Jethro: First to Fight (83 page)

...*...*...*...*...

Ox worked near the rear of their lines,
doing what he could to keep the equipment functional and charged. Ammunition
flowed like water at times, as did energy. Fortunately he'd found a way to tap
the station's power net so they no longer had to rely on power packs from the
shuttles.

He looked up to see a familiar body
bending over a downed suit. The suit was odd, much like a medic's suit with
robotic arms, but this one had six arms instead of four. The other two were on
the back along the shoulders, much like Jethro's wings. “Riley? What the hell
are you doing here?” he demanded.

“What's it look like?” Riley demanded,
welding a strut on a Marine's leg. “Working.”

“Riley? Sergeant Riley? What's he doing
here?” Valenko demanded. He spotted the engineering suit and then scowled.

“I'm busy don't bug me. Keep doin what
you're doin,” Riley said dismissively, still focused on his work. Harley came
over and knelt beside him, waiting her turn. Her right arm hung uselessly at
her side. She'd taken pieces of shrapnel in the arm, it had cut her hydraulics
and broken some of the motors. She'd tried to fix it, but hadn't been able to
do so. Ox had been swamped by other damage.

She was useless to the fighters, her
rifle had been DX'd so she hung in the back, playing Hyena forklift, moving
ammunition to the front lines with her good arm.

Now she saw a chance at getting back in
the action. She tugged on one arm and made a puppy sound.

“In a minute Harley! Geesh!” Riley said
in disgust. “Hang on, I'll get to you when I'm finished here,” he said.

Valenko snorted, shaking his head. He
paused when a familiar icon appeared on his HUD. “Sir!” he said as it came
within sight. Marines around him stood or looked up.

“As you were,” Captain Pendeckle said,
moving forward. He nodded to Valenko and then studied the Marines around them.
“Good work all of you.”

“Sir are you assuming command?” Valenko
asked.

“Seems that way,” the Captain rumbled.
“Sorry to steal your thunder Valenko, I know you're doing a bang up job here.
I've brought some friends though,” he said waving to two squads of Marines
coming in behind him. “I skimmed off some of the Marines from the nearest
derelicts to lend a hand. This seems like the hot spot. Let's put it out.”

“Aye sir,” the bear said. He'd given his
boss tactical updates and sitreps by the hour but he turned, pulling a flexible
LCD sheet out of his pocket and then holding it out. An image of the station
appeared on it. Marines preferred the sheet because a holographic projector
could be seen by a spy, or its depth could be misinterpreted.

“Zimmer is cut off two decks above us.
He's still refusing to surrender. He's gone around and gathered up his trapped
forces. We're estimating his forces at around two platoons worth. Some of them
have improvised powered armor as well as crew service heavy weapons.”

“I see.”

“The problem is he's got his back to the
wall, the only access is through this clearing here and here,” the bear said,
pointing to the wide open ground in front of where the Horathian's were hold up.
“It's a killing field, he's got snipers above looking down, and his heavy
weapons covering the area.”

“So, we can't go in the hard way...”

“Exactly what I was thinking sir, above
or below. The problem is we've got a water tank below them, that's no good.
Above is an industrial zone. We can get in there, but not with our suits.”

“The elves?” The Captain asked.

“They are down to eleven effective sir,”
Valenko said, making a face. “They took out about a half a platoon's worth for
their dead, but are still working on the other half.”

“Ah,” the Captain said, nodding. He
studied the image. There were nine other hot spots, locations of Horathian hold
outs. “Well, we could set up a holding force here, keep them bottled up then
work our way through the others one by one.”

“Siege?”

“They've got to eat sometime right? We
can consolidate our forces, maybe pick up some natives to help,” the Captain
said, indicating two natives that were with the Marines. “Worse comes to worse
we can cut off their life support and suck them out.”

“True sir, but they're next to a life
support plant, it's that nest of piping and balls behind them.”

“Ah. So, maybe that's out. Well, let's
just clean up the left over's first then,” the Captain said. He looked over his
shoulder and waved a hand to a fresh squad of Marines. They nodded as he
uploaded new orders to them.

...*...*...*...*...

Ox and other Marines continued to use
the new shield system. Hunkering behind them just made sense, allowing them to
soak up fire as a mobile cover until they could go to ground.

But the shields had their weaknesses,
they shed plasma fire but the heat quickly overheated the equipment. Also,
continuous fire wore down their power, and a few of the civilian grade
capacitors had died on them, cutting their power budgets in half.

