Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5)

by Chris Hechtl

  “You made a hell of an impression on your first visit,” Amure said as the duo shook hands.

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “A good one. You scared some straight. Others left,” Amure said in approval. He took a sip of beer and then set it down.

  “So, who is here in the motel?” Jethro asked, looking from Amure to Cheetahra and then back again.

  “A few who washed out of the Marines. They are looking for work. A few shipped in, but their class doesn't start for a bit so they cool their heels here. We prefer them since the Navy pays their way, but the washouts have been souring a few. It is a problem,” Amure admitted. “A few of her highness's patients like you mentioned,” he said, motioning to Cheetahra with his beer. Jethro looked over to see the female look down and away but smile in embarrassment. “Plus one Neofox who wants to be a student of hers and a couple transients who work on the farms nearby as day workers. We've had some things go missing and some fights,” he said grimly. “The worst were from the washouts. They are bitter. Get any alcohol into them and watch out!” he said, clearly unhappy with the situation.

  “I see,” Jethro said darkly. He turned his head to look in the direction of the motel.

  “Don't blame them. They couldn't measure up. They'll figure something out … or end up as someone's rug,” Amure said pointedly, eying Cheetahra. She grimaced and flicked her ears but didn't disagree or agree.

  Jethro's ears flicked. He glanced over to the motel and saw a bear laying in a hammock nursing a beer. He gently swayed on the porch in the evening breeze.

  “Yeah, like I said, alcohol is a problem. A few tend to drown their sorrows, and I do mean drown. The law knows our address a bit too well these days,” Amure said ruefully. “And kicking them out is a pain; they have nowhere else to go except the bush.”

  “And I'd rather they stay here than go primal,” Cheetahra said.

  “Yeah,” Amure said with a sigh of agreement.

  Jethro recognized a well-worn argument when he heard one. “Slippery slope. Falling down the ladder rung by rung,” Jethro said softly. He took a sip of his own beer, looked at the bottle, then set it down.

  Amure saw his action and snorted, ears flicking in humor. “That last was from Kipling?”

  “I'm not sure,” Jethro said. “I think so,” he said slowly. He cocked his head as he tried to remember.

  Bast rolled her eyes. “Gentleman Ranker, Rudyard Kipling,” she projected on his HUD.

  “Yeah, Kipling,” he said with a nod.

  “So, you are a warrior poet. I never knew you had so many sides to you,” Amure said in amusement.

  “I'm not Scottish,” Jethro replied. Amure looked at him with confused eyes. It was the black cat's turn to flick his ears and tail in humor. “Ancient thing. Scots were considered warrior poets in their day. I read about it,” he said with a dismissive hand.

  “You read about it?” Cheetahra asked, wide-eyed as she popped her own beer bottle open. “When do you have time to read?” She took a sip, still eying the black cat to get answer.

  “Funny, when you are on a ship you can't do a whole hell of a lot. Time is certainly on your hands, and well, I hate paperwork,” Jethro admitted. That earned a wry sympathetic smile from both of the cheetahs. “So yeah, read, watch videos, stand watch, run SIMS … PT … You get the picture.”

  “Been there, done that,” Cheetahra said with a nod. “I prefer the wide open spaces,” she said, waving a hand to the grand vista around them.

  “Me too,” Amure replied in a husky voice, touching her hand, then taking it and turning to look at the setting sun.

  Jethro's eyes caught the look, and he too looked at the setting sun. But after a moment, he felt a little uncomfortable, like he was a third wheel so he rescued his beer and went for a walkabout to give the couple a little privacy.

  Technically, they were inbreeding he thought. They were what, second cousins? Third? He shook his head as he took a pull of beer. It didn't matter in the end, Cheetahra was a medic; she could engineer the cubs if she wanted to do so. She already had what, six? He looked around. He wasn't certain. It wasn't like he had bothered to count noses he reminded himself.

  He felt a bit lonely despite Bast's sympathetic presence. “Trust you to know what I'm feeling,” he said. She flicked her long ears. “Yeah, I miss Shanti and the kits,” he said. He took a pull of his beer. “A little more every damn day.” He inhaled and then exhaled in a rueful sigh. “It's only going to get worse before it gets better I suppose,” he grumbled.

