Jethro 10 Snippet 4

 

Chapter 4

 

Atlas XIV

 

Jethro checked on the status of his unit. They had reorganized the TOE in the aftermath of taking the vast ship. Now he had another headache to deal with.

Each fire team had a block of sectors to monitor and act as SWAT. So, one fire team had nine sectors to respond to. It was a lot of ground to cover. They were on ten hours, off four, and then on for another ten. They were also on call. They each had up to six robots to control, but the robots were not as good as an actual fellow soldier.

They were backstopped by Marines in powered armor in a few hot spots but they were few and far between. Many of the powered armor troops had to also guard critical areas of the ship.

Marines and MPs were guarding specific areas or acting as a liaison with the Horathians that they had deemed trustworthy. There had been a few incidents and several Marines had been killed in an ambush, but so far nothing too earth shattering.

There were NCIS and JAG teams scattered about the ship too, doing interviews. They and the engineering teams were the most annoying. They had to have guards too and some were damn annoying. A couple of the JAGs wanted a personal escort of Cadre.

Not going to happen, he thought sourly.

<<(O)>>

Bast monitored Jethro's emotional state along with a host of other things on her list. She was being pulled in a variety of directions just like the other AI. They had gotten support from the ship AI, but it was still an ongoing struggle to keep up with all of the demands for their attention. Luckily they had some support from the ships in the fleet. Batmobile's ship AI, Alfred, and some other ships had come into the main bay and docked in order to directly help in the network.

She was looking forward to the downtime to allow her to process and sort through the mess. An organic would think of the downtime as rest and recovery, and many still did not understand just how vital it was for her kind as well as their own.

<<(O)>>

Sergeant Sabu McClintock liked the enemy combatants. Well, okay, the ones that were dumb enough to carry a weapon and fight back. He couldn't do much about the ones that gave him a dirty look at the moment.

The die hards were the ones that were making things oh-so-difficult and yet simplifying things at the same time. They were outing themselves and painting targets on their backs. But they were keeping him busy. It was the ones in the crowds, the sneaky shits, that had some of his people worried. They were fully expecting a knife in the back at any turn.

It was enough to make any good soldier paranoid. They could only let their guard down in areas that were completely cleared of Horathians. Even then peace and security was relative; they'd had a couple of incidents of people trying to slip explosives into safe zones, or blow plasma conduits to flood areas with plasma that would destroy everything that it touched.

He'd heard about the guy who'd strapped explosives to a baby and tried to hand it off to a corpsman.

Nice people, he mused darkly.

Well, it was to be expected; after all, they were technically uninvited guests. Not really guests, he corrected himself, new landlords.

At least they'd gotten the leaders to bed. All of the Horathian leadership were in stasis. The theory was that by cutting off the head of the snake the body could thrash and cause some damage but not cause as much trouble.

Honestly, he didn't see them as a snake. More along the line of a flock of headless chickens.

If they ever did find another leader, things could get sticky.

He had another two hours on shift and then he was down for four hours. He was looking forward to a break though he dreaded looking into his sister's status. Word was that they were going to decide if they should try to rebuild her here or ship her back home for Zuhura and the medics to do the job.

Considering how complex it was to regenerate limbs and other bits, his money was on shipping her back in stasis. That was a shame; she should share in the victory. Or at least help cleanup after it, he mused.

Typical, he thought as he keyed a memo.

"Really? Writing a reminder to tease your sister about leaving her mess to clean up?" his AI teased.

"Something like that," he said as he finished the memo and then got back to work.

<<(O)>>

Major Snorkle nodded as he read the latest reports. So far they were holding. Naval officers were taking charge. Integrating the sleepers into their ranks was both helping and a hindrance. Many were suffering time-related trauma. That was fully understandable, though they needed to be identified and either given the chance to process off duty or find another coping mechanism while still remaining useful.

The medics had offered to put some who had been suffering severe symptoms back into stasis; however, that had backfired. They'd had a couple of violent incidents. Fortunately, none fatal.

One of the best things that they had going for them was that the enemy was unorganized and uncoordinated. They couldn't communicate with each other well. Attempts to do so were identified, monitored, and forces were directed to capture them once their locations were narrowed down.

He rolled his shoulders. The one spot of good news was that all of the injured were off ship, in hospitals, or in stasis like Suqi McClintock. The captured Horathian leadership was as well.

He'd feel a lot better when they were off ship too. For the moment, they were stored in the stasis bays that had formally held the previous Federation skeleton crew.

