Jethro: First to Fight (13 page)

"Or something like it. We stick an
emitter on the back of the hand and um, forearm, maybe another on a thigh or
both thighs. Backup power somewhere. Then when you activate it..."

"It won't be on all the time?"
the bear rumbled.

"Course not, not built for it.
Manual activation, or computer. Not sure. Let me think here." he tapped a
spanner against the emitter. Leads sparked and dust blew out.

"Shit!" the emitter's led cut
out and there was a brief floating sensation. Parts, dirt and people bounced in
the air and then fell heavily to the deck as the system compensated.

"What are you doing in here?"
Firefly asked exasperated. "You realize you just shorted that emitter
right? You sent a voltage spike through half the deck!"

"Sorry Commander. We're running an
experiment," the armorer said sheepishly tugging on one ear. Jethro
snorted. He looked and probably felt like a kid caught trying to get an early
snack.

"Oh?" Firefly asked.
"Accessing log... uh huh... that is an interesting idea. I wonder why no
one has thought of it before?"

"Hair brain scheme that's likely to
blow up in your face maybe?" Valenko rumbled, flexing his bicep and testing
his hand grip.

"Checking the archives... hmmm.
Yes, it has been tried before. It's actually in the field manual dating back
about a century prior to the latest version. For some reason it was edited
out."

"Oh?" the armor asked looking
a little put out. "But not the current one?" the current manual was
actually seven centuries old. Well, it was being updated now as people learned
or re-learned how to operate equipment.

"That's because at the time
emitters were energy inefficient and the shields were good for one or two hits
and plasma or heavy mortars ate through it. Particle and other energy weapons
were deflected."

"They probably gave off a signal
too," Jethro said, trying to keep up.

"Correct."

"But it's a thought. Especially for
assaults," Valenko rumbled, pounding one fist into the other. “It's always
nice to have an extra ace in the hole the enemy isn't expecting. Shock and
awe.”

"True. I'll check with stores to
find the parts. If we have them I'll see if the Major is willing to authorize a
test," Firefly said.

"Thank you sir," Ox said with
a nod.

"Oh don't thank me, you just made
more work for yourselves.  You're going to be expected to make it work.
Which means a lot of work on your end. Studying, math, and physically putting
it together and fine tuning it. You'll work out the kinks once it's working,
and then field test it to find it's breaking points," Firefly said
maliciously. “I'm betting serious gravitational eddies and shorts along the edges
and when it interacts with other fields or impacts an object.”

The armorer groaned, hands over his eyes
but Jethro caught the twinkle of a challenge in his eye. He snorted, glancing
at the others as his ears flicking in humor.

"I think they can handle it. I'd like
to try it. I am getting some interesting ideas about this... The tactical
applications..." Valenko mussed. It looked like the challenge was getting
him out of his mood swings.

"...Are another thing to figure
out, good luck with that Ensign," Firefly said. "I'll put a bug in
store's ear. In fact I just did. I don't expect an e-mail back soon though.
Now, don't try to fix that or tinker with any more of my systems. I'll send a
tech to fix it later."

"Yes sir," the armorer said.
He shook his hand a little. The jolt had numbed his hand a bit.

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

Jethro sat in his rack, staring at his
in-box but not really processing it. There was the usual crap in there, with a
butt load of spam. Like a lot of Marines he was getting used to the need to filter
his electronic mail.

“What are you thinking about?” Fonz
asked, looking across to him.

“Huh?” Jethro grunted, flicking his
ears.

Fonz rolled over. “You've got like, a
thousand yard stare going. What's up?” he asked. “Oh wait, implants?”

“Yes, no, well...”

“Pick one,” Hurranna teased from above
him. He snorted. He'd let her take the higher bunk since she was light and
didn't move around a lot.

“I was thinking a bit about my armor,
and applying it's concepts to other armors.”

“Your armor? I saw part of it, I haven't
seen you fully suited though,” Fonz said. “I heard it's something else.”

“It is. It's got a lot of stuff I wish
other suits had, not just mine.”

“Gee, thanks,” Hurranna murmured. He
poked her rack making it bump.

“Out of the box thinking?” Sergei asked.
“How?”

“Well, we're all specialized, but we're
recon. Recon armor normally has adaptive camouflage. A bit better than what we
had on Agnosta.”

“Ah.”

They had standard issue camo uniforms,
but the uniforms were now in short supply. The adaptive camouflage built into
the fabric allowed it to interface with the user's implants to 'see' it's
environment so it could alter its pigmentation to better adapt to it. The
system was slow, but with the tiny heat transfer cells also built into the
uniform, totally self sufficient. It also did a very good job of hiding the
user's heat signature. As long as you moved slow, you were virtually
invisible... at least the parts that were covered by the fabric were.

The problem was, the admiral was gone
and they could no longer produce the fabric. Which was a problem, they were now
issued standard uniforms, and those who had camo had been ordered to keep it in
reserve. Standard uniforms had a hexagon digicam pattern that did it's best to
match whatever environment that it had been issued for. Ship uniforms, like the
ones they were currently wearing, were a mixture of grays and greens.

“Earth to Jethro...” Fonz said, waving a
hand. The hand moving in his peripheral vision more than the words broke him
out of his woolgathering.

“Sorry. Where was I?”

“Nodding off?” Sergei asked, standing at
the head of Fonz's rack, crossing his arms and leaning against it. The rack was
pretty secure, it had to be to handle his mass, not to mention any acceleration
changes that the ship's inertial dampening field didn't smooth out.

“No. I was, well, the camo we've got.”