  <)>^<)>/

  The following morning the cubs didn't let the adults sleep in for long. They were up at daybreak, rip-roaring, and ready to go. Jethro's implants handled the alcohol better than the natural cheetahs did so he got up and entertained the group. Fortunately for him, the older cubs knew the routine and giggled as they helpfully showed him how to deal with breakfast.

  He didn't burn anything and they only had a moderate mess to clean up so he considered it a win in his book when a sleepy Amure came out. “Coffee,” the cat said, making his way straight to the pot. He stretched and yawned again as he poured himself a cup.

  Jethro saw the yawn and show of teeth and looked away, amused. He flicked his ears to a couple of the cubs who were busy eating.

  “The smoke alarm didn't go off. Shocking,” Cheetahra drawled. He turned to see her leaning against the door.

  “Mommy!” one of the kittens said rushing to her.

  “What? I was only asleep,” she chuffed, eyes twinkling as she picked the brat up and cheek rubbed her. “Good morning to you too,” she said, tousling her head fur and rubbing her ears. “Did you eat breakfast?”

  The kitten turned and pointed a finger at Jethro accusingly. Cheetahra looked at him and then to her charge. “Was it edible?” she asked.

  “Hey! I may not have done breakfast on Anvil that often, but I remember how to pour cereal and cook eggs,” Jethro said mockingly. “It was Sergei who kept setting the fire alarm off. He kept scorching his fur,” he said.

  “Sure he did,” Cheetahra drawled as she set her charge back down on the floor. The kitten instantly clung to her and motioned to go back up. “Oh no you don't. Mommy wants some coffee and her own breakfast,” she said. The kitten wrapped herself including her tail around her mother's arm. Cheetahra wrestled with her for a bit, tickling her into a giggling fit before the kitten rolled up in a giggling ball. Cheetahra picked her up and tucked her under one arm against her hip. “Fine,” she sighed.

  She flicked her ears and smiled her thanks as Amur handed her a steaming cup of coffee. She took it and took an appreciative sip, then a second one before she sighed in contentment. “Here, think fast,” she said, passing the kitten to Jethro, practically ramming her into his tummy as she passed him.

  He oofed and instinctively caught the kitten. “What am … oof,” he said again as a small foot dug into his solar plexus, “ …to do …,” giggles erupted as he turned her over and over in his hands and tickled her, “with this?”

  “Just don't get too rambunctious with her so soon after she ate,” Amure warned. “I learned that lesson the hard way, believe me,” he said shaking his head.

  “Ah, gotcha,” Jethro said, toning down the wrestling match.

  Cheetahra picked up some sausage and ate one, then leaned against the counter as she made herself an egg McMuffin sandwich out of a pair of hand-sized tortillas, eggs, sausage, bacon, and a bit of ranch dressing.

  “I need to do the rounds here in a minute.”

  “You've got patients?” Jethro asked.

  “None critical or long term. More like hospice care. I check on them every six hours. They can generally care for themselves,” she said. Jethro nodded. “I'm glad you did this. Thanks,” she said, indicating the kids. “You'd think you'd had some practice,” she teased.

  “I have,” Jethro said shrugging as he started the cleanup. He was tempted to let Amure handle it, but since he'd made the mess, he figured he could
help clean it up. Well, he and the cubs had made it, he reminded himself.

  “Oh?”

  “I'm married,” Jethro said. “And I'm also a parent,” he explained.

  He heard a clatter and turned to see Cheetahra standing there still gaping at him with her cup on the counter. “Since when?” she finally accused, eyes flashing at him as she broke the spell. His tail thrashed behind her, practically smacking the kids around. When they started to bat at it, she settled it down and wrapped it around her waist to keep it out of the reach of dirty sticky paws.

  “Believe me, the parent thing came as a shock too,” Jethro said wryly, shaking his head as he scrubbed at something sticky on the counter. He had to use a claw to get the stuff off; the scrubber just didn't touch it. “I met Shanti on Kathy's World. She's … she's great,” he said, feeling a bit lame about saying that. “We had a brief but pretty intense courtship before I had to ship out to go to Protodon. When I got back to her planet, she had already given birth,” he said, shaking his head. He looked up to her. “I didn't know either. Surprise!” she said, shrugging again helplessly.

