Camp Wilson

Marine Corps Space-Air-Ground Combat Center (MCSAGCC)

29 Palms California, United Americas

1705 14JUN2184

Camp Wilson has been the base for units conducting training on the vast ranges of 29 Palms for over two centuries. The Combined Arms Exercises, known as CAX, are conducted year-round by active duty and reserves, keeping Camp Wilson in near constant use. Uncounted numbers of marines along with co-training navy, army, aerospace forces and allies have called this collection of temporary buildings and tents home. Through the years the facilities have been updated but would still be described as primitive; a twentieth century marine would have no problem recognizing the camp and getting around in it.

The M-577 APC moved at a walking pace to avoid raising dust as it arrived at the Tactical Operations Center of the Marine Air-Ground Task Force. Keo and Tucker disembarked and sent the platoon onwards to put away the vehicle and perform the maintenance necessary after a field exercise. Felicia smiled inwardly as she returned the salutes of the TOC guards; Lieutenant Colonel Anderson always ran a tight headquarters, acting as if it was in a hostile zone. Guards were always posted and she knew inside all of the staff would be in combat armor. If they were not actually wearing helmets and full battle gear, they would be within arms reach of their rifles. The interior would be air-conditioned but that was for the optimum functioning of the electronics used to run a marine regiment on the 22nd Century battlefield, not for the comfort of the operators. In her opinion it was unfortunate that many officers, especially newer ones, did not take training as seriously and were more relaxed in 'rear' areas.

Stepping inside it took a moment for their eyes to adjust from the harsh desert sun to the dim interior of the TOC. During those seconds, their ears took in the sounds of a busy headquarters. Staff officers looking over status boards, holding quiet discussions about how the operation was proceeding verses how it had been expected to proceed, and what changes would have to be made to events that had not yet occurred. NCOs issued updates to the boards the officers were using to keep the most up to date information available. Also, they gave orders to runners who would track down everything from missing reports to what time chow trays can be picked up for those to busy to leave to eat. Behind all of that were the sounds of commo operators manning the many radios and computers passing and receiving information from the combat and support units in the field. The biggest difference between this exercise and one that actually involved combat was the level of chaos; it would be even more hectic were the Task Force actually involved in combat.

The voice of the Sergeant Major boomed over all other sounds, "ATTENTION ON DECK!"

Lt. Keo jumped despite herself as everyone stood to attention, the only sounds now coming from the radio speakers. She looked to the barrel-chested senior NCO of the regiment. "Sergeant Major please, carry on, it is not necessary to stop for me." Sergeant-Major Ramierez made eye contact to acknowledge her while at the same time encompassing everyone else in the area. His slightest nod released all, from the greenest private to the Lt. Colonel himself, from their self-imposed paralysis.

"Felicia," Lt. Colonel Anderson's voice was the first to be heard, "Staff Sergeant Tucker, so good of you to come so quickly. Come on over to my desk, I have some cold things to drink, unfortunately no beer. Some fool made this a dry camp until the exercise is complete." He laughed knowing it was his own order that did so. The commander of the 4th Marine Regiment fit the description of a stereotypical Mid-Western farmer. Over six-foot and solidly built he had light hair and a fair complexion inherited from his Scandinavian ancestors. A reserved man by nature, growing up on a farm taught him how to endure nearly any hardship. He was widely known for never asking of his marines that which he would not do himself, therefore he and his staff were battle ready, wearing the same body armor as the recon marines. A black leather glove covered his left hand. It was an open secret that he lost most of his arm during a conflict several years ago. He now had a cybernetic replacement that was of questionable legality. The glove and his uniform concealed the metallic arm, making everyone including the Corps itself blind to his new limb.

The four marines filed into Anderson's office. A small room just off the main, it already contained a desk, some chairs, filing cabinets, a little used cot and a wall sized data display showing the status of all units on the CAX. The Lieutenant Colonel's gear was neatly arranged but the rest of the area was a chaotic mess of papers and data cards. It took some rearranging to find a place for everyone to sit.

Ramirez spoke first, "Glad to see you weathered the nuke pretty well."

"Yeah," Tucker replied, "I mean that was a serious What-the-Fuck, over."

"What the Staff Sergeant is saying is that we don't remember anything about nukes in the pre-op brief."

"It wasn't in there." Ramirez answered, "It was added after you went out into the field. I'm afraid word didn't catch up in time."

Anderson handed out cold sodas to keep tempers down. "It will all work out in our favor. You get to come out early and I can prep you for deployment. A little bird told me about a mission that you are going to be tasked with. There will be a full briefing coming down; I wanted to give you a heads up."

"Are we going to get a juicy op in Hawaii, sir? I haven't been home in a while and wouldn't mind getting in some beach time."

"Not likely Felicia," Anderson laughed. "No it seems that a colony has come out of hiding. It apparently was owned by a corporation that folded leaving it ownerless."

"Wouldn't it have gone into receivership and been overseen by the ICC."

"Somehow it was missed in an asset review."

Tucker was incredulous, "How do you loose a fucking planet?" Keo scowled at him. "Sorry for the language sir." Anderson nodded acknowledgment. "So who owns it then?"

"The ownership is tried up right now." The Sergeant Major answered. "It has been in closed ICC arbitration for over a year between at least one corporation and the colonists who were left behind by the founding corp. They have now opened the doors and the ICC is sending a high official out there to wrap it up personally."

Keo cut in, "Your pardon Sergeant Major, but didn't the Commandant come out with a directive after the Archeron incident that USCMC forces will no longer be placed under the authority of the ICC?"

