Jethro Goes to War (Wandering Engineer Jethro's tale)

by Hechtl, Chris

  Jethro snorted a laugh. He shook his head. “Don't mind them. We grew up together.”

  “You... did?”

  “Yeah. We're from Leo's pride. It's, well it was a corridor gang. Now I'm not sure what it is. I think all the cat clans have unified.”

  “Yeah. Last time I heard,” Hurranna nodded. She looked at one of the girls. “You want to be a marine?”

  “Why not? If you can do it I can!” she said, chin high.

  “Didn't say you couldn't. You need to be an adult first. Or at least near adult.”

  “I'm twelve.”

  “Well, as human's go, that still too young. You'll have to wait until you’re at least sixteen or eighteen.”

  “Awww...” Some of the kids said, scuffing their feet against the floor.

  “Yeah, but there is other stuff you can do in the mean time. Like join ROTC. That way you can become an officer.”

  “Is that what...” Hurranna shook her head. The girls eyes fell. “Oh.”

  “No worries,” Hurranna said softly. “We'll get there anyway. We didn't have ROTC. We had mama Matriarch and her training to keep us straight.”

  “Um...” the girl's face was screwed up in confusion.

  “She's the leader of the cat clans,” Jethro explained. “She kept all of us out of trouble. See, we, our families were a corridor gang. That means we protected an area, and the people who lived there gave us food and creds in return.” The kids nodded, understanding that at least.

  “Yeah, you could put it that way,” Sergei said softly.

  “I just did,” Jethro said giving the Liger a warning look then returning his attention to the kids. “But us kids grew up learning stuff together. Mama Matriarch taught us how to read and write, how to do math and other things. She had us do chores to keep us busy and out of mischief, though we didn't see it that way until later.”

  “Much later,” Sergei sniffed.

  “It helped the community out though. We kept our area clean, emptied the trash, ran errands for people, ran messages, stuff like that. It helped make things more bearable.”

  “Oh,” the girl nodded. “And cleaner.”

  “Yeah. Though carrying trash to the nearest working chute was a pain,” Sergei grimaced. “I usually got stuck with it cause I was the biggest and strongest.”

  “Typical,” a boy snorted. “And the girls hate the smell. I know the feeling.”

  “Yeah, but we got other chores. I had to clean the floors,” Hurranna answered. “And believe me, I hated getting my fur wet.” She sniffed in disdain at the memory.

  “Yeah, but you put up with the mud and water in boot,” Sergei teased, chuckling. His ears were all the way forward.

  Hurranna's twitched back and forth in their version of a shrug and then she chuckled herself. “Like I had a choice?” she asked.

  “So, you ah, serve on ships. Do you do other things?” the oldest boy asked.

  “We go over to secure the... wait, don't I know you?” Jethro demanded. He took a sniff. “Yeah, the kids in the bar. You and you.” He pointed to a pair of taller kids in the back and the pig tailed girl.

  “Yeah. Guilty.” They stood straight, looking guilty. One put his hand behind his head self consciously.

  “A little young to be in a bar,” Hurranna said eying them.

  “We weren't drinking,” the kid said. “Honest.”

  “Okay,” she shrugged. “Not my problem anyway,” she grimaced. “Yeah, we board ships to take control of them, or space stations, or colonies. We also ride in shuttles or drop pods down to the surface of a world to secure it.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, if the pirates took it over... we need to take it back,” Jethro said slowly.

  “Or if some whack job goes nuts, we may be called in to set thing straight,” Hurranna added. He gave her a look and then nodded.

  “Okay. Have you done that yet?”

  “Give us a break kid, we just got out of boot,” Sergei laughed. “Kids these days, eager to get shot at right away,” he shook his head chuckling.

  “We're still learning like you. I've got recon training coming up. And vehicles and then armored suit straining.”

  “Exo suits? WOW!”

  “YEAH!” The kid next to him cheered grinning. Jethro tried not to bristle at the show of teeth. Humans. “SWEET! Just like in the movies!”