Several Marines were injured or killed
in combat, however usage of the shields kept casualties down he could see that.
When they secured the power rooms Ox ran into Gwen grieving over the still
smoldering body of Torg. Ox paused in surprise. She looked up and nearly shot
him. She stared for a long moment then the fighting resumed. She dashed tears
and then got back into the fight. The Horathans found that their so called
experience never taught them how to handle this situation, real opposition.
Before they had dug out and terrorized unarmed or lightly armed civilians. The
Marines were experienced, they had first line hardware, and knew how to use it.
They also had the advantage of proper schematics and the aid of the station's
crew.

Even those Horathians who were somewhat
good found that disabling or destroying the cameras and sensors it didn't help
much. The enemy could tell where they were from the power draw in an area. If
they disabled the life support they were left floating in the dark, with only
canned air and no hope. And the Marines were much more scary coming for them in
the dark.

...*...*...*...*...

Sergei feigned a berserker charge of his
own, fooling the enemy into ducking behind their improvised cover just long
enough for the liger to bend double and lob a couple grenades into their midst
using his mortars. “Suckers!” he called as they detonated. The Horathians were
torn up by the grenades and then the screaming survivors were taken down by pin
point fire.

...*...*...*...*...

Fighting grew more intense as the
Horathians became more and more desperate. They knew they had nowhere to go,
and knew what was most likely in store for them. After all, they had done all
sorts of terrible things to the prey they had captured, it was to be expected
that the natives now wanted revenge.

They fought for their lives, if not
gallantly, then as hard as they could, only grudgingly giving ground when
needed. Sometimes they gave ground on purpose, to draw a squad into a trap.

Asazi lost her left leg from the knee
down in the fighting. Her implants automatically stopped the bleeding, even
though the plasma had cauterized the wound. She dragged herself upright enough
to shoot back, killing an enemy who was about to kill her. Sergei passed her,
tapping her on the shoulder and then charging onward. She grunted and growled
she'd be along in a minute. Gusterson knelt beside her and immediately rolled
her. She gasped in pain and vertigo. The meds her implants had administered
were making her loopy. He checked and cut off the bleeding and then put her
out.

...*...*...*...*...

Once the all important reactors and life
support plants were secured the Marines concentrated on finding and eliminating
the pockets of Horathians. They were joined by Sheriff Derrango, a wounded Savo
and Howi, along with other volunteers. The sheriff had lost half his deputies
in the fighting, but the rest grimly refused to quit. They wanted to finish
what they started.

...*...*...*...*...

Exhausted Horathians looked up and
cringed at the sound of weapons fire. Then it stopped and they breathed a sigh
of relief. That relief lasted only a moment. “This is Captain Pendeckle of the
Federation Marines,” A voice bellowed. It seemed to be coming from all around
them. “We have you surrounded, there is no place to go. Throw down your weapons
and surrender.”

“Surrender to scum?” a noncom snarled,
raising his rifle. He looked at his men. “The first one who even suggests it
gets a belly full of lead! We're not surrendering!” he turned, “You hear that?!”
he screamed hoarsely. “We're not giving up! You want to take your time
torturing us right? Well frack you! You'll never take us alive!” he snarled
grimly. He looked down and checked his ammunition. He scowled bleakly. He had
only four rounds left.

...*...*...*...*...

Zimmer made a last stand in his HQ,
firing with his pistol, snarling at the enemy. “You'll never take me alive!” he
snarled. “You won't beat me! Scum can't beat me! You're beneath me!” His men
fought on, but when they realized it was hopeless one turned on their Commander
and shot him in the back of the head. Then one by one they lowered their
weapons and raised their hands.

“We're coming out! We surrender!” one
young Private said, tears coursing down his face. “Don't shoot!” he said, shaking
like a leaf.

...*...*...*...*...

“It's over, it's finally over. It is
over right?” Gusterson asked tiredly. He looked beat. He leaned against a
bulkhead, ass against it, keeping him from falling over.

“Goddess of space I hope so. I'm too
damn tired to move,” Panache chittered. She'd faced her demons. She knew she
wasn't whole, but she knew she was a Marine. Standing up to her fear, tearing
down the demons, that was what they did. She wasn't going to let fear rule her.
Not anymore.

“I'm going to park my ass right here and
not move another step,” Sergei rumbled, taking a seat and then propping his
back up against the bulkhead. He closed his eyes and just rested, relaxing his
entire body.