  “So, you're a dad,” she said, shaking her head, “and married ….” She scowled at him. “And you just now tell me?”

  “I didn't get a chance to talk about it last night. And …”

  “You didn't write, you didn't …,” she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

  “Hey, I didn't know about …,” Jethro counted and then pointed to the bundle of fur that was snuggled under one arm. “This one or …,” he started flicking fingers to the other cubs then to Amure.

  She followed the finger, then her ears went flat. “Okay, you made your point. But I couldn't write; I didn't know where to write to you! You just said you were all over creation!” she said, still cross with him.

  “Let it go,” Amure said, wrapping his arms around her. “We know now, right?”

  “Still,” she said, eying Jethro.

  “If you want to write to me, send emails, video messages, or whatever you can do it through the Marine system. I left you my email before, Cheetahra,” Jethro reminded her gently.

  “I've, um, been … busy,” she said lamely, indicating the cubs.

  “Yeah, I know. One of the things I wanted to do was pick your brain about them and well …,” he waved to indicate the house. “It's all new to me,” he admitted. “And I didn't like babysitting when I was younger. Now …,” he grimaced.

  She laughed and told him some stories as she ate his breakfast. He knew some were humorous, but others were intended to spook him. He did his best to just listen and nod at the right places. “Your mate will most likely never forgive you for missing out on your share of diaper duty you know,” she scolded, eying him severely.

  “Believe me, I know that,” Amure agreed as he made his own breakfast.

  Jethro rolled his eyes. “I know. There are four of them. She's also a cop, so it's rough there.” He didn't add that she'd recently lost her brother to combat and still had some lingering resentment for Jethro over his loss.

  “Get back there as often as you can. Get video, whatever you can. You're missing out on a lot too,” she warned.

  He huffed a sigh. “I know that too. But unfortunately …,” he waved his hand helplessly. She eyed him and then nodded slowly.

  “Where are you off to after this?” Amure asked.

  “That's part of my problem; I don't know,” Jethro said. The adults stared at him. “That's the fun thing about being in the military; you aren't a master of your fate like you are here,” he said, pointing his tail down to the floor. “I've started to regret it ever since I met Shanti and then the kittens on Protodon, and well …”

  “Kittens … so you've got more?” Cheetahra demanded. “Don't tell me you cheated on Shanti!”

  He shook his head. “I sort of adopted a couple of waifs, or they adopted me. I try to keep my distance a bit, but they got under my fur. When I left, it was rough.”

  “Oh,” Cheetahra said with a nod.

  “I can give you Shanti's email and address so you can talk to her,” Jethro offered.

  Cheetahra's eyes flashed. “You'd better,” she growled. That earned a chuffing chuckle from the men.

  <)>^<)>/

  Lieutenant Whitman finished the summary to wrap up the ONI investigation of the McClintock incident. He finished the last sentence with a flourish, hit save, and then hit spell-check to go over his work. Once McClintock was safely off planet, he would be someone else's problem. And that would be in another two days, he noted. Forty-seven hours, sixteen minutes, he noted more accurately.

  He was disappointed but not surprised that the Danvers family had upped and disappeared without a trace. The one spot of mixed news was that someone had tipped them off. So, there was a leak. Where and who he had no idea, though he had a narrow suspect list. Since he was on it, he had been forced to buck it up channels to wiser and cooler heads to untangle and sort through. He was too close to it he knew. So was Captain Smearof … who was also on the suspect list.

  “Damn, damn, double damn,” he muttered, wishing he could focus on the real enemy, not the ones running around stabbing them in the back.

  <)>^<)>/

  “I've got to go,” Jethro said as he loaded the truck early the third morning. It would take all day to return the truck and then fly back to the base he knew, which was why he was getting an early start. He was supposed to report back by midnight and wanted a little wiggle room.

  “I know. But don't be a stranger. Write too,” Cheetahra said, shaking a scolding finger under his nose before she wrapped her long arms around him for a hug. She cheek rubbed him. “And don't be a stranger,” she said.