<<(O)>>

Minotaur watched a civilian shipyard worker break down. She cried softly until a coworker found her and then knelt to talk to her. He made certain she was not going to become violent and then tagged a bot to monitor the situation before moving his attention elsewhere.

The AI was seeing that a lot with the civilian side. The AI had set up their own forums with things to watch out for and people to check on regularly. He had shielded his principle from such unwanted attention. Ox was still struggling with some of his PTSD but had a handle on it. Throwing himself into the work helped a great deal.

Speaking of which … he noted the JAG officer approaching Ox and hit record. "This should be interesting," he stated for his principle's ears as he alerted him to trouble coming his way.

<<(O)>>

"This should be interesting," Minotaur's voice said for his ears only. The Tauren's big ears twitched and then he saw an icon on his HUD coming up behind him.

"You there, Cadre," the attorney stated.

He turned. The woman was dressed in a skinsuit with body armor strapped over it. She had a sidearm strapped to her hip and a helmet.

"Make sure that there are no power interuptions to the number six grid. The last flux burned out a life support module."

"How?" a navy tech argued. "They should be buffered, right?"

"They bypassed the breakers and hard wired it into the net."

The human tech grimaced and then shook his head. "Stupid."

"Stupid, yes. In a hurry or just lazy. Either way, we don't have the spares right now to replace the breakers so we're flying without a net. So beware."

"You there," the strident voice said.

"Dismissed," Ox said as he turned to the lieutenant.

"Yes … Lieutenant Yerenski?" he asked mildly. A message from Major Snorkle's AI asking for a status report came up on his inbox along with six others from naval officers.

"I need to get to the number six hold and interview the prisoners there."

"Yes,  ma’am, it is that way," he said as Minotaur pulled up a map to indicate the direction. "Take the port corridor and then get to the lift, then down seven levels. There are security teams at the lifts to direct you if you get lost."

"Or she could use the map on her HUD," Minotaur said for his ears only.

"I require an escort," she stated. "Clear your schedule. I'm assigning you to my security detail for the duration."

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."

Her face clouded. "I'm an officer giving you a direct order, Sergeant …," her face cleared as he felt her reach through her WiFi to tag his ID implants. "… Chief Warrant Officer Ox?" she asked. She blinked and then her eyes went wide. Instinctively, she came to attention as the ID tag showed a CMH icon. "Ah …?"

Ox blinked slowly as she came to attention. He normally resented how some people reacted to his having the medal. He now understood why Jethro tried to hide it. But in this case, it was proving amusing and useful.

The Congressional Medal of Honor award meant that he was supposed to be saluted by anyone else who had not recieved one irrigardless of rank. They were also generally deferential to him. He could see her embarrassment as her cheeks flushed as she came to attention and saluted.

He came to attention and returned the salute.

"Sorry, Chief, I didn't recognize you."

"Not a problem," he stated mildly.

"It's not like there are a lot of Taurens in the Cadre," Minotaur said acidly in his ear. He flexed his jaw slightly to let the AI know that the sidebar wasn't helping.

"Ma'am, if you don't have a map, I can upload it to you. We are currently in a safe zone. There are no Horathians in this bank of sectors."

She frowned but then nodded reluctantly.

"If that is all?"

She nodded again. She still looked embarrassed.

"Good. I've got to get back to work. I need to be in four places at the same time," he said as he huffed a theatrical sigh and left. "Yes, Major, I'll be there," he said loudly enough for her to hear.

She blinked and watched him leave.

<<(O)>>

Jethro 10 Snippet 3

 Sitrep:

So, J10 is off to Goodlifeguide who said they will get it back to me by the end of the month. So, on track there.

I am past the half way point writing the current manuscript. It is a bit of a struggle here on out though. Not fun. There are a lot of ships and stuff to keep track of.

In other news, it is unseasonably hot... or soon will be here on the west coast. Way too dang early to be kissing 95 let alone nearly 100 later in the week! GRR! I hate hot weather!

On to the snippet!  

Chapter 3

 

Triang

 

Jones checked the news with an eye to what they'd missed. The team had dispersed after the Antigua job. Much to his annoyance, the Feds had gotten a bit more than they'd like. The client was most likely not going to be happy.

If he wasn't careful, he might find himself on the wrong side of a cleanup spree. He had participated in them before. He never wanted to be on the wrong side but knew that it was a risk of the job.

The colateral damage had the media up in arms. The Feds had plastered images all over the media. There was no mention of DNA. So much for cyber covering their tracks, however. They had been lucky to get out of Antigua at all.