“How's Kovu and Asazi? Any word?” Clive
asked, taking a seat next to the liger. He looked up to see Harley take a seat
on the other side.

“Asazi's stable, she's going to make it.
Replacing the leg will have her out for a while... Kovu's in surgery now. No
word on his condition but I know it's bad,” Gusterson said tiredly. He closed
his eyes, trying to drink in the peace and quiet. It was strange, after over a
day of fighting to find quiet so scary.

Valenko peeked around the corner. “Come
on Marines, we've got work,” Valenko caroled, waving them onward.

“Right,” the liger drawled, getting to
his feet slowly. “Break's over,” he sighed. He turned and pulled Harley and
Clive to their feet.

“Thought you were going to park it?”
Panache asked.

“Orders. Duty calls,” the liger rumbled.
“Let's get this over with so I can take a nap for oh, say a week. No, make it a
month. That is right after I get a great big steak and time for a nice scratch
all over.”

“I'll take some honey and a beer,”
Panache said.

“Okay, beer too,” the liger said,
slapping the Veraxin on the shoulder. Gusterson snorted, looking over as they
left. He sighed. Technically he wasn't a Marine, he could hang tight, but he
knew better.

“You coming or not?” Sergei called back.

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” the greyhound
sighed. He looked down at his blood soaked armor and then straightened slowly.
He'd have memories of this day, memories, nightmares for years to come. But
he'd done his best, he knew it. Still, it wouldn't stop him from second
guessing himself, thinking he could have been just a little faster, had gotten
a clamp in to save someone quicker, or spotted the shrapnel tearing someone up
sooner. He'd have those days, but not today. He hefted his rather light med kit
and his rifle. Those days were tomorrow. Today he had more lives to save.

“Coming,” he said again, moving out.

Cybers like Doctor Trask and the
Stewards and Berkhearts were kept busy trying to piece the station together or
keep essential services functioning. Doctor Trask was up to her virtual neck in
helping triage the wounded.

The Marines ultimately saved the station
and many lives in Antigua, but the cost was dear. Thousands of civilians were
dead, most had been executed by the Horathians long before Firefly had arrived,
but a few had died in the fighting. When the fighting stopped the celebrations
began. Hearing this the cowering civilians came out of their hiding places.

Now that they had a handle on things
Captain Pendeckle took a squad of Marines and relieved Jethro. The panther
nodded and then left to return to his unit.

“Sir,” the radio operator said, waving a
hand. Captain Pendeckle turned tiredly. It had been a long couple of days, and
he sorely missed sleep. Hell, he knew he was tired, the grunts on the line were
probably dragging. He made a note to rotate his people to get some rest and
downtime soon. Food at the very least, and not the crap they had in their
suits, real food. “What is it? Firefly?” he asked, coming over to rest a hand
on the back of the lad's chair.

The radio operator looked up to him
briefly and then shook his head and returned his attention to the screen in
front of him. “No sir, we just sent them a sitrep ten minutes ago. No sir it's
the Governor.”

“Governor?” the Captain asked, now
confused. Then he remembered his briefing, Governor Randall. “Oh him.”

“He's asking to talk to you sir,” the
operator said.

“I believe he wishes to speak with all
of us,” Yan Fu said, his holographic image coming over. He waved a hand and the
Governor's image appeared in the center of the room. The room darkened a bit.

The Captain scowled at the cyber but
then turned his eyes to the image. “Governor, you're on,” someone whispered.

“I am?” the governor asked, and then
cleared his throat. He was a young man, in his thirties, brown hair, handsome,
with a bit of a fatigued look. His eyes were a bit red, his face drawn from
lack of sleep. It seemed that the Marines weren't the only one catching their
Z's, the Captain thought.

“My name is Governor Jeff Randall,
Governor of the Antiguan star system. I'm addressing the people of Firefly and
the Marines on Antigua Prime. On behalf of my people, I humbly thank you for
your efforts on our behalf, and your sacrifice in doing so. Thank you for your
heroic rescue, something we shall forever treasure.”

He waited a beat then cocked his head.
“I know you're busy, but what can we do to help? In other words, what do you
need?”

“A hot meal, a shower, and a bed would
be nice,” a Marine quipped. The Captain turned a glare on the Marine who ducked
his head. “Just saying.”

