Authors: Bernard Lee DeLeo
Jake tapped on the outer hatch door of Captain Corey’s quarters.
‘Tea,” Corey answered on the intercom.
“It’s Jake, Sara. Can I come in?”
The hatch hissed open a moment later. Corey stood to the side of the entrance, and waved Jake in. “Have a seat, Sir. Congratulations on your promotion. Can I get you anything?”
Jake nodded, and went over to sit on one of the two chairs in the quarters. Corey came over and sat down in the other one. Corey looked to Jake as if she had not slept since he had seen her last. “How are you Sara? I heard my little presentation hit you kind of hard.”
“I never thought I’d ever see another one of those things, Jake,” Corey admitted. “To see those movie things appearing so close to the real thing, and then find out the ship I’m on is heading out to find them in person, well.”
“I know,” Jake cut in. “I came here to tell you not to worry about it. You will not be flying a Drop Ship down to the surface at Bougainville. You did your time, I’ll.”
“General,” Corey interrupted, “I’m not a coward. I know with what happened the first time we met up, you might have some doubts, but.”
“I have no doubts, Sara. You have the option of acting in a teaching position until we hook up with the Gallant, and depending on how many Omaha Vets they have, you may continue on in an advisory type status. I need pilots to know what to expect, and how to react when they take Marines to the surface. Work with the others beginning right now, and then let me know later whether you want to pilot down or not. No pressure. Fair enough?”
“More than fair, Sir,” Sara said gratefully. “Will this be like Omaha?”
“Hell no,” Jake said emphatically. “We have a whole lot more going for us now than we did then. It would help to have a video record from Omaha, but there are enough of us survivors to get everyone else ready. We will be in orbit with the Gallant until I am satisfied with our readiness. They rushed us onto Omaha, and used us for bait. That will not happen again.”
Jake stood up and held out his hand. Corey snapped to attention from her chair and saluted instead. Jake returned her salute formally. Corey completed her salute, and then awkwardly hugged Jake. He returned it, holding her tightly for a moment.
“Byers is a lucky woman, Sir,” Cory told him, as she stepped away.
Jake laughed suddenly, and explained how Adrian had said goodbye to him. He left Corey, still howling in laughter he could hear even as her hatch closed behind him. His next stop was the bridge, where he found Major Stedman going over navigational information, on asteroid fields along their course, with one of her flight crew. Stedman saw Jake and held up a finger, indicating she needed one more moment. Jake nodded, and busied himself by peering over the Weapons Officer’s shoulder. For a transport, the Tennyson was heavily armed, due to the nature of the ship’s main duty: transporting fuel cells. The Weapons Officer, Lieutenant Richardson, smiled over his shoulder at Jake.
“Hello General, congratulations.”
“Thanks Nick. I never got a chance to thank you for leaving me that MAG50 on Casserine. It made all the difference.”
“I knew they were underestimating the situation down there,” Richardson nodded. “Hell, what would an RP30 do against a ship with even minimum armor. I made out on the deal, Jake. You did all the work, and
Risling gave me a commendation for pointing out the situation. I’m the man now, because you know how to work the tools.”
“I heard the General made you the new Weapon’s Officer on the Tennyson. I didn’t know it had anything to do with leaving me something to defend myself with. I knew you snuck me the Fifty out from under Anderson’s nose.”
“He busted me down at the base in front of Risling, just before you blew the shit out of that Pirate cruiser. Risling booted him into a desk job in inventory, and gave me his crib,” Richardson explained with satisfaction. “When in doubt, always back the Marines.”
Jake laughed, clapping his hand on Richardson’s shoulder in appreciation. “Remember that when we get to Bougainville, Nick.”
Richardson stood up and turned to face Jake. His mahogany color seemed even darker while wearing the bridge crew white uniform top. He looked into Jake’s eyes from the same level. “Anything you want, Jake, you ask. Hell, I’ll get you a planet killer. You can blow Bougainville off the star charts. We’ll tell Risling it was an accident.”
“Thanks Nick, I appreciate that,” Jake smiled. “I would like your input on whether we can mount one of the MAG50’s on each of the Drop Ships in a turret. With those special warheads, we could clear an area real fast without landing.”