Well, the good news was that they'd had some partial success and turned over the DNA samples to the lab goons. He had not been offered a bonus, and he'd been wise enough not to ask about it.

If he got out of the area alive, he'd be quite content and call it a win.

<<(O)>>

Triang orbit

 

“There was no viable DNA in any of the samples that were recovered, sir,” the tech reported.

Nigel Mosfet was surprised and alarmed. He was unsure how that was possible. He frowned and then realized in the haste of the situation there might have been cross-contamination. Besides, it wasn’t like it had been a sterile environment to begin with. “Contaminated?”

“No, sir, no DNA. Not a trace of the target DNA. The only DNA we found were from the team which we filtered out.” He looked offended. “I ran the test three times to confirm.”

“How is that possible?” Nigel scowled. “All beings shed hair, skin … There should have been something!” He flapped his hands in distress.

“Unknown.” The tech frowned. “It could be that the hairs lacked follicles. I don’t understand the lack of skin cells.”

“Clearly we need to figure it out if only for our own uses in the future. So look into it.”

The tech nodded, looking slightly relieved to not be in trouble. “Yes, sir.”

Once the tech had retreated, Nigel frowned as he leaned against the chair. He tried to frame the report but he didn’t know how to do it without it coming back to bite him.

The one bit of good out of the report was that he couldn’t get called on the carpet for the failure. The general couldn’t ream his ass through the ansible. But the delay was hardly comforting. It just put off the inevitable.

He sighed softly and then selected a program. He selected a sympathy card in the pre-determined selection. He used his cipher to write three code words into the innocuous message and then read it. It looked good enough so he hit send.

What happened next was out of his hands.

He frowned. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He knew he had another mission coming up. But he could and probably should tidy up some loose ends.

Two of the mercenaries had come out on the passenger liner with the samples. Jones and Smith. Well, not Smith, he had links to the senator and was too useful. The review he’d seen had shown that Smith had done just about everything right.

He frowned thoughtfully and then called Smith in.

“You summoned me?” the agent asked in mild amusement.

Nigel turned to him. “Yes, I take it you heard?”

“Heard?” the lead agent asked mildly.

“Never mind then. Thoughts on fallout?”

“Moderate. They got better images and video than I’d thought.”

“I know.”

“I have a couple of agents on Antigua. I can have them work on some quiet cleanup.”

Nigel nodded thoughtfully. “We need to get into those files and erase them,” he warned. “All evidence needs to be contaminated or destroyed.”

Smith nodded. “That will be tough and won’t come cheap.”

Nigel frowned. “I’ll check with higher on a budget.”

Smith nodded.

“What about the operatives that got out?”

“All extracted successfully as of last report in. Four are headed south to ET. They’ll get lost there.”

Nigel frowned but then nodded. If they didn’t get picked off by the mobsters, they might get picked up by the Feds. If they did, they might have to do something about loose ends later.

The ET connection would obscure the real client, however, he reminded himself. But it would draw attention to unwanted parties.

“The good news is that it had the desired effect,” Smith said.

Nigel blinked as that statement penetrated. “In what way?” he asked.

“The side client wanted the heat off of his home. He got it. The target’s mother raced home in a courier. Word is she just got there.”

Nigel blinked and then pursed his lips.

“You know this how?”

“Saw it on the news a few minutes ago. I was actually coming to tell you.”

“Ah.” Nigel thought about it and then nodded. “Funny how she made the news.”

“The connection to her illustrious husband and of course the recent attack on her family no doubt,” Smith stated.

Nigel nodded.

“What about the operative that came in with you?”

“He’s solid. Laying low. Waiting for orders. Possibly expecting the ax to fall.”

“Paranoid?”

Smith snorted. “Wouldn’t you be in his shoes?”

“True,” Nigel admitted. “I’ll find out from higher if they want a general housecleaning. You and I both know that they won’t be happy.”

Smith froze. He turned to Nigel. “I take it the samples had issues?” he asked slowly.

Nigel just stared at him.

Smith’s Adam’s apple bobbed briefly and then he nodded slowly. He was internally kicking himself for not checking the samples sooner. “Good to know. Though I don’t understand how that could have happened.”

“Be more careful in the future.”

“Definitely,” Smith said fervently. “Most definitely.”

<<(O)>>

Wampa Bust

 So, I couldn't resist posting this here:

I 3D printed this guy at the original scale that Sabertooth Collectibles sold it as, made another and sent it to Regal Rebel, but then I got to thinking and well...