“Saying something we'd all like. I've
got the restaurants going back to work, we'll feed the Marines and the fighters
from our best sir,” Yan Fu said, tucking his arms in his sleeves. “Our noble
defenders deserve the very best,” he murmured.

The governor's eyes turned to the image
of the cyber in surprise and then he nodded. “Is that all?”

“Sir,” Captain Pendeckle said coming
forward. “My name is Captain Pendeckle. I'm the senior Marine officer.”

“Ah, Captain Pendeckle. Thank you. I
can't wait to meet you in person,” the governor said, smiling politely.

“Sir, um, we could use some support.
Additional medical support, as well as any police support you can muster. We've
got the station locked down, but there are still a couple of Horathians on the
loose here. Once the civilian population returns to fully occupy the station
they could get lost in the shuffle. We'd like to prevent that if we could.”

“I see. And I fully agree,” the governor
replied, nodding grimly. “These... men must be brought to justice. I'll send up
the deputized militia. Just as soon as we can get some shuttles down here to do
so,” he said with a shrug. “That's a hint by the way.”

“They're on their way governor, or will
be shortly,” Captain Mayweather replied, entering the conversation. “Commander
Mayweather, Captain of Firefly. We've been busy getting our damage under
control and supporting the Marines, but our flight deck can launch a few
shuttles your way Governor. If you'll let the spaceport people know they're
coming I'd appreciate it. I don't want any nervous people shooting them down.”

“Agreed. I'll take care of things on my
end. I hope to meet all of you soon. Good work. Thank you, all of you.” the
governor said and then signed off. There was a weary cheer from those in the
room, some clapping, but it faded after a moment. People patted each other on
the back or just rested, taking deep breaths. It wasn't over, but it soon would
be.

“And now back to work,” the Captain said
tiredly.

...*...*...*...*...

Now that the system was secure, Firefly
dispatched her shuttles planet-ward. Shuttles moved the newly formed Antigua
planetary militia to the station. Relieved of that burden, the sheriff and his
surviving deputies took over guarding the pirate prisoners so the Marines could
finish sweeping the station. Once the station was secure they moved on to help
secure ships that hadn't yet been boarded. Marines took whatever opportunity
they could to sleep, some on shuttles, others while standing.

...*...*...*...*...

Once the station was cleared from top to
bottom, they began assessing the damage and digging out care of the wounded and
the dead. Valenko's squad was given the honor of hauling down the Horathian
flag in park 5 and putting up the Federation colors. They did it quickly, but
with full honors. The pirate colors were hauled down and then Harley tossed it
into the air. Sergei tracked it with his plasma weapons and torched it.

Panache and Jethro unfolded the
Federation flag and then pinned it to the lanyard. The Marines came to
attention and saluted as the flag was raised.

That video of them raising the flag went
viral on the station with the survivors, and then on the planet when it hit the
media.

Two days after the fighting finally
stopped there was a sobering Memorial for the dead. The memorial helped bring
the various groups closer together, even more so since in a rare act of unity
the Marines and naval personnel that had died would be mourned right along with
the images of the civilian dead.

Captain Pendeckle hastily arranged an
honor guard. The Marines that had remained on Firefly shuttled over to the
station in their mess dress. They stood at attention with their weapons at port
arms on either side of the images of their fallen brethren. When it came time
to render honors they held their hands over their hearts.

The Marines would have a second memorial
and full formal funeral for their dead when they returned them to Agnosta for
burial.

The imagery was shown on every news
channel across the station, planet, and system. Mairi stood beside Lieutenant
Huert as the fallen pilots images were shown. Only images of each pilot was
left, their bodies had been vaporized when their craft had exploded. The image
of the young defiant teenage girl tucking her tiny hand into the pilot's and
looking up to her in concern was a powerful one.  Several people made
posters and shirts of the image. It became a rallying cry to join Pyrax and
defend the system.

...*...*...*...*...

The solar farms, some of the smaller
transhab stations in orbit, and the two docking slips were still functional,
though the slips had been chewed up a bit.

Yard Dogs inc did a damage assessment
within twenty four hours of victory. The slip was a twisted mess, the far end
broken and twisted to wrap around itself. It drifted there, a torn mess. “A
third of the main slip is a goner. The smaller slip is okay. The habs and
assembly modules are okay, though two were breached. Both have been patched. It
would be far better and quicker to just cut the mess up and start over,” Clio
reported.

