by Chris Hechtl
“That's up to him. I don't know. Next question.” he said as a sea of hands was raised once more.
“Sir, was there a personal message to you from Admiral Irons?”
“Yes. The nature was personal and classified. Some you know, some I'm not going to tell you. Next question.”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Renee went through the formal after action board, really an afterthought she thought. It was quick thoug;, Captain Harris sat in as senior since Captain Logan was busy with the industrial plant. Apparently, that firmware update had kicked a lot loose; the Captain had been going around to every military industrial center kicking them into high gear churning parts out again.
She loved the idea; she just hoped they'd get Firefly's contribution done sometime this century. She hadn't wound down yet, still turning out reactor, hyperdrive and weapon parts as quickly as she could be supplied with material. Whatever the Admiral had done to allow it, she wasn't going to stop it. They needed every bit.
But that meant a steady stream of people coming and going from Firefly's berth with goods. It also meant a heightened security presence, all because a couple media idiots had tried to get into the ship disguised as workers, or so she had thought. She'd found out earlier in the morning that someone had been out to hijack loads. Scuttlebutt said Lake or Dean or some of the other corporations.
The review board sent her an all clear e-mail after she returned to Firefly. She snorted, then went back to work.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
April was all over the story, and of course, called in her friends to do interviews. Renee obliged, apologizing for not taking her along.
“It's okay, I know it wasn't your decision to make. No hard feelings, Captain,” April said, smiling politely. “And by the way, congratulations on the promotion,” she said, smile turning into a dazzling grin.
“Thank you,” Renee replied with a grin of her own. “A bit faster than I'd thought, but I'm not complaining.”
“Thank you for passing on John's message. It felt good. I'm glad he hasn't forgotten,” April said.
“Ma'am, you are rather hard to forget,” Renee replied with a twinkle. “And something tells me if he had, you'd find a way to remind him.” Both women chuckled at that.
“And thank you for giving me the scoop of the century. I've got a lot of competition gnashing their teeth and pulling their hair out right about now,” April said wickedly.
“Probably true,” Renee replied with a laugh. She sat back smoothly and cocked her head. “So, where would you like to start?”
“At the beginning if we can...” April said.
Once she'd worked her way through her most interesting Navy contacts April decided a change of pace was in order. Some of the media outlets had focused solely on the Navy side, discounting or ignoring the Marine's contributions to the battle. She decided to rectify that.
She put in an interview request for the officers but was denied. All were quite busy they said. So, she put in a call to an old contact. Jethro was surprised, but he agreed to meet.
Jethro put in an e-mail to Valenko. The bear sent back his blessings for the interview. “Keep her off my back. My back and the Major's and we'll be eternally grateful.”
“Yes, sir,” Jethro replied, now amused.
They met in the studio. She talked with Jethro, mostly small talk as they settled into the interview booth. Jethro looked around. It was simple but stylish; a small room painted in pastel colors with a couple chairs and a place to hang a poster of some sort.
“So, the Marine's Marine,” she said. “Senior noncom of the mission.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jethro said with a nod.
“How have you been, Gunny?”
“Well ma'am, I've settled into the new rank. It's taken me a bit, but it grows on you.”
“I see; congratulations on that. I see it's been going around,” April said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“The cream rising to the top,” she murmured wickedly. He flicked his ears. He felt Bast scan the room but silently signaled her to be quiet. This was the one place and time he didn't want her to be curious and possibly expose herself.
“So, you fought in Antigua, then ran all the way here...then took on new raw recruits and trained them before leading them into brave boarding actions in B101a1...”
“It...that's a gross oversimplification ma'am. And for the record, yes I trained them, but they weren't raw recruits. All had some training, and most of the privates had graduated boot.”
“I see,” she said, saucily playing with a stylus against her lips.
“And no, I didn't lead them into battle. Yes, I had two squads, but Major Pendeckle and the other officers were in charge. I just went where I was told.”
“I see,” she murmured. “And so humble too,” she teased.
He flicked his tail as his ears flattened a bit. “Just doing my job, ma'am,” he said stubbornly.
“Okay, so what did you do?” she asked.
He laid out the journey, training the Antiguan volunteers and then swapping them for Marines on Agnosta.
“It must have been frustrating, once you've gotten them halfway up to speed having to start all over again,” April said sympathetically.
“Not really ma'am. None of them had any form of combat experience. We were limited on what we could teach them on the shi;, there is only so much room and only so much computer time allotted to us.”
“I see.”
“Taking on the trained Marines allowed the officers a great deal more flexibility, ma'am. They broke us down into squads, and then I went to work with the other noncoms bringing them up to speed. It was much quicker than with the recruits.”
She cocked her head and seemed to concede the point.
“You know most of what we did here in Pyrax when we passed through. On the way to B101a1 we trained hard. The saying goes, the more you sweat the less you bleed. We, well, I can't technically sweat but you get my drift,” he said with a shrug. She smiled.