“Great idea,” Nick said, turning to his console and calling up the diagrams on a Drop Ship. “Look here.”
He touched the screen and the section just under the nose enlarged, showing a storage area. “Will a hundred and twenty degree span out the front do?”
“Oh baby,” Jake nodded. “That will do nicely. How long, Nick?”
“I’ll get together with Chief Russell and get the prototype into high gear. We should have something to test by the time we get together with the Gallant. Once we know it works, fitting the rest of the ships with one will be a breeze.”
Stedman came over and heard their last remarks about Jake’s idea. “You have to be careful about being clear of the blast zone with the new MAG50 warhead, General. It can have some unintended circumstances for anything caught in the updraft.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, Major,” Jake shook hands with Richardson. “Thanks Nick, I’ll get back with you later.” “See ya then, Ja…uh General.”
Tactical Mission Parameters
Stedman led the way to her command office just off the bridge. She motioned Jake into the chair in front of her desk, while she sat down behind it, facing him with her hands folded on the desktop. “I have the latest weapons, mining, and Bug information on your terminal back in your quarters, General. All the lab data and suppositions leading up to locating the nest on Omaha has also been made available to you there.”
“I would like the information put out for all crewmembers to see, and the order relayed to the Gallant for those five regiments of Marines and Ship’s crew to look over. Can you do that for me too please?”
Stedman looked confused for a moment, and then a slow smile spread over her face. “You really don’t give a rat’s ass about being in command, do you, General?”
“Call me Jake in here, Ma’am. I only care about one thing on Bougainville: getting on top of that Bitch Queen with my gear knife, or blaster, with the fewest casualties as possible. Anyone can have a better idea than me before we get down to the surface, but once we mount up, I give the orders. Any ideas the crew or grunts come up with in preparation, I want to hear.”
“Sounds good, I’ll get it done. Did you get a chance to talk to
Corey?”
Jake nodded. “She’ll be fine. I’m putting her in charge of relaying her experience on Omaha to the rest of the pilots. If she wants to make a drop on Bougainville, fine; but if she doesn’t, she earned a pass on Omaha.”
“I’ve heard you have ideas of leading this mission, Jake.”
“I didn’t think the General would need to discuss that item yet.”
“He just made it clear who will be running this operation, and speaking for myself, I think he’s got the right man for the job. I just think it could be a disaster if something happened to you in the middle of this,” Stedman added.
“Before we hit Bougainville, everyone will know what everyone else will be doing, and who will take over for who. I know it would be idiotic for me not to have someone behind me in the command structure. When we get together with the Gallant, I will find out who leads the five regiments of Marines.” Jake paused, and considered his next words carefully.
“If I have my way, these things will not get a chance to eat their way through the ranks of my command. I will be expecting the worst. The General told me the lab boys believe these things have some kind of group consciousness, and they may be prevalent throughout the Omaha quadrant. If we plan on mining anywhere else besides Omaha, we better come up with a better plan than we had there.”
“That made the hair on the back of my neck stand up,” Stedman agreed. “The General explained these Bugs may still be learning. Have you heard there’s been an outcry from some advocacy group on the Beta Colony?”
“Outcry about what?” Jake asked puzzled.
“They think we should try and communicate with these things instead of.”
Jake was already laughing uncontrollably. His laughter proved infectious as Stedman joined him. More than a few moments passed before Jake sat wiping his eyes, and sitting relatively quietly. “Oh Major, I needed that.”
“The General told me these folks are serious,” Stedman continued. “They sent a delegation out to the base, on one of the transports, to petition for mediation. They believe all records were destroyed on Omaha to cover up the extermination of an innocent alien species, for the purpose of clearing the way for mining.”
Jake sat shaking his head, and grinning, as Stedman presented the information. “What did the General do? He knows first hand what a benevolent species inhabited Omaha.”
Stedman smiled back. “He told them to gather up whomever they had, stupid enough to form an alien encounter group, and we would use them as bait to draw out the Bugs.”
Jake once again burst into laughter. “Oh my God, he said that?”