The two freighters that had been trapped
in the slips were intact, though one had some minor damage from when the dock
wrapped around it. Petunia led a work crew out to cut away the bent metal and
then feed it into the truss fabber.

One of the first items on the agenda was
a replacement gas giant refinery. When the station and planet had refused to
surrender the pirates had gone on a destruction spree, sucking the refinery dry
and then blowing it up in a senseless act of destruction. The refinery was
critical to maintaining the function of the station, yard, and refueling
Firefly, so it had to be replaced ASAP.

...*...*...*...*...

Video of Firefly's incredible battle and
the security camera footage of the Marines heroically fighting were big with
the population. Euphoria over the battle and its aftermath hit the population
like a wave as they realized that it was over, the nightmare had ended. Many
took stock and somberly mourned their dead, or went looking for those that had
just vanished in the chaos. Randor led his people out of the caves and back to
Eternia city. Others did the same.

The rocks that had fallen on their
planet had done devastating damage to not only the PDC's, but for those that
missed or had been chunked up by the defenders had rained down on the
countryside, hammering everything in their path. Craters pock marked many parts
of the planet. When the media showed that it got the population firmly
interested in better defenses since all but a few of their ground installations
were obliterated by the rock storm.

Many of the militia wanted to sign up
with the Marines. Others wanted to sign up with the Navy. Demands were placed
on the mayors and governor to do something to prevent this from ever happening
again. A petition made the rounds to join the Federation. It built up steam
when the media got wind of it. Thousands stood in line to sign it.

...*...*...*...*...

When things didn't seem to settle down
Governor Jeff Randall mounted the steps to the capital building. A crowd
gathered quickly as a podium was set up. This was unusual, it wasn't called
for, the governor hadn't announced it, there were no planned events to mark it.

It was an overcast day, moody, perfect
for some. “Today, we mark a week since our system has been liberated from the
Horathian oppressors. A week ladies and gentlemen, a week of silence, of
mourning our dead, of burying them and taking assessment of the damage and
trying to make good on it. A week to realize, we can never,
ever
, let
this happen again.” He stared out, every fiber of his being the strong
statesman. His wife nodded.

Grim faces nodded to him. “We have much
to thank, our liberators the good ship Firefly and the Marines she brought into
battle. Without them we would still be under the boots of the Horathians,
slowly watching them stamp out civilization, honor, and justice from our lives,
watch them crush the life out of our people.” He paused, looking away to clear
his throat. Someone in the crowd sneezed, another blew his nose. A few of the
cameras clicked, and there was a rustling as journalists jostled to get better
coverage but otherwise it remained quiet.

The unexpected speech interrupted the
media broadcast. Some bemoaned the interruption, resenting it, wanting to go
back to their normal schedule. But they listened anyway, curious as to what the
governor had to say.

“We've been humbled ladies and
gentlemen.
I
have been humbled. Humbled by hubris and by the incredible
generosity and sacrifice of the military, who rode to our rescue without being
asked, who laid their lives down so that we should live, without ever asking
for thanks.”

He looked away and then to the sky for a
long moment. It was clouding up, the weather forecast was calling for rain. A
few drops had hit, umbrellas were nearby ready for use. He nodded and
continued. “I made a terrible mistake and many of our countrymen died for that
mistake. But we must keep moving on, one foot in front of the other. We have
learned a terrible lesson, and we shall take that lesson to heart,” he said,
staring out over the crowd. It was a mixed crowd, some hadn't quite blamed him
for the lack of preparation yet, but he knew it was coming. He had to get ahead
of it if he had any hope of political survival. “Our ancient Terran ancestors
once said something quite true. The price of liberty is ever vigilance. Lest we
ever forget. Today, tomorrow, a hundred years from now we should never ever
forget that again.” He looked at his children and his wife. He'd lost friends
in the bombardment, family. “
I
will never forget,” he said simply, to
them. His wife bit her lip and nodded. A few umbrellas were shook out and held
up. Others followed as the rain began to pick up.

“We have to do something. What has yet
to be determined. Many have called to join the new Federation, to return our
people to the greater civilization. For a while I and others thought we were
better off alone, we ignored the events happening outside our system. After
all, who cared? As long as they didn't bother us, we could care less.”

He frowned. “And then they came. They
came and killed. And we found ourselves on the receiving end. And when all hope
seemed lost, we were saved by people trained by Admiral Irons in the highest
standards of Honor, Duty, and Sacrifice.”