Lol.

I added fur and here he is. Nice learning project for fur and airbrushing. Special thanks to Uncle Jessy and M.M. Props Shop for the encouragement.

I've got enough fur to do 1-2 more projects. Debating on which. Mom asked me to make an ewok. lol. I was leaning towards Snarf.

Jethro 10 Snippet 2

 Sitrep: So, Rea has sent me back J10. I hope she has fun in Irvine at the track meet. :)

On to the snippet!

Chapter 2

 

Antigua

 

“I love my job,” Willow said as she took the stairs to her boss’s office. She had short legs so the steps were slightly uncomfortable for her dwarven physique. She made it work, however.

Newly promoted Chief Warrant Officer 1 Mariah Willow was the lead armorer of the Cadre. Well, most of the time. Whenever that Tauren Ox showed up, everyone including herself deferred to him. That was fully understandable and she supported it. Ox had been the original armorer after all.

She had been the mastermind behind the Cadre 2.0 program. She was still working on improvements for it. She had a small design team that was also working on alternative ideas for the suits to use in combat.

One of the greatest strengths of the Cadre 2.0 program was that they could innovate new designs and send them via ansible to units in the field to implement. Field units could then generate the changes with their AI and nanites. Major changes could be altered permanently into the hardware or “baked.” Minor changes could be stored for later use. Alterations for mission specific scenarios could be stored in modules for on-call use. But of course they all needed to be tested first.

The same was actually happening in reverse; deployed Cadre units were sending feedback and adjustments back via the ansible to the armor, nanite, and software research and development teams. They then went through the data and changes and built virtual and then physical test models to see what worked and if they could refine it further.

A lot of the data coming in were rough and ready bug patches to address a specific problem. Usually it was mission related, such as in smoke or to deal with other environmental factors. The team was particularly looking forward to the heaps of data that would come in from the Cadre deployment within the pirate battle moon.

Well, the data that survived to get to them at any rate, Willow mused with a slight grimace as she passed a set of robots.

That was another thing that had been innovated, the partnership with robots. The Cadre now had two robots assigned to each suit minimum. Some could handle up to six smaller robots. They were still working on the level of autonomy in the units.

She nodded to the two mastiff-sized robot dogs on either side of the door as she went in.

She waited patiently as the yeoman dealt with a call.

“He’s on a call,” Peggy informed her. She indicated a seat on the HUD. Willow grimaced and took the seat. The Yeoman looked up to her and then nodded and went back to the call. She was using a hush mike so Willow couldn’t quite hear it.

She briefly toyed with the idea of testing her aural implant improvements but decided to keep her nose short.

“You think he’ll really go for this?” Peggy asked.

“What’s with the pessimistic approach?” Willow asked. She was only slightly nervous. They had a good pitch; the idea had been used in science fiction media for centuries. It had even made it into a few suits at different time periods. Unfortunately, the specific data on their use and why they fell out of favor had been lost to the ravages of time.

Willow had come up through the army’s powered armor units. She’d heard stories about how they’d gotten the jump start on powered armor courtesy of then Lance Corporal Jethro McClintock.

Jethro had just graduated with the legendary F Platoon. He had heard that the corps was struggling to get into the hardware and had remembered his family’s cache of suits including his own ancestor’s suit.

He had dug them out, and they had been refurbished and copied. At the time, not many had known that his suit was a Cadre suit and that he had been the descendant of a legendary Cadre member.

She smiled slightly. Some of the details were still sketchy but she’d picked up a few more over beers when she’d chatted with Ox a few times. Like the fact that Bast had been awoken in the armor and had caused havoc in Agnosta before being tamed and eventually brought to full sentience by Admiral Irons and his AI.

They had used Jethro’s armor and Bast as a template for the formation of the Cadre some years ago. Admiral Irons had authorized them to continue to innovate and to incorporate the little data that they had gathered from the Lemnos facility.

When she had come on board, she had been determined to make the Cadre the best it could be. A step beyond what they were. So far the jury was still out on if they’d achieved that lofty goal. They’d find out more when word got back to them about the battle moon … if it ever did.

Hopefully, she thought.

The battle was a suicide mission some whispered. She didn’t believe that. The Cadre took insane tasks, impossible missions, and broke then down into something they could win when others would fail. They’d make it, she thought firmly.

When they did get word, they were going to be swamped she mused. They had servers ready to process what came in … when it came in.