“Once we were in the system the officers let us know what was going on. When the shooting between ships stopped they sent us in to board the ships. The fighting was pretty stiff on some of the ships. We lost some good people,” he said darkly.
“I didn't know that,” April said quietly.
“Yeah well, it is the job,;we're Marines. We know the risks,” he said gruffly. “I was in on the initial boarding of Queen Adrienne, the ship the Admiral renamed the Maine. The bastards fought hard, they wanted to win just as bad as we did. That was expected. We hammered through though. I think it was a combination of luck and their own command staff committing suicide that let us win that one.”
“And the other ships?”
“Well, I think you know what happened on Oasis. That...” he shook his head. “I was in on some of the other boarding actions, including one of the destroyers that went with Admiral Irons. After the fighting stopped, we picked up the pieces, mourned our dead and then started rebuilding.”
“I see.”
“I was transferred with my unit to the prison ship. We had a couple rough spots; we were pretty shorthanded. We had to land hard on one attempted mutiny. Fortunately, we didn't lose anyone, though Ensign Esh'z did get cut up and lose an eye.”
April winced. “It must have been tough.”
“No, even though they had numbers on their side they didn't stand a chance. They were outgunned and well, out of luck. We just had to make the point to them. Again,” he said. “They seemed thick headed.”
April smiled. “I see.” She cocked her head, accessing her notes. She had a tablet in her lap but found that having her notes on file in her implants made her interviews so much better.
“Did you see Admiral Irons?”
“A few times, ma'am. And I did spend some time with him briefly. I think I mentioned you,” Jethro teased. She blinked, and then had the grace to blush a little. “He did mention his jump and what happened on Epsilon.”<
br />
“I was curious why he had left.”
“Well, ma'am, after someone tried to snatch him, I don't think he had much of a choice. A moving target is better than a stationary one.”
“I see,” she said frowning thoughtfully.
She had heard about the attack on Irons in Epsilon, what was judged as a snatch mission. She had also found out that it had been suppressed by the other news agencies; apparently the Governor had bribed some people to keep it hush hush. Since the fleet knew about it though, she gleefully reported it after she got enough confirmation to get it past Knox.
That lit a firestorm of controversy since Governor Walker had been implicated in the snatch attempt. His cover-up had also been exposed. She knew she'd made some enemies, but at the time she'd loved the twist but hated the timing. Had Knox let her run the story earlier, say a week before, it would have hit right during the election and spiked Walker's guns neatly. Unfortunately, for whatever reason her boss had held off, dithering with legal about it or some such he'd said. Which had screwed her, but it had made for a nice cap on the election. Quite a few people had been disgusted over the whole thing. Some had even called for a fresh election.
The Governor's people had been quick to deny the entire thing as a rumor. “Since this took place in another system, there is a jurisdictional issue,” the attorney general had been quick to point out in a press conference. “We have no evidence beyond circumstantial and innuendo. Any that we do have is obviously tainted and therefore suspect. Until we are contacted by authorities in Epsilon we will not waste our precious time and funding on a witch hunt. Remember people,” he had smiled politely. “Everyone is allowed due process of the law. And everyone has the presumption of innocence.”
Interview requests with the military had gotten nowhere. The public affairs department pointed them to NCIS and JAG, who refused to comment or discuss an open investigation. They did confirm one existed however.
Most of the media had been, stonewalled so they'd given up on the story for other news.
“Do you know what happened? Did Admiral Irons share with you any information about it?” April asked, eyes concerned.
“I...I did hear a little bit. One of the people escaped, a human woman. The Admiral uploaded an image and description of her, but I can't give it to you. I got some of it from the media too. From that information...”
“Alleged information,” April said, holding up a warning finger.
He nodded but grimaced slightly, flicking his ears to her point. “...I have…I think I recognize one of the people involved.”
“Oh?”
Jethro nodded. The JAG and NCIS would probably have his ass, but he didn't care at the moment. “An Asian woman. I remember her vaguely. I'm not sure of her name. I barely remember her; I met her as a cub. I do know she freaked me out.”
“She scared you? You?”
Jethro snorted. “I wasn't a Marine then, ma'am, just a cub. Yes I'm a Neo, and most Neos are predators or omnivores, but this woman was a predator too. One who hunted for the fun not for food. That's something hunters abhor; those who hunt for the thrill, for sport. A true hunter hunts for food. They don't kill just...just because you can,” he said shaking his head. “Neos are really touchy about such things.”
“I see.”
“I think her name started with a P. Miss P or something,” he said thoughtfully. “It could be a T.”
“Miss T. Mystery,” April mused.
“I'd watch that, ma'am. She...seemed prickly about her name.” He shook his head. “Damn I wish I could remember it,” he growled. He shook his head. “I remember her nickname was...Reaper, I think.”
“Oh?” April asked, raising an eyebrow. This was going in directions she wasn't comfortable with but was unfortunately familiar with. Unfortunately familiar for the panther's continued life if he didn't quit.
“Like I said, I... knew her. Vaguely. She was an...associate of my sire Jet.”
“Jet. Your father...didn't he attempt to kill Captain Logan?” April asked.
