Recruiting Drive: Jethro 4 (Jethro Goes to War)

by Chris Hechtl

  “You are aware that trying to stare a cat down is rather difficult right, ma'am?” he asked mildly, ears erect.

  “Yeah, I'm seeing that,” she said, finally looking away. He snorted again. “They like to say I'm feisty. Frisky. I love a challenge. This wasn't quite what I had in mind though,” she admitted in a wry tone.

  “Thought you'd be somewhere recruiting, ma'am? Or sent to Antigua?”

  “Or some other Spirit forsaken outpost I suppose. Kathy's World is damn cold and pretty close to the front lines I heard—a little too close to comfort. And I also heard I won't be the senior officer.”

  “I've been busy with loading and such, ma'am. I haven't had a chance to do my homework,” Jethro admitted.

  “Yeah, I heard they yanked you pretty quick. I wasn't even aware you were coming until they sent up your armor.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Jethro's ears flicked.

  “You certainly don't travel light for a Marine.”

  “No, ma'am.”

  “But I'm glad you got your armor with you. Hopefully you won't need it, but if it comes in handy …,” she shrugged. He nodded.

  “So, for the moment, I want to get a handle on my command. But once we've gotten everyone settled in I want to go over the drills. Keep everyone from getting bored and into trouble.” Her eyes gleamed again. “And keep them from getting soft. I want a fighting force just in case we need it wherever we end up,” she said.

  “Aye aye, ma'am,” he replied happily, ears alert.

  “Good.” She picked up a stylus and pointed to the chair. “Sit. Let's get started.”

  Act II

  Chapter 11

  Jethro bonded with the squad over the weeks in transit. Captain Shelton ran a tight ship so there was no problem or conflicts with the crew. The Clydesdale would normally have plenty of room for the Marines, possibly even an entire platoon but logistics had packed her to the deck heads. More than one crew complained about having to shift mass about on the ship and how it slowed the ship down. The Marines were occasionally tapped to help too. They didn't mind heavy lifting but did mind doing the job with precious or no thanks for their sweaty efforts.

  Fortunately, the Marines were already trained so he could focus on integrating them into a finely meshed unit and then going from there.

  He broke them down into four man fire teams with two PFCs, a lance corporal, led by a corporal in the first two fire teams, Sergeant Tyler Farsea backstopping Lieutenant Queen with PFC Clarkson and the remaining Lance Corporals in the third, and Jethro, Lance Corporal Blue Eyes, and PFC Omri Vidal in the final fire team.

  He tried to keep the teams balanced though he'd ended up tucking the two other snipers in with him. If it fell in the crapper, he was fairly certain the three of them would be tasked with covering fire.

  Sergeant Farsea would be the lieutenant's heavy weapons expert while PFC Clarkson could handle the staffing in her HQ team.

  Corporal Drago Farnsworth was an MP so he had Ashe, a black bear PFC who had trained with heavy weapons and door busting. Drago was a wolf/husky/Alsatian mix so he looked the part of an MP. Ashe, on the other hand, was small for a bear and didn't seem to like being stuck hauling around the extra gear he had been assigned. He was constantly teased by the girls about his being their “chocolate pooh bear.” He seemed to take it in stride.

  Nearly a third of the squad had gone through boot and the advanced courses together so they knew each other well. Integrating them went smoothly. Getting them to work with the others took some time.

  They barely took note when the ships exited hyperspace in B-452c, crossed the star system, and then jumped for Kathy's World. The Marines were wrapped up in their own little world for the most part. Jethro had to put up with some grumbling from the team about being overworked and underappreciated. Ashe, Monique, Travis, and Tamera had been bitter when he'd worked them through an exercise and ignored the breaking out party the crew had put on.

  Tamera had made enough noise about it to attract the attention of some of the crew. Since she was a native of Agnosta like Omri and Dez, Tusinia, and Blue Eyes, the XO offered to throw them another party. Their complaints had lasted right up until they had found out about being lovingly smeared with grease and shoved down a dark tube to get “Neptune's pearls.” That had gotten the Neos to shut Tamera up hastily. They didn't quite come out and thank Jethro for sparing them, but the grumbling stopped instantly.

  Jethro had completely forgotten about that. He regretted it; they had worked hard and had come together well. But Lieutenant Chaing had challenged Lieutenant Queen to a series of virtual matches while they were in subspace. Lieutenant Queen had made it painfully clear she hadn't come all that way to lose.

  They'd won almost every engagement despite Lieutenant Chaing's bias in selecting the scenarios, ground, and even stacking the deck against them in later engagements. He hadn't been pleased about getting his clock cleaned by a junior officer either. Queen had been rather smug about the whole affair and had given the Marines two days off when they entered hyper as celebration.