  “Oh wow! That'd be spar!” one kid said to another. They cocked their hands like blasters then started making blaster noises till the girls shushed them.

  “Yeah cool. Something like it,” Jethro said, trying to be as deadpan as gunny.

  “You know you want it. Admit it. You've wanted to do it since you were a kit,” Hurranna said, smiling at him. He ducked his head, ears flat out feeling intense embarrassment.

  “Yeah, but now I know how serious it is, how lives are riding on the line; and if we screw up...”

  “So don't,” she replied. He gave her a look. “Seriously. Don't screw up, it'll probably be my ass that's on the line,” she growled. He snorted. “I'll kick your ass if you do. Your ass is low enough for me to reach.” She shot a mock glower at the Liger. “Unlike some peoples I wont mention.”

  “Letch,” Sergei said with an amused ear flick.

  “What about you?” the little girl asked as her group settled down.

  Hurranna blinked. “Me? Um,” she squirmed a little. “I'm trying to get into flight ops training but there is a waiting list. A looong, looong waiting list.” She groaned softly.

  “Oh. That stinks,” the girl said in sympathy.

  “Wait, I thought soldiers...” the oldest boy started to say, confused.

  “We also have our own pilots. To fly our shuttles, and give us air or space support,” Hurranna said curtly. “Which is what I want to do.”

  “Yeah, you're kind of puny to be running around on the ground.” one of the bigger kids said.

  “Wanna make something of it?” the lynx growled, eyes slitting. Her claws flexed.

  “Um, no,” he said gulping and slowly backing away.

  “Don't tick them off,” the girl whispered into his ear.

  “I'm trying not to but they are prickly!” he whispered back. Sergei snorted. They turned to him. “What about you?” the boy asked.

  “Me? I want to blow stuff up.” The kids grinned at that. “So I'm trying to get into the demolitions. But I just found out that's the corps. of engineers,” he grimaced. “Not my cup of tea. All the math and crap. Building stuff. Rather blow it up any day. Build a bridge... what's the fun in that?”

  “To practice blowing it up?” Hurranna asked.

  “Zip it,” Sergei growled. He sat back with a sigh. “Seriously. I'm not into the whole class room thing.”

  “Me neither,” a kid said. “I mean, I can do some of it, but tests always freak me out.”

  “Yeah,” Sergei shuddered in sympathy. “We've just had a sampling of that kind of crap. Pass. I'll see what I can do. Maybe an entry man for SWAT or something. Hostage rescue. Or the suits. I do like them.”

  “Like they'll have one in your size,” Jethro teased.

  “They'd better,” Sergei retorted. “Or I ain't leaving the armory till they get one.” The others chuckled a little at that.

  “Morgue, it's called a... oh never mind,” Jethro shook his head.

  “What ever. I may join you there. It's not like I've got anything else to do,” Hurranna sighed. There was a waiting list a mile long to get into flight training. The sims were booked for weeks at a time. Officers and navy personnel were getting priority.

  “Thanks,” the girl said. They turned back to the kids. Most were moving away. One had a skateboard out and was already rolling off. Another kid was on skates, she held onto the back of his belt buckle as they got going.

  “No problem. Check it out like we said. Later,” Hurranna said waving.

  Chapter 13

  Ox looked around at the chamber. It was a little cramped for him, but most likely large
for other species. As inflatable modules go though, it was nice.

  Things were still in turmoil. They'd had a week off to visit family after graduation, and then it was back on duty. In that time, he and the others had found, things had changed.

  “Welcome to the Annex,” Firefly said from the front of the room. “This station is currently called the Annex since it is a late addition. We were forced to withdraw the housing and training modules from Anvil and they and their contents needed a new home. Hence the Annex.”

  A holo of the station appeared. “We are currently working on the station, so be aware some areas are off limits.” Areas on the station were highlighted with yellow and black stripes. “Other areas are off limits to unauthorized personnel.” A few more areas were highlighted, this time in red.