“Oh yeah,” Stedman confirmed. “I have another news flash for you: they took him up on it. They will be rendezvousing with the Gallant about the same time we do. General Risling made them hire private transportation out there on a freighter bound for Omaha, but he told them they could stay on the Gallant until they committed suicide.”
“I guess there are really people too stupid to live,” Jake sighed, “but that ain’t no way to die. I’ll think about a way to use them for bait, test a couple of theories, and then save as many of them as I can. We’ll put a camera on them too, and pipe it back to the Gallant for everyone to see. We’ll send the survivors back to Beta Colony with their video, and an attitude adjustment.”
“You really think you can save any of them?”
“I think so. We were bushwhacked on Omaha many times before we learned to operate from rocky ground to rocky ground. We have large quantities of epoxy we use for all manner of support, from Cruiser docks, to habitat support. The stuff’s impregnable, unless broken apart and removed with lasers. We can.”
“Spread it everywhere we send troops,” Stedman broke in excitedly. “Why the hell didn’t they think of that on Omaha?”
“It’s expensive, but I hope that wasn’t the reason,” Jake replied. “In any case, it could be a good time to give these dolts a chance to meet the Bugs, and still be able to pull a lot of them out of there in one piece. As ludicrous as it sounds, this may be a valuable exercise.”
“I’ll call ahead to the Gallant, and have them head out for Omaha. They can gather up as much of the stuff as they can from there. We have quite a bit on board here, earmarked for other stops after our support mission on Bougainville.”
“I can talk to General Risling, and tell him my plan. He can send another freighter out with some more,” Jake suggested.
“Use my console,” Stedman offered. “I’ll get back to work while you update him.”
“Thanks Jan.”
“No problem, it’s nice to watch a professional work.”
“Ditto.”
Stedman nodded, and left to take up where she had left off on the Bridge. Jake went around to her console and sat down.
“Jake,” Risling said with a smile of surprise. “I didn’t expect to hear from you until you were aboard the Gallant. Did you run into trouble?”
“Not yet, Sir, but I did hear about the civilians headed for the Gallant, who want to have a tea party with the Bougainville indigenous species.”
Risling laughed, as he nodded affirmatively. “Yep, and even showing them the
Starship Troopers
vid had no effect. They didn’t believe it. They thought I was trying to scare them into giving up their mission of mercy.”
Jake went on to explain his idea for Epoxy landing zones to offset surprise attacks, and what he had in mind for the civilians.
“Hell of an idea, Jake,” Risling said excitedly. “I’ll have a transport in route with as much of the stuff as I can gather. Christ, why didn’t we think of it on Omaha?”
“We were too busy trying to stay alive, Sir.”
“Tea,” Risling agreed. “I don’t care what you do with the civilians. Use them any way you see fit. I almost shot their leader before they got the hell off Genoa anyhow. He’s already on borrowed time.”
“I’ll save as many as I can, Sir.”
“Listen up, Jake,” Risling said grimly. “You have a free hand in this all the way from Earth High Command. Anybody interfering with your operations will be subject to military tribunal, and if you find them guilty, they will go directly to Tannengate Penal Colony. You have my word on it. Martial Law has already been declared in regards to all survivors and other civilian personnel on the Gallant. I don’t want another five thousand Marines ripped to shreds on Bougainville, trying to placate a bunch of idiots.”
“That will not happen, General. I am sure you will be getting complaints on my handling of this mission, Sir, but it will not be because of throwing away the lives of the men under my command.”
“Have you reconsidered the stupidity of taking point on this mission?” Risling asked, smiling to take the bite out of his words.
“My experience will not do anyone any good from the Bridge of the Gallant. You didn’t pick me because I was a genius.”
“I guess not,” Risling replied. “I picked you because you are one obstinate son of a bitch, I could trust to get the job done. Just don’t get killed doing it, Jake.”
“Aye, aye, Sir. Obstinate SOB out.” Jake ended the transmission with Risling’s laughter still in his ear.