  “I'll try not to be,” he said as a familiar tail hit his leg and then small hands grabbed his knee and legs. He reached down and grabbed up bundles of squealing and giggling cubs and kittens. “And I'll miss this lot too, even if they are exhausting,” he said.

  “Definitely,” Amure said as he came around the truck. “Thanks for the beer and supplies,” he said, shaking hands with Jethro.

  “No problem,” Jethro said. He passed the bundle of kids over to the adults and then had to dig one of the cubs out of the truck cab. Cheetahra counted noses and then checked under the truck before she dragged a kitten out from trying to climb into the engine compartment. “You'd get turned into mush if you stayed in there,” she scolded. “And now you need a bath,” she said turning her head away in disgust from the greasy brat.

  Jethro chuckled as he climbed into the cab and shut the door. “Enjoy,” he said.

  “Gee, don't you want to …,” Cheetahra stopped when he shook his head. “Spoilsport,” she growled mockingly. “Safe journey,” she said.

  “You too.”

  “I'm not going anywhere,” she said, indicating the house and grounds.

  “Aren't you? We each take our life journey in different ways,” Jethro said with an ear flick.

  “The Matriarch,” Amure quoted. He nodded. “Good point,” he said, putting one arm around his mate.

  “Take care,” Cheetahra said gruffly as Jethro started the truck. He waved to them as he turned the truck around and left in a rumble of dust and dirt.

  <)>^<)>/

  Colonel Harley noted a familiar black cat passing by her in a truck. Jethro wasn't involved with all that since he didn't have a permanent home. She watched as he went through the guard at the armory. She nodded slowly when she saw him come out with a loaded truck a few hours later. He had picked up his armor and escorted it to the spaceport she realized.

  “Safe sailing, Sergeant,” she texted to him. He turned, looking about him until he caught her staring at him. He stood at attention next to the truck and saluted her. She saluted back. “Not how it goes, Jethro,” she murmured to herself.

  She wished she'd gotten her hands on him and his armor. Hell, just him would have been nice; the armor would have been an extra cake all in itself she knew. But, if wishes were fish
es … she shook her head and turned back to her troops.

  <)>^<)>/

  Jethro rode the shuttle up to the station, but instead of going through the passenger section, he stuck with his armor and boarded the ship through security at the cargo port. “I thought I'd find you here,” Letanga said as he turned. Jethro flicked his ears. “All set?” Letanga asked. “Your baby put to bed?”

  “Yup,” Jethro said, patting the crates.

  “Cool. The usual safety drill is going to start once we're out of dock. After that, the boys and I were talking about a couple virtual matches. Cats against dogs,” Letanga said with a wicked twinkle. “You in?”

  “Oh, hell yeah,” Jethro replied smacking his hands together with glee. “This should be fun,” he said as Bast flicked her ears on his HUD.

  “Oh, definitely,” Letanga said. “The foxes are going to referee, and they'll take on the winner,” he said making Jethro hesitate. “And yeah, we're going to have to watch them almost as much as our opponents,” he said.

  “I …,” Jethro shook his head once, then paused, then a second time. “Okay, that's certainly twisted. But, okay, I'm in,” he said.

  Letanga snorted. “I thought you'd still be up for the challenge.”

  Chapter 10

  Destria

  General Ruffus Drier was pleased by the turn of events … even if they hadn't gotten the resistance they'd been expecting. So much the better he thought. He had his Nineteenth Division, a total of two fully-armed brigades, plus the native support in order to conquer the entire planet of Destria and its population of over 200 million people.

  He'd held their two transports in orbit for support until he'd been damn ready to release them. It hadn't been out of fear of a need to withdraw, far from it. The ships had been a secure vantage point and place to drop rocks or shuttle loads of troops as needed. Once his troops had a firm stranglehold grip on the planet's population centers, he'd allowed their gear to be off-loaded.

  That had been one of his second-most nervous points of the entire expedition to tell you the truth he thought to himself. It meant he was fully committed to not only taking the planet but also holding it. The miserable mudball didn't have much in the way of industry, so what he'd brought along with him might be all the ammunition and parts he would have on hand—at least until a relief expedition finally got off its ass and came calling to deliver supplies and pick up booty.