Jethro squirmed uncomfortably. “Yes, yes he did. I'm not happy about that. He...he went his own way. I wanted a clean start, to follow my dream of being a Marine.”
“So he took it as an insult? And decided to take revenge on Captain Logan?”
Jethro shook his head. “Jet wasn't like that. He always said you never killed for revenge, only for defense or profit.”
Her brows knit thoughtfully. “So if it wasn't defense...”
Jethro's ears went flat. He realized he'd screwed up. Again. Bast yowled in his ears.
“Yeah, he worked for the guild. Yes, there is a contract out on the Captain,” Jethro ground out. “I'm betting it is still out there. The same people who put one out on Fleet Admiral Irons most likely did it. You'll have to look elsewhere though; I've washed my hands of that and my father's past.”
“Very commendable young man,” April said, eyes narrowed slightly. “If it is true,” she said.
Jethro shrugged and smiled slightly. “We all know how this works. The truth is subjective in your field. I'm just a Marine, ma'am, I tell it how it is.”
“I see.”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
April took a casual walk in the college park. People were about; it was quite busy, half way between lunch and dinner. Just as she and her contact had arranged, a public place. She found the double bench and sat down to wait. After a few minutes she grew bored and crossed her legs. She watched the people walking about with lazy eyes. As a celebrity she was or should have been easily recognized. She normally wore her bright yellow jumper, and her red hair was quite distinctive. It was pitifully easy to disguise herself then; if you expected a red head no one looked twice at the snub-nosed brunet in a white poka dot sundress.
She'd even donned rose colored sunglasses for the occasion. They were a bit overborne, more for her anonymity then actual protection from the artificial UV light.
Ten minutes into her wait she was rewarded. She sensed the presence of another person on the other side of the bench. “Nice day,” she murmured.
“Yes it is. I wish they'd let birds loose here. It would be fun to feed them,” the other said.
“It depends on what birds you mean. Pigeons are little more than rats with wings,” April replied.
“True, but there is a remedy for that I suppose,” her contact replied. “And now that the small talk has been established...”
“My, are we in a hurry?” April asked.
“I just don't like being near a reporter. Even one so fetchingly dressed,” her contact replied. “You have something for me?” he asked.
She smiled and withdrew a small item from her bra. She palmed it, hand dropping to where his hand was. “An...issue. Something you and the family should be aware of,” she murmured.
“Ah, another one of those,” the contact sighed. “I do so hate those. Loose tongues. You'd think they'd learn.”
“Fortunately, the interview was recorded, not a live broadcast. I edited out the...troubling bits. It is amusing when your own boss orders you to make cuts; what he doesn't know won't hurt him I suppose.”
“True.”
“What you do with it is up to you,” she said as she passed a flash chip. She got up and brushed her lap off. “Have a good evening,” she said as she left.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
As members of the military and the refugees started showing up on Anvil or the other colonies they were ambushed by paparazzi. The competition to get the juiciest bits was fierce, so some credits exchanged hands with the customs officers to get an alert if someone of interest was coming in, where, and most importantly, when.
If the person was an officer, they were met with a media circus. Some didn't mind the interviews; they seemed amused or thrilled by them. Others didn't like the spotlight, they just wanted to go have a good time in the limited time they had available. They tended to put a hand up to fend off the glare of the spotlights and wild shouting q
uestions and then moved on. Station security would sometimes show up to help people cornered get away.
All of the crews celebrated, hitting any bar or pub they could. Some of the media got wind of that and staked out a few of the bars, paying a premium to the staff for information or recordings.
The crew didn't care; they got free drinks, food and services. That was extended in some areas for all military personnel on Anvil and on some of the colonies.
Footage turned up of the prison colony from a protected source. The Horathian prisoners were vilified as Marines were shown escorting them to the detention station. There was a bit of blood lust for a short time. Calls to execute the Horathian pirates and any turn coats were vigorously denied.
“Unlike the enemy, we don't kill for sport, we don't torture for pleasure. We've kept them alive because they have some value and to put them on trial. Those that committed heinous acts will be punished. Our JAG and intelligence officers will ferret out their secrets one by one.”
“Sir, so you’re saying they are of an intelligence value?”
“Don't you go about and make contacts? Sources? Well, we need information. We'll get it.”
“Sir...”
“It's also about honor. Some surrendered honorably. Some never participated in the war crimes. We know that. We're weeding the sheep from the wolves. It will take time, but we'll get it done.” He glared about, fists clenched. “However, if we find evidence of war crimes then the guilty will be punished.”
“What does that mean, sir?” April O'Neill demanded.
“It means those who abused prisoners, committed war crimes such as bombing populations, raped, tortured or murdered for fun, or practiced genocide will be punished,” he said with cold final eyes.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
April spent some time thinking about what she wanted. What the future needed. What she wanted for her future. After a while she came to a decision and went to Knox. She had to handle it carefully, so she planned accordingly.
“You can go in; he's expecting you,” Moya said, looking up.