  “Each of you have this map in your e-mail for download to your implant software. Check it out and familiarize yourself with the station layout and emergency procedures,” the AI looked around for a moment.

  “Classes in engineering will commence with Chief Yellow Knife at oh eight thirty tomorrow morning. Your assigned quarters are also in your HUD inbox. Please be careful near the station walls.” The avatar turned to Ox who nodded.

  “The last thing we need is for one of my horns or spikes to pop something. Agreed Commander.”

  “I'm glad you understand.” A few around the Tauren looked at him with a little trepidation. He snorted softly.

  “Dismissed. Chow is at the usual time in the mess hall.” The AI's avatar faded and then winked out. Ox shouldered his bag as he accessed his map. It was time to see if they actually had a rack his size.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jethro nodded to his cousin, the leopard Letanga and then to the arctic fox Shiku. “I kind of figured you two would be here,” he said with an ear flick.

  “Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Letanga said shaking his head. He nodded to Shiku and then to an all black wolf named Tungulria. The black wolf was supposed to be in the same grade as Jethro it was rumored. He was curious and looking forward to finding out one way or another. He was seriously curious. Cats were the only ones with cloaking abilities. Or at least that was what the clan said. Then again considering that datum came from rumors passed on by cats, it was questionable.

  “Why you're here is what I'm wondering. I was half expecting you to be teaching this,” Letanga continued. He looked around. There were twenty other students in the group. Eighteen were stock humans.

  “Nope. Gotta learn to crawl before you can walk,” Jethro replied sensing someone coming.

  “All right you lot listen up,” Sergeant Jefferson said coming in and standing at the podium as they shot to their feet. “I'm your instructor. For those of you who don't know me, I'm a qualified sniper. I was also a DI and up until yesterday morning, an E-4 corporal. You are about to get a two and a half week course on sniper, spotter, and sneak and peek ops. A few of you know some of this already. I ask that you set your knowledge aside and try to pay attention. You’re going to be using different tools and techniques than you’re used to.”

  He looked around and locked eyes on Jethro. “Lance Corporal Jethro over there will be my teaching assistant. He's the sneak specialist here.” Jethro endured the glances his way. “I've checked each of your records and I'm certain not one of you can outdo him. Ever,” he scowled. Jethro fought to keep his face from grimacing himself. He knew damn well the rest of the class was either going to think of him as a kiss ass or were going to do everything in their power to show him up. Probably both. Which meant he was going to have to be on his toes and do his damnedest. No coasting.

  “This course will be a mix of hands on, field, sims, and class work, with a bit of sleep teaching thrown in for good measure. Unfortunately the field work will be limited to practice sneaks on a warship, in VR, or in designated areas,” he grimaced at the soft groans the class gave off.

  “Sorry people, but we pissed way to many people off with that graduating exercise. We might sneak you into park if we can. For now, do the best you can with what we've got.”

  “Now, we're going to take a pop quiz...” The group quietly groaned again at that. “To assess your skill sets,” he said over the groans. “Once I know who's who I'll pair you up, those that know and those that don't. That way you can pass on the necessary skills. You'll find a file in your HUD... He tapped a button on the podium. “Now. Get on it,” he paused momentarily. “Oh and corporal Jethro, no cloak. I was told you need to minimize the usage so it's a good idea for you to learn how to get along without it until you absolutely have to use it.”

  Jethro nodded at that. It wasn't like he could walk or run far in cloak. It was good for brief bursts of a few minutes or so and left him winded afterward. He was looking forward to trying to expand it's duration however. “Yes sir.”

  “Lets rock.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The grizzly sniffed as he looked at his fellow class mates. There were eleven in all, ten were human. The last one was a genie, a mutt from the look of him.

  “Welcome all,” the instructor said. The class goggled at the sight of Firefly's avatar. “I'm going to be your instructor for this course. If you’re wondering, you are going to be doing a lot more intellectual work instead of psychical.”