  “You know he's going to want a rematch when we get to Kathy's World. Wanna bet he's busting their nuts now trying to train up to our level?” Tusinia asked with her curious lisp. She hated that she was a black and white sabretooth wolf mix. She had massive fangs that dropped down out of her mouth. She'd tried shaving them, but they continued to grow. It made eating in the mess painful to experience. She'd taken to eating when the others weren't around or skipping meals until Jethro had put a stop to that. Instead, he'd catered a bit to her by allowing her to take her food to a quiet place and eat it there.

  “Yeah, and no doubt he'll be stacking the deck against us,” Dez Tulip agreed with a grim nod of her own. Dez was a husky mutt, a mix of various breeds with a keen eye and an interest in becoming an MP. She was also a buddy of Tusinia, Drago, and Blue eyes. Apparently they'd formed some sort of “pack” in boot. Jethro could understand, but he'd broken them up into separate fire teams anyway.

  “Undoubtedly he will. So, we can't get sloppy and overconfident. We'll need to come up with some fresh tricks,” Lieutenant Queen said, eying them.

  “Got anything in the Recon bag, Gunny?” Blue eyes asked. The male arctic fox was a snow white with brown ears and tail tip. He could arrest you with just his eyes. He was pretty good as a sniper, but not quite up to Jethro's level.

  “A few things. It all depends on the battleground he chooses. That makes it hard to train for something. He knows what to train for, but we don't,” Jethro mused, rubbing his chin.

  “So he's cheating in a way,” Tyler grumbled.

  “If you're not cheating, you're not trying hard enough,” Jethro rumbled. He caught a few of the ear flicks from the Neos in the group. “We'll just have to keep training for every contingency. But I'd rather stress what we may encounter in real world conditions on Kathy's World or Protodon.”

  “He was a bit light there, wasn't he?”

  “Do you think we'll have time for many matches in Kathy's World, ma'am?” Corporal Irvine Pak asked. He was a shooter but had taken the basic courses for IEDs and demolitions.

  “I'm not sure,” she said. “Most likely best two out of three. I know he wants revenge,” she mused.

  “Too bad we couldn't submit our own scenarios,” Shaneka Blackfoot grumbled. The PFC was a white Dalmatian mutt with black paws and ears. She liked the other canines in the group, but they thought of her as too eager, too jumpy.

  “Or make it random. It sucks that he knows the terrain, knows the timing of everything.”

  “Then we'll just have to surprise him. He knows the book, so do we. We'll have to step out of it to keep him off balance,” Travis said, eying the gunny. “I noticed he was doing everything in his power to compensate for your advantages, Gunny. And he even banned you for the one round that we lost.”

  “True,” Queen said grudgingly, eying Jethro. She liked that she had an ace in the hole in Jethro; it would help later come review
and promotion time as long as Chaing didn't take his ire out of her hide. But she also knew where their winning streak really came from. Having a crutch like the panther was a two-edged sword. “I think we need to do some training with you out of the loop. Possibly running the op force, Gunny,” she said.

  Jethro flicked his ears and smiled slightly as the others groaned. “Yes, ma'am.”

  <(>~^~<(>

  When the convoy jumped into Kathy's World space, they were surprised to find a pair of Nelson class destroyers and two large freighters there on their way to the jump point. “Apparently Admiral White made good time. Set course for them. Com, raise them when you get the chance,” Captain D'lif'ther ordered.

  “We've flashed our IFF. No response so far,” the communication's officer stated.

  “Odd,” the Veraxin clacked in annoyance. “Perhaps their tachyon transceivers are down.”

  “They could be treating this as a drill, sir. We should too. Just in case,” the XO stated.

  “True, true,” the captain replied, signaling second level reluctant agreement.

  <(>~^~<(>

  “Are you seeing what I'm seeing?” Lieutenant Chaing asked over the Marine link.

  “The other ships? Yes. I'm not so sure they are friendly though,” Lieutenant Queen said slowly. “What do you think?”

  “I think our rematch is canceled. Pity, I had some sweet moves and an awesome scenario all worked out. Get our people up and locked and loaded.”

  “I don't know what it will serve, but aye aye, sir. We'll be hot in ten, sir.”

  “Make it five if possible. This could get ugly very fast. Too fast for my liking,” he said darkly. He didn't like the course they were on, how they were headed to a zero zero intercept with the unknown ships. But there wasn't anything he could do about it. Second guessing Captain D'lif'ther would be futile. It would distract him or get Chaing in hack for publicly second guessing a naval officer in his own element.

