision. It had two pods on either side, one for flight, the other for ops. The flight side had a lidar and radar array, as well as a cluster of flight sensors. Inside the other cylinder was the primary look down array, a cluster of terrain mapping lidar, forward looking infrared clusters, a cluster of cameras with different zoom lenses, and a tiny radio receiver to home in on stray radio signals.
The craft had four prop blades and one stabilizer. It had some teething issues and Ox was tweaking it. The interesting thing about the project was the design was entirely original, the Tauren had come up with all the internals from just looking at images in the historical database. Since it was original most of the parts weren't locked out by the fabricators. Ox had taken the time to design the fabrication and assembly steps as well. He was just working out the programming bugs before handing the design off for production.
“It looks good.”
“Just getting the bugs out. It's mostly software now. I adapted a lot of UAV code Veber and I used with the remote balls.”
“Ah.”
“She's a test bed. Once we get her sorted out, we'll be able to mount various mission packages on the stubby wings on the sides,” the Tauren said, pointing to the short winglets jutting out each side.
“I'd wondered about those, with the holes and all,” Jethro observed.
“All plug and play. We can plug in extended sensors, or various weapon packages. Or even a pod to drop.”
“Sensor pod?”
“Or a small coffin pod. Not quite as big as a drop pod, but for someone tiny...”
“Oh hell no, you ain't getting me to ride in one of those things!” Jethro said, shaking his head. Not only was it incredibly claustrophobic, but you had to keep emissions down, so you either had to be physically tied into the passive arrays of the craft, or just unconscious.
“It's just a concept right now Sergeant. Nothing to start shedding about,” Ox teased.
“Yeah right, says you. I know damn well you won't fit in one of those things,” he growled.
Ox shrugged his massive shoulders. “Sometimes it pays to be big.”
“Right.”
Jethro stared at the thing for a long time, then stood back, standing beside the Tauren. “Can you make smaller UAV's?”
“Yes, been there done that remember? Sen
sor remotes?”
“I know. I'm talking outdoor. Say, small,” he measured out about twenty centimeters with his hands. “Or smaller or bigger depending on the job. But camouflaged.”
“It depends on the tasking Sergeant,” the Tauren rumbled, stroking his chin. “It could be done. Anything can be done with the right time and skills.”
“I know. What I'm thinking is a remote designed to look like a bird or bat. Something flexible, maybe made out of plastic so it doesn't show on radar, and quiet. If it could fly like a bat or bird that would be good too.”
The Tauren nodded. “I see where this is going. And yes, there are plans in the historical database. Also in the fabrication database. Generic plans though, each planet has different animals.”
“Yes and no, if it was seeded by Terrans then we could get by with say, a generic hawk or vulture bird. Maybe a crow?” Jethro asked.
The Tauren nodded, silently looking down at the Sergeant. “I can do a crow I think.”
“Can you go smaller?”
“Why?”
“A crow is a bit big on say, a station or something. But an insect?”
“Hmmm...” The Tauren mused. “It's possible. I've seen those too. Let me see what I can come up with.”
“I'll pass it up channels to give you permission to play.”
“Please do that.”
...*...*...*...*...
Getting into the idea, Ox made an insect remote. He tested it out several days later in the Barracks. Jethro went along for the ride but was quickly sickened by the jolting stride and strange point of view. It did its job well though, acting like the cockroach it was designed to mimic. It even wiggled into a vent and traveled the duct system to the basement, then back.
“She's low on power. I could only tuck a tiny battery into it,” Ox said when the roach slowed down. The little thing skittered across the floor of the barracks, scaring the crap out of a few people including Sergei who stomped it flat. The crew in the galley laughed but Ox was a little put out over the death of his toy.
“Damn,” he rumbled, rubbing his temples.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sort of. I'm a bit, um...”
Jethro: First to Fight Page 53