  The AI waited until the class settled into the seats. “There are twelve of you in this class. Most are from the recently graduated boot camp. Congratulations. You are here because you've shown leadership qualities we need and you were recommended by your drill sergeant.”

  The bear grimaced. He had hoped that one of his team would have made it in. Jethro had shown leadership skills. Apparently he'd leapt on something else leaning to his recon specialty.

  “Despite the recent ROTC graduates there are currently three marine officers. The Major and two lieutenants. The Major started as a captain. He had prior service before entering the corps and had extensive leadership qualifications. As you know the tradition of only one captain on a ship made the captain frocked to the honorary rank of major. After proving himself in combat boarding actions during the pirate attack the Admiral made the honorary position permanent with a battlefield promotion,” Firefly looked around as they digested that then nodded.

  “There are fourteen noncoms at or above the rank of sergeant. The remainder of the corps is made up of mostly newly enlisted. The first class as we call it is made up of fifty two people in total. With the new graduates the marines have swelled their numbers nearly six fold.”

  “Which mean's we've got a lot of Indians and not enough chiefs as you humans would say. Which brings us to why you are here.”

  “In the next six weeks we are going to be training and as you organics would put it, stuffing your brains with as much information as we can. Each night you will be given sleep instruction on top of what you get during the day.”

  A few people groaned at that. Sleep teaching on top of book learning was hell. It left them feeling sluggish and unfocused.

  “Be prepared, some of your classes will be with navy midshipmen if the general thrust of the class is in synch with each branch of service. However due to the different nature of each of the branches most of your training will be separate.”

  “You will also be doing a great deal of sim training. Tactical and strategic sims to assess and develop your skills. Some of you will do excellently in one or the other category. Those of you who can do well in both and the other skills we will help you develop, will go far.”

  “Some of you will be excellent small team leaders. Others will only come into your own in larger more abstract battlefield sims. Unfortunately we don't have a call for such at this time, but your skills will be noted in your files.”

  The grizzly grimaced at that. He'd played some strategy games, but he preferred the first person shooter and squad level games in his off time over the real time strategy.

  “You will also learn about the importance of logistics, and how it can determine the course of
a battle. Don't expect it to be just an instant fill response. The sims will have scaled real world responses to logistics,” the AI studied the class.

  “You will also learn about the fog of war and how it effects the coordination of units. Communication skills will need to be worked on. You each have strengths and weaknesses that will need to be assessed.”

  “You'll see what we mean as we get into the class. Shall we begin?”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Sergei nodded politely to the gorilla and a couple other faces he recognized.

  “This is going to be fun,” Ox said smiling. He was taking this class in the afternoon. Sergei was taking a mortar class in the morning but it was mostly sims.

  “Hell yeah. Blow stuff up and break things. What's not to like?” Sergei asked.

  “All right class, we've got a lot of ground to cover and not a whole hell of a lot of time to do it in. I'm your instructor.” Sergei tried not to grimace as Brenet, now an E-5 sergeant came into the room. “For those of you that were hoping to break stuff literally you’re in for a disappointing couple of weeks. We're only breaking things virtually. For some reason people get a little ticked if we do that indoors for real. Since we're all inside a station, that'd be a bad thing anyway.” He shook his head.

  Sergei's grimace took on an even darker sour look. “Quit pouting,” Ox sighed beside him. “It'll work out. Maybe we can go outside and blow something up.”

  “I see a few familiar faces here. Good. You are here because you either showed an aptitude with heavy weapons and tactics, or an interest. Or you were recommended. Either way you're my headache for the next three weeks. Let’s get this ball rolling.” Brenet motioned them to sit at the tables.

  “In a moment you’re going to work on taking apart and putting back together a heavy rail gun. I expect each of you to study the manuals on your off time and do some sims when you can. However this is a hands on exercise to get you used to the weapon. You're going to build what we call muscle memory. After a day you’re going to know this weapon inside and out and be able to do this blindfolded.” He grinned as a few groaned.