Casserine

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Lieutenant Larsen decked me the first time I billeted down on Bougainville,” Peters said haltingly. “When he heard I had come from the Command Base at Genoa, he asked if I knew a Grunt named Matthews, doing time on the Rock. I explained I knew an arrogant shithead named Jake Matthews, who should have been drummed out of the service for insubordination.”

  “When I woke up, Larsen was kneeling over me solemnly. He told me if I ever spoke another disrespectful word about you again, he would cut my balls off and jamb them down my throat. A Colony Patrolman stopped to ask if I wanted to press charges. When I said no, Larsen yanked me to my feet. He took me to the nearest bar, and told me about you. Larsen took me all the way from the time you two went to boot together, right up to when he tied your remains into the Drop Ship heading out with the other casualties. He and I became good friends”

  Jake nodded, looking down at the deck, emotion choking off anything other than a nod for the next few moments. “Risling told me he bought it on Bougainville.”

  “He died fine, Sir,” Peters whispered fiercely. “Deke kept going, in the midst of those monsters tearing men, women, and children apart. All of us who made it off the surface owe our lives to him. I made sure him and the others didn’t live more than a few seconds in that hellhole.”

  “I know,” Jake said, grasping Peters’ hand. “Thank you for what you did for him.”

  “I need a favor, Sir, if you can forgive me for what I did to Byers. I wish there were.”

  “Let’s see if we can get you to a place where you can tell her yourself after this ends,” Jake broke in. “What can I do for you? Name it.”

  “You need Drop Ship pilots, Sir. I haven’t piloted one for a long time, but that don’t mean I can’t. I want another shot at these things so bad I can taste it.”

  ‘You’re hired, Major. Pilots with eye to eye contact with these things are in short supply. I have an old Drop Ship pilot on board the Tennyson, Captain Sara Corey. I’d like to hook you up with her. Fill her in on the details of the new stuff the Bugs pulled on Bougainville, and she’ll tell you how piloting a Drop Ship on Omaha was done.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Peters said, saluting again.

  Jake returned the salute, but grabbed hold of Peters’ arm before he could turn to go. “Are you okay, Jas?”

  Peters smiled crookedly at Jake. “I’ll be fine, Sir. Don’t let my looks fool you. I won’t let you down.”

  “It takes guts to go down there again after what you saw.”

  “No Sir, mostly just pure all-consuming hatred.”

  “That’ll do,” Jake agreed. “See you around, Jas.”

  “Yes Sir,” Peters answered, turning and leaving the way he hadcome.

  Chapter 11

  Indigenous Species Encounter Group Mission

  Just as Jake reached down to pick up the briefcase he had carried on board, he heard a commotion outside the wardroom. He heard shouting and then bodies being jostled around. Running out of the wardroom, Jake saw Major Peters in the midst of a group of civilians. One of them pushed him, and Peters answered with a right cross to the man’s jaw. As the group closed in on Peters, Jake ran up to, and through, the fringe of the crowd of about thirty people, with the confused shipboard Marine assigned to him on his heels.

  Jake cut through them as if they were not there, grabbing the three who now were on top of Peters, and throwing them aside as if they were weightless. “That’ll be enough, folks,” Jake yelled out to them, as the Marine assigned to him pushed off on the surging crowd.

  As all of the people began talking and yelling at once, Jake reached down and pulled Major Peters to his feet. He then turned around in the cramped area, filled with fist waving civilians, and held up his hands. “Calm down. I can’t hear a word any of you are saying.”

  The crowd quieted down, and the man who Peters had punched, worked his way to Jake, rage evident on his face. Although in his middle thirties, dark hair tied in a ponytail, with a nametag saying Dr. Weston Flowers, Jake thought at first the man was a teenager. Flowers put his hands on his hips, and thrust his face out in anger.

  “Are you General Matthews?” Flowers shouted in Jake’s face.

  “I am not hard of hearing, Dr. Flowers,” Jake said, smiling at the ridiculous stance the man had assumed. “Yes, I am Matthews. What can I do for you?”

  “I want that man thrown in the brig,” Flowers said, lowering his tone a few decibels. “He struck me.”