"Ma'am, are you referring to the Hadley's Hope incident or the quarantine operation when you threatened to shoot down the ICC shuttle?" Ramierez asked.

"Either one Sergeant-Major, either one."

"Your memory is correct Lieutenant," Anderson continued, "you will not be under the ICC authority; your mission is to protect the Americas' citizens and other non-combatants. You will however, make sure all parties follow the directives of the official."

"So it will be a civil affairs op? Why us then? It would make more sense to be sending a CAG unit or MPs. They are better trained for this than recon."

"It will be in part civil affairs but there is a larger issue here. It seems last month that there may have been a bio-weapons attack."

Keo's eyes opened wide, "May have?"

"It was reported by the local administrator but has not been confirmed. Apparently someone attempted to introduce an agent into the main colony's water supply. You need to find out what did happen. Your civilian attachments will be crucial. They need to determine what, if any, agent was used and was it deliberate or accidental. If deliberate, your marines are to track down and arrest the perpetrators."

"That's ugly sir. What's the political-military situation?"

"We know there are two or three corporations represented on planet, maybe more, and at least one has a mercenary security force. There is also a government elected by the colonists which has no formal recognition that I am aware of."

Keo leaned forward, looking at the Lieutenant Colonel and Sergeant-Major, "This is a joke right?"

Both Anderson and Ramierez shook their heads. She fell back in exasperation, "Two or three corporations, a mercenary force and an illegitimate civilian government; wow, did you buy me dinner or anything?"

They looked questioningly, "Well normally I expect to get a little something to warm me up before I get fucked."

Anderson started laughing and to look for something in his desk drawer. Ramierez kept a straight face while Tucker now scowled at his commander. Keo looked back and shrugged her shoulders, "I'm an officer, and I can curse when I want to." She said petulantly.

The Lieutenant Colonel found what he was looking for and tossed it on his desk, "Here Felicia, will this do?"

She picked up the plastic box; it was an Edible Ration, Field. The ERFs were uniformly reviled by all that ate them. "Meat Loaf and Gravy? Sir, you sure know how to treat a lady."

At that point the all four marines could contain themselves no longer and shared a hearty laugh. It was not the first, nor would it be the last, time they had been tasked with too large of a mission and given too few assets. "OK, Colonel," Keo pulled herself back under control, "what's in the debit column."

"Not enough I'm afraid. You will get another four bodies to bring you up to strength. Also your transport, U.S.S. Davis, will stay with you. She will provide medical technical and supply support"

"I don't know that ship, sir."

"You wouldn't. It is a refit of an old Bigelow-class destroyer to a multi-role transport. It has troop bays and lab facilities added; supposed to be fast as well so you won't waste time in the freezers much."

Tucker held up a finger to signal he had a question; Anderson waived for him to speak, "Colonel, who is overall command of this op?"

"This is the really good part. Lieutenant Keo is."

Keo cut in with a throaty, "Oh yes, baby, do me good."

"Lieutenant, you are incorrigible." Anderson couldn't help another grin. "I have full faith in you and your marines. Your reporting command and additional support will be the 21st Marine Assault Unit. I believe that is 2/6 is on the MAU right now; Major Neal, Lieutenant Colonel select, has the reins. Any other questions I probably can't answer right now?" After the two recon marines indicated no, he asked, "Is there anything I can do to help you out before lift?"

"I told my people I would ask about libbo tonight."

"The Davis won't be ready for loading until 0600 on the 18th. How about if we use tonight to prep for lift and I give you all seventy-two hour pass starting tomorrow morning; assuming everything is set so the Support Battalion can put your gear in orbit tomorrow."

"I think I can sell that one sir, thank you."

"If there are no more questions, you are dismissed."

Shortly thereafter, Tucker and Keo were walking across the sand to the platoon's quarters. "Mojo, give me the straight scoop, what do you think?"

"I believe you had the right assessment in there. There is a big green weenie getting ready to fuck us hard."

"Part of the job Staff Sergeant."

"I know LT, 'You don't have to like it, you just have to do it'." He quoted an old warrior saying. "On the other hand, a few days in Palm Springs or Vegas makes up for a lot of weenie. Will you come with us?"

"No, I don't think so," she said thoughtfully. "There's a few things here on base I would like to do before leaving."

He looked down at hid commander, "So I can find you in Lieutenant Burczyk's area then?"

Keo's expression darkened, "I'm not sure what you are saying."

Tucker stopped and looked her in the face, "Felicia, we've been together for what, over a year now? And in at least half a dozen fights. Do you really think you have secrets I don't know about?"

Several seconds passed as she returned the look. "I would like to think so."

"You probably do, but this isn't one of them. Don't worry," he assured her, "it's nobody else's business but yours. I just want to know where to reach you if there is an emergency."

"I would say then that would be a place to send a message."

They began walking again. "I'll get commitments from our people so you will know where everyone will be. Maybe the Lieutenant Burczyk can get off base for a day or two also; you don't want to accidentally bump into anybody when you are off duty."

Keo seemed to be in a funk so Tucker gave her a friendly elbow, "Cheer up ma'am, it was actually Fang who caught on." She looked up, shocked; Tucker kept speaking, "I had to about twist his balls off to get a hint of it; that is one tight lipped bastard."

"How did you know he knew anything?"

"He was smiling"

Felicia snorted, "So who else is in on the Lieutenant Keouakuahu'ula's Personal Life Fan Club?"

"Spyder probably, the gunners are close. Maybe some others have found out; everyone will eventually."

She glared at her subordinate who just smiled, "We are recon after all."