Dribs and drabs, she thought as her strong hands flexed on her knees slightly.

Most likely the data from the battle moon would have to be sent in packets at various ansibles or by courier. The wait for the full data would be excruciating in some ways.

They weren’t sitting on their thumbs while they waited, however. They had a bunch of proposals to sort through as well as some concepts to pitch in sims and test. She had been increasingly enamored with the idea of transformation. The suits with their nanites and hardware were polymorphic. They could adapt to any scenario. She wanted to capitalize further on that concept.

One of the techs had mentioned a foldable motorcycle called the Corgi. Apparently, Abe had seen it in a museum and it had stuck in his mind and caused a bit of inspiration. During the AI research that Peggy had initiated, they had found references to mecha that could transform into vehicles for rapid transit. Something called Mospedea. She had become fascinated with the concept which brought her to her current pitch.

“Ma’am?” she looked up. The yeoman indicated the door. “The general will see you now.”

She nodded and got up. She paused at the door to knock twice. The open command allowed her to open the door and come in.

“I’ve got twenty minutes, Willow,” General Lyon said as she came in and took a seat that he indicated. “I scanned your brief.”

“Briefly scanned the brief,” Mars said from the holographic projector on the desk. Peggy joined him there.

“Bite me,” the general growled. He turned to the dwarf. “Back it up a bit though. Corgi? You were inspired, not by the dog but by …?”

“Corgi. A motorcycle, really a scooter that folded up. It was dropped by planes for paratroopers during the second World War,” the dwarf explained.

Peggy helpfully put an image up of the thing.

“Okay, and this attaches to the suit?”

“No, sir, it inspired the project. From there we went into Mospedea which really inspired it.”

“Okay …?”

Peggy put up a few images and a 3D model and then animations.

The general watched them thoughtfully.

“What we were thinking was add on components or a program where the AI can initiate a change to grow the components of a motorcycle.”

“Sounds … interesting.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Various videos were shown of mecha and robots transforming into motorcycles. “We can combine the idea with the robots too as seen here. Build on the modular ability I mentioned earlier.”

General Lyon nodded thoughtfully.

“And you think this is faster than running?” he asked.

“Yes, sir!” Peggy said excitedly. She highlighted the speedometer on one image and showed it bobbing and weaving through traffic.

“Definitely on roads. We are still experimenting with off-road and indoors.” Willow hesitated. “The general idea is fast reaction to a battlefield and shock value. Hard and fast.”

General Lyon blinked and then nodded slowly. That was the essence of shock attacks. They could backfire, however, he knew. He also didn’t like the idea of moving through civilian traffic but he was a pragmatist. He knew such things happened in reality from time to time. As much as they’d like to avoid civilians, they did tend to get underfoot and clutter up a battlefield.

“Okay, I’ll authorize a single test. Check it out.”

Willow nodded. She felt smug. That was easy as expected. “Thank you, sir.”

“Not so fast. Try before you buy.”

“Sir?”

“Try it in VR first. Run simulations. In fact, run a lot of simulations as realistic as possible.”

Willow frowned. “I’m really a hands-on person, sir.” She was a maker; she generally left the coding side to her AI partner.

“Then find someone who can do the VR side and the testing. Run them through various scenarios and then see what comes out the other side. You are on a shoestring budget. I’m pulling a few credits from projects that completed early and under budget to finance this,” he warned.

Mars nodded from his spot on the general’s desk.

Willow thought fast. “We could probably build the thing for the cost of hiring a programming team and getting them through the necessary security clearances, sir.” She was hoping that would deter him. With AI and nanites, they could fab just about anything as long as they had raw material or meta materials.

Of course they had to have a basic design to copy first.

“We have AI for a lot of the coding as you know,” the general reminded her. Willow flushed slightly as Peggy quirked an eyebrow upward on her HUD. The dwarven armorer gave a slight grudging nod. “You could also involve Bagheera.”

Willow blinked. “Sir? He’s a civilian.”

“Who is on base and is an avid gamer. He doesn’t need to know what he’s testing. Just have Peggy or some of the other AI create a game mod. Design the basic unit and drop it in and then create various scenarios for him to try it out with.”

“I’ll create the scenarios,” Mars stated.

Willow blinked and then cocked her head. She didn’t like that Mars would create the scenarios but then again they would be tough but fair.

“That could work,” her AI stated. “We can look at game examples as well. We haven’t gotten beyond the sci-fi references in the pitch.”

“Good. Try that first,” the general stated.

Willow nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

<<(O)>>