  Jake turned to look at Peters, who stared at Flowers with pure revulsion. “I saw you strike Flowers here, Jas. Why’d you do it?”

  “He stopped me to ask if you were in the wardroom,” Peters related, as he watched the man. “I told him yes, but he would need permission to speak to the Commanding Officer of the mission on Bougainville. He said there would be no mission on Bougainville, because they had come to halt the murder of innocent indigenous life on Bougainville. I stepped in front of him, and he pushed me. I hit him.”

  Jake nodded, and turned back to Flowers. “Did you say innocent indigenous life, Sir?”

  “Yes, and you should have orders pertaining to my group’s intention to intercede peaceably with the indigenous inhabitants there,” Flowers told Jake, shaking a finger in his face as the group around him began to become vocal again.

  The Ship’s Marine assigned to Jake engulfed the man’s finger and hand in a gnarled left fist. “Keep your hands at your sides when speaking to the General, Sir, or I will be forced to remove you.”

  Jake smiled, as the man tried to yank his hand away without success. The young Marine Corporal, with Mendoza on his nametag, shook the man’s hand slightly. “Do you understand, Sir?”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” the man repeated angrily. Mendoza released him, and stood at parade rest next to Jake.

  “I have heard of your group from General Risling,” Jake acknowledged. “I have plans to help you contact the poor indigenous things down there. I will give you one chance to change your minds. You can watch the first operation from here. You can decide then whether you want to.”

  “You don’t understand,” Flowers interrupted, momentarily raising his hand, and dropping it just as quickly, as Mendoza shook his head warningly. “You will not lay waste to any more of these creatures before we have a chance to meet with them.”

  Jake sighed, looking back at a completely bewildered Peters. “You said you wanted to fly a Drop Ship again, Jas. Are you game to fly me and these nice folks down to the surface for a visit with the indigenous life forms?”

  “Only if you bring a platoon of Marines with you, and I have a top notch deck gunner,” Peters replied.

  “That would be the only way I plan on making such a visit,” Jake confirmed, “and we will lay an epoxy LZ with line of sight a hundred yards in all directions. We’ll let Flowers here lead his group to the edge of the LZ, so the indigenous life forms won’t feel threatened. How does that sound, Major?”

  “That’ll work just fine,” Peters grinned. “With your permission, Sir, I will seek out Captain Corey, and get my updating done.”

  When Jake nodded, Peters stepped around him and threaded his way through the crowd. “I hope you all can run.” Peters called back over his shoulder on his way down the corridor.

  “Will that be sufficient, Dr. Flowers?” Jake asked him.

  “Yes, I believe that will be acceptable,” Flowers replied, looking around at his group, and receiving assenting nods from the gathering around him. “I will not stand for any of your xenophobic tricks, General.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it, Sir,” Jake replied calmly. “I must insist you and your friends take com gear, and vid cams so we can record your historic meeting.”

  “Very well,” Flowers nodded, “but there will not be any accidental firing of weapons, or any other subterfuge.”

  “Believe me, Dr. Flowers, we will not fire a shot until you beg usto.”

  “Well,” Flowers smirked, “that won’t be happening. When do weleave?”

/>   “I have a Command meeting later, and then it will take some prep before we’re ready,” Jake said, rubbing his chin. “I think we could make a trip down there tomorrow, say 1100 hours?”

  “That would be fine, General,” Flowers replied. “I would like to press charges against that Major too.”

  Jake’s face took on a more grim pose. “Don’t push your luck, Doc. You can send your complaints in to General Risling, but I command this mission, and you’re closer to being thrown in the brig than Major Peters.”

  “I have rights, Sir,” Flowers exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips. “I.”

  “You have no rights here, Doc,” Jake interrupted tersely. “Let me demonstrate. Corporal, if I tell you to draw your hand weapon and vaporize the good Doctor here, what would happen?”

  “Sir,” Mendoza said, snapping to attention. “This man becomes vapor on your command, Sir.”

  “If there are no further questions,” Jake said, surveying the stunned crowd. “I have a lot of work to do.” Jake turned and walked back into the wardroom to get his bag, with Mendoza trailing him. Flowers and his group looked at each other, and murmured a few obscene things under their breath before dispersing to the quarters they were given at the military command’s expense.