“You mean you've got. I didn't get any,”
Fonz grumped. Sergei flicked his tail near the kid's face, making his flick it
irritably away. The cats flicked their ears in humor.

“Okay, the camo. Adaptive camo. If we
could find a way to produce some, I was wondering if we could, I dunno, apply
it to the armor of the other suits.”

“That's... interesting,” Hurranna
murmured. “It'd be baggy though. And how would you get around the power? I
mean, sure it can draw heat from the suit but...”

“I was thinking that or interface
directly to the suit's power train if necessary. I was wondering why the suit
takes so long to adapt, is it a software issue, hardware, low power, or what?”

“It doesn't matter, we don't have the
material, remember?”

“Yeah, but we can still pass it on,”
Sergei replied. “Stick it in the down the road list, something to try later if
we ever get the chance. The powers that be might like it.”

“True,” Hurranna said.

Sergei snorted. “For someone like me in
Raider armor, I'm too big. But for someone like you? Short little shit that you
are? I could see it.”

“Gee thanks,” Hurranna growled.

“Then again, you being the sneaky tiny
wench that you are, giving you a leg up isn't exactly appealing,” Sergei
replied dryly. “And if you were invisible you might get stepped on. Come to
think of it, we've got that problem with you visible anyway...” he mused with a
grin in his voice. The others laughed with him as Hurranna sputtered.

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

Nelson found the couple he'd been sent
to speak with right off. It was hard to miss Big Red, he was the largest human
in the tightly packed pub. Also the only one with curly red hair. His wife was
next to him, a bright eyed woman, a bit too fat for his tastes, but she had
clean black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and a lively eye. They were
both dressed in hand me down clothes, but that was to be expected.

He didn't like what his boss was doing,
and he especially didn't like sticking his own neck out to make it happen. But
sometimes you just had to do as you were told. This was one of those instances.
They'd tried talking through other contacts, but the Reds and the people they
represented wanted a face to face with someone higher up the chain of command.
Which was why he was here.

The Reds represented about 40 other
families, all with varying skills and all wanting more room to expand. They
were a particular nasty thorn in the side of Mayor Ralkin who was now in charge
of the colony. He couldn't just toss the Red's out, they were critically
important, or at least some of their supporters were. But he did want them
gone, so the governor had come up with this scheme to help things along.

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Nelson,” Mary
said as they rose. He shook hands with them and then sat in the chair across
from them. “So I see your friend was serious and not just blowing hot air.”

“Exactly so,” Nelson replied with a nod.
“We are on the level here.”

“And you say they've got dozens of these
stations?”

Nelson nodded. “Yes. All mothballed. No
one is inside.”

“Well! Don't that beat all. And why
aren't they letting us use em? Don't they know we're packed in here, cheek to
jowl?” Big Red demanded.

“They do, they just don't care. We do.
We've been trying to get them to turn a few of the stations over to people like
you. But unfortunately they are ignoring the governor's order. So, we consulted
our legal experts. They pointed out possession is nine tenths of the law when
it comes to the eyes of the media and public. In other words, salvage.”

“Salvage.”

“Sure,” Nelson smiled. “The navy opened
the door when they went around recovering ships all over the system. Salvage.
No one is using it, therefore it's fair game.”

“Salvage. And you said this will work?”

“It will work.”

“How are we going to get there again?
Run that part by me one more time.”

“Well, you know the old shuttle docked
here in Vesta?” Nelson asked, leaning forward, arms crossed on the table.

“Yeah,” Big Red said slowly, lowering
his voice and looking around. Nelson tried hard not to roll his eyes. The big
miner made a horrible conspirator. Just looking around like that was like
waving a sign 'here I am! Listen to what I'm saying! I'm up to something no
good! Besides, the man had horrible breath. But he was all they had, and also
the only pilot who might be able to pilot the shuttle. “She's dead. Been using
her as a booster and extra room for centuries,” Red said.

“Not anymore,” Nelson replied with a
smile. “We pulled some strings and got you some parts. Enough to fix her up.”

“I see,” Nelson replied. “Fuel?”

“All you need,” Nelson said, not being
able to take the breath anymore. He sat back, leaning back as if relaxing. “The
parts are on their way to the shuttle now.”

“How many can we take on her? A dozen?”

“She's a military drop shuttle. A half
platoon.”

“And that's what? Two dozen?” Mary
asked.

“Try fifty people. A hundred if it's
standing room only. Just line them up in their seats and lock them down. Carry
on in the overhead, under their seats, or in their laps.”

“And this thing will work,” Mary Red
demanded.

“You are the expert. You tell me.”

“I will. We're not going anywhere until
it checks out mister. I'm not risking my neck or the necks of my family on your
word or anyone's,” Big Red growled. His wife nodded in support.

“Fine then, go check it out, get her set
up. But I assure you it'll work,” Nelson replied.

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

Nelson nodded a day later as the Red's
entered the pub. He lounged back, watching as they put in orders at the bar for
a beer each and then came over. He couldn't see how they could drink that
swill, it had been filtered too many times, or maybe not enough. He didn't
care.

“Everything check out?” he asked
casually, looking around. No one was listening to them, all eyes were on the
game playing on the screen at the front of the bar.

“Yup, we're still getting things fixed
but she's checked out. Her engines are my main concern now,” Big Red rumbled.

“Will they go the distance?” Mary asked,
nodding as she turned away from her husband to their co-conspirator. Nelson was
a mousy man, skinny rat. She eyed him with suspicion. If the Governor was
backing them, she for one was leery of his support. He could easily cut them off
and leave them to die in space. From the look of him, Nelson wasn't happy
either, but he had a job to do.