Jake stepped through the last hatchway into the Gallant, with Major Stedman next to him. They saluted the Commanding Officer of the Gallant, Colonel Anton Stavros, requesting permission to come aboard. Stavros, a solidly built man nearly a head shorter than Jake, walked up with his hand out after completing the formalities. Jake shook hands with him, and then his command contingent waiting with him, including the commanding officers of the Marine Regiments on board. All, including Jake and Stedman, were in full dress uniform. Jake had put on his temporary Brigadier General’s stars.
The Gallant carried a full ship’s compliment of fighter escort vehicles, Drop Ships, and all terrain surface craft. It could house comfortably five regiments of Marines, as it now did, in addition to its own crew and pilots. Stavros led them all to a wardroom, where a conference table had been set up in advance. Stavros and Stedman sat on the right side of the conference table on either side of a Lieutenant Colonel, who commanded the air wing aboard the Gallant. The Marine Corps Regiment Commanders sat opposite them. Jake took the seat at the head of the conference table, and remained standing.
“I have never seen any of you before now, except for Major Stedman,” Jake began, addressing the five regimental commanders. “Did any of you serve on Omaha during the battle with the Bugs there?”
When no one indicated serving, Jake turned to the other side of the table. “Very well. Do any of you know how many Omaha veterans you have in the ship’s company or the Marine Regiments?”
Commander of Marine 4
th
Regiment, Colonel Yutaka Tokoro stood up with a smile. “I do not think many vets are left from Omaha, Sir. I didn’t serve, but I was on a ship in orbit, ready to be sent to the surface when you went in to the nest and killed the Queen. Happily, I am not a Vet of Omaha, thanks to you.” He paused as Jake nodded, and the others laughed in appreciation. “We should have anticipated your question, General. If you will give us a few moments, we will find out.”
“Thank you,” Jake acknowledged, as Tokoro sat back down. “That’s the kind of attitude I expect. Just give me the truth and no bullshit, and we will get this war done in quick order. I would like a list, from each regiment, of the number and ranks of Marines who served on Omaha. I need the names of pilots, gunners, and support personnel, who served aboard the Drop Ships and land vehicles at Omaha.”
“I know we lost five thousand Marines on Omaha, which only leaves about twenty-five hundred survivors out of the five original regiments who served. With the years that have passed, I would not expect there to be many, but we need them to be spread throughout the regiments, so their experience may be shared with the greatest number of Marines. The same goes for the crews and pilots manning the Drop Ships.”
“Listen to this closely,” Jake stressed. “We will not be losing five thousand Marines on Bougainville. You have all been briefed already on the latest weapons and mining methods. Once you get the personnel lists together, I want to hear any ideas suggested within your commands, no matter how off-the-wall they sound. I would like to adjourn now, and give you a chance to gather the data. Let’s meet back here for dinner, and discuss your progress. Is there any other matter any of you wish to address now?”
Commander of Marine 1
st
regiment, Fred Conger, stood up. Jake could tell he was in his late thirties, and looked to be a no-nonsense commander. He had shaved his head, and he still had a light tan appearance, which could only have been from commanding on solar-rayed terrain. Jake guessed he was a little over six feet tall. Conger’s thick musculature made for an imposing figure.
“No disrespect, Sir,” Conger said with a slightly arrogant look. “What exactly have you commanded before now? I mean, Sir, what made General Risling recommend you to command the entire Bougainville mission?”
“I commanded a squad of Recon Marines on Omaha, and a similar squad at the Tarawa Jump Gate,” Jake replied, as the others shifted uneasily in their seats. “For the last five years I commanded myself on Casserine, and recently one disrespectful Lieutenant I married a little while ago. As to the General’s reasoning, I would have to assume he likes the way I think, and I have acquired some extra abilities, since being on Casserine, he knows about.”
“What abilities might those be, General?” Conger said with a laugh. “They would have to go a long way to make up for your lack of experience in command.”
“I have enhanced strength. My body has a heightened resistance to pain and damage, due mostly to a reaction I had to the poison I contacted from the Queen on Omaha, combined with the peculiar radiation and gravity on Casserine,” Jake said truthfully. “Although you probably have a vast amount more experience commanding men than I do, Colonel, I don’t plan on commanding men so much as I do leading them.”
“What the hell does that mean, I.” Conger blustered, as he shrugged off a hand from one of the other commanders.