  Jake picked up his bag with his left hand, and turned to Mendoza. He offered his hand and Mendoza shook it after a moment’s hesitation. “Nice meeting you, Corporal. I take it you will be showing me to my quarters on the Gallant?”

  “Yes Sir, thank you, Sir. Please follow me. Colonel Stavros has quarters prepared for you with everything you will need to access all data streams on the ship.”

  “Outstanding, lead on.”

  Jake finished transferring project data into a feed, which could be shown in the wardroom, Colonel Stavros had delegated for the meeting and dining. A knock sounded on the entry hatch into his quarters. Jake reached over and flipped the com switch. “Come in.”

  Tim Dougherty entered his quarters, and saluted. After Jake waved him into a chair, Tim sat down.

  “So Chief, what brings you to the Gallant?”

  “The story of your little shoving match outside the wardroom went through the Gallant and the Tennyson in record time. Everyone knows what you have planned for the surface tomorrow. Captain Corey spent every second since meeting up with Major Peters in a Drop Ship, and its common knowledge she plans to co-pilot it with him tomorrow. You will need a deck gunner. I’m already checked out on the new MAG50 mount.”

  “You’re in, Tim,” Jake replied. “You didn’t have to come over personally. I had hoped you would be going.”

  Dougherty grinned. “A call came in to me from Casserine, of all places. I am sworn to secrecy as to the identity of said caller.”

  “It figures said caller’s agreement with me, not to contact each other, would fall by the wayside on my first day on the Gallant. Did Tonto look okay?”

  Tim laughed, being privy to Casserine’s inhabitants’ playacting games. “Tonto looks good, Jake. She just misses you.”

  “I trust you refrained from answering the conniving, information gathering, deceptions, Tonto disguised as innocent inquiries, right Chief?”

  “Boy,” Tim chuckled, “you are good at this. She gave up after the fiftieth time hearing ‘Jake’s doing fine’. I am duty bound as a military participant in this armada to inform you of Tonto’s attempt to bribe me into being an informant.”

  “Why that little…okay,” Jake said, shaking his head, “what did she have to offer?”

  “She found the two bottles of old French wine you had stashedaway.”

  “My bottles of Chateau Lafitte Rothschild?” Jake asked sitting up with a stunned look, giving away quickly to exasperation. “Damn, I never thought she’d find those. A Colonist on Bedford gave those to me. They’re priceless. They’re also probably like vinegar, but the old bottles themselves are worth a fortune, intact.

  “She said you’d never miss them,” Tim continued, as he laughed at Jake’s pained expression.

  Jake grinned, and shook a finger at Dougherty. “You prick. She already co-opted you into pulling this on me, didn’t she? Adrian would never say that.”

  “Guilty,” Tim said, laughing uproariously. “You reacted pretty much just as she said you would.”

  “My Buddy,” Jake said ruefully. “You’ve been hanging around that deceitful sidekick of mine too long.”

  “She said you can get even with her when you get back.”

  “Count on it,” Jake stated. “If there’s no more of these fun and games, I have a meeting to attend.”

  Tim stood up. “I will see you tomorrow, Sir. We will surely do some information gathering then. Do you expect any of those whackos to survive?”

  “I hope to get most of them back, but it will be touch and go,” Jake answered. “They refuse to listen to reason. Once we record this adventure here on Bougainville, we will never have to explain the dangers of interspecies’ contact again.”

  “Amen,” Tim said, retreating to the door. “Good luck at the meeting.”

  “Luck will play no part in this meeting.”

  Jake looked over the lists of Omaha veterans from the Gallant’s crew, and the five Marine Regiments. Disappointment showed clearly on his face as he read over the names from one list to another. After only a few minutes, he looked up with a puzzled expression on his face.

  “All we have out of 20,000 personnel on board here, who served on Omaha are: one Drop Ship pilot, ten ship support people, and seventeen Marines? Hell, the Tennyson has four Vets.”

  “Sir,” Tokoru stood up. “After Omaha, many of the Marines who served there left as soon as their hitch ended. Many never wanted anything more to do with Colony missions after that. The ones who stayed in, who are listed, have distinguished themselves, and their advancement in rank reflects it.”

  Jake nodded his head, glancing down at the lists with a rueful smile on his face. “I see one did not rise in rank much. I recognize Charlie Mercer’s name. It says here he’s in 1st Regiment, Second Platoon. He has only attained the rank of PFC.”

  Colonel Conger stood up at attention. “Sir, PFC Mercer is a troublemaker. He was a Lieutenant when transferred to 1st Regiment, but has been busted down repeatedly for disrespectful conduct.”

  “That so?” Jake grinned. “Charlie went down into the nest with me. Deke Larsen, Charlie Mercer, Tommy Yee, Buzz Shroeder, and me were the only ones who lived. I want Charlie to report to me right after this meeting, Colonel.”

  “Aye, Aye, Sir,” Conger acknowledged and sat down.

  “Charlie was with Deke on Bougainville, wasn’t he, Colonel?” Jakeasked.

  “Yes Sir,” Conger answered. “If not for Larsen’s pampering, Mercer would have been court-martialed long ago.”

  “It seems that Mercer, the screw-up, held the hatch on the escape ship, along with Larsen and a few other Marines, thereby saving two thousand Colonists on Bougainville. I’ll take as many of those pampered screw-ups as I can get,” Jake stated. “Now then, Colonel Tokoru will be my

  Executive Officer. He will take you through the breakdown of scheduled operations for training. I.”

  “Sir,” Colonel Stavros interrupted. “Forgive the interruption, but the mining company executives who escaped Bougainville are clamoring for a date when they can resume mining operations. They have already dispatched complaints to Command on Genoa, and their Home Office there.”

  “I’m glad you brought that up,” Jake acknowledged. He looked around the table. “Let this be fair warning to all. Any person, hampering my operations on Bougainville, after I take care of these retards tomorrow from Bug Lovers Anonymous, will be tried immediately by military tribunal, and sent to Tannengate Penal Colony. Marines and Ship’s crew may die in this operation, but it will not be because we needed to speed up things for our mining concerns. Is that clear to everyone?”

  When Jake received the enthusiastic affirmations he sought, he nodded for Tokoru to proceed. Toko
ru, who had been briefed by Jake before the meeting, directed the group to the vid panels in front of each meeting participant. Over the next hour, Tokoru explained the use of epoxy landing zones, Drop Ship renovations, and the planned excursion with the contingent waiting for an interspecies rendezvous. Tokoru also made sure, as per Jake’s meeting with him earlier, that all Omaha Vets were to be transferred to Company and Platoon leader status, dispersed evenly throughout the five Regiments. Jake took over after Tokoru finished the briefing.

  “If there are no further questions, take your panels with you, and study them. I want everyone on this ship watching tomorrow’s Bougainville excursion. We will meet again after I get back. Will there be any problem with the satellite tracking network I want set up to measure Bug activity, Colonel?” Jake asked Stavros.

  “No Sir. I will have it up and running well before you go on the mission. You said when you get back. You don’t mean to lead this personally, do you, Sir?”

  “I will be leading every mission on Bougainville until I am unable to, especially the one tomorrow. General Risling, as Colonel Conger pointed out earlier, did not pick me for this mission because of my expertise in Command. Colonel Tokoru will be briefed every step of the way, and will be ready to assume command instantly in the event I do not make it back. This has nothing to do with ego, only common sense.”

  “Captain Sara Corey, from the Tennyson, along with the other Drop Ship Omaha Vet, will be in charge of our air wing operating on Bougainville. She will begin supervising updated training for all pilots after we gather video data tomorrow. Anything further?”

  When no one spoke up, Jake nodded at Tokoru.

  “Remember,” Tokoru said. “I will be available for any clarification from now on. See me if any question arises, or you have any suggestions on tactics or supplies. Dismissed.”

  Everyone filed out except for Tokoru, who stayed behind to see if Jake had any further instructions.

  “Yuri, make sure Conger sends me PFC Mercer. Whoever that other surviving Marine was down on Bougainville, make sure he gets a field promotion to Platoon leader.”