  “Frack,” the lieutenant muttered.

  <(>~^~<(>

  “Are they going to let us get within engagement range so easily?” Captain Fred Tion demanded, staring hungrily at the plot. The four warships would be tricky, but he was confident his Idiot's Array as well as Captain Kerinski's Wizard of Winter could handle them. What did concern him was what kind of damage they could inflict. They had to get in and pound them into wreckage before they realized what sort of mistake they'd walked into.

  “Fat, dumb, and happy.”

  “Sir, should we launch fighters? The freighters may get away,” the TACO asked carefully.

  “We'll have to take that risk. If we launch they'll figure out we're not one of theirs.”

  “Who the hell are they?”

  “We're jamming all transmissions from that corvette and freighter, right?” the captain asked. The communication's rating looked up and nodded. “Then whoever they are, they are in for a world of hurt. We'll sort out the rest when we're finished with them. If there is anything left.” He turned to the CIC rating. “Are the tenders holding back as instructed?”

  “Yes, sir. They are falling back steadily.”

  “Good. Once the engagement begins, they had better stick to the plan. We may not have time to deal with them,” he growled. They had seen through the rouse of the freighter that had been in orbit of the moon after Captain Kerinski had insisted on a stopover. He'd had a brother on the freighter, and when they hadn't put him on, he'd alerted Fred. Fred had been dubious, but he had picked up the shadow of the Apollo class corvette stooging around the star system by that time. One thing had led to another and they'd ended up chasing the two ships all over the star system. Both ships had kept out of reach for so long he'd burned through a quarter of his fuel. So much fuel he'd decided to abandon the chase.

  Captain Kerinski had insisted they attack the planet, but as senior officer Fred had overruled his desire for vengeance. The planet would keep for the moment. He'd led his forces to the B-452c jump point with the intention of completing their mission when this convoy had literally fallen into his lap. “Keep me appraised of their movements. Watch them closely, but don't go active,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir.”

  <(>~^~<(>

  “Sir, it has to be the enemy. Neither warship is in our war book. The only three Nelsons in our current inventory are Fuentes, Myoshi, and Dunatis, the rest haven't been completed yet, sir. The freighters are also not in our inventory. Their emissions don't match any of those ships. And they haven't signaled us.”

  “It has to be some sort of unscheduled exercise. The intel we have could be out of date.”

  “With the ansible, sir? Not that far out of date. Sir, we have to respond appropriately. Treat it as it is, a potential hostile engagement. We're sailing right into their engagement range.”

  “I'm not going to be responsible for a friendly fire incident. I just won't,” the captain clacked.

  “Sir, with all due respect,” the XO took a deep breath and then let it out slowly before he continued. “Sir, they are coming on as hostiles in territory we don't know is secure or not. The picket isn't reporting in to us. We have got to take action,” the XO said doggedly. “Before it's too late,” he almost pleaded.

  “Go to yellow alert, but don't go active. Keep a running plot. Any sign of fighters?” the captain asked.

  “No, sir,” the XO stated flatly. Tension filled the air; it buzzed about the room making the Veraxin's antenna twitch.

  “Fine then. Order Lisbon to edge out further. We'll see if she gets an active ping.”

  “Sir, you're hanging them out to dry. They'll be toast,” the XO protested.

  “Lose the attitude, Lieutenant. Helm, keep a course change running. A reciprocal course back to the jump point.”

  “It will take us further into their engagement range, sir. If we sidle to starboard, it will cut that threat time,” the helm officer reported after a moment.

  “Keep both on the plot. Give me a running time on when we have to change course and when we'll be in their outer engagement zone. Com,” he turned to the communication's rating. “Lay in a laser to the nearest Nelson and inquire about their intentions.”

  “Sir?”

  “No, better yet, I'll do it,” the Veraxin stated with a clack. He settled himself and then swiveled his eye stalks to the communication's rating. “Well?”

  “You're um, on, sir,” the rating stated, pointing to him.

  “This is Captain D'lif'ther of the Federation frigate Rose to unknown Nelson class destroyers. Please heave to, flash your IFF, and state your intentions or we will be forced to fire on you. Rose out.”

  “Good copy, sir,” the rating said after a quick playback.

  “Then send it.”

  <(>~^~<(>

  “… Or we will be forced to fire on you. Rose out.” The rating hit the stop button and looked expectantly at his captain.

  “That's a Veraxin voice and name. I'll bet my life on it,” the XO stated.

  “Federation? There is no Federation; we've been all over this and the surrounding sectors. It's gone,” the captain mused. “What is he playing at?”

  “Apparently the rumors of an Admiral Irons are true, sir,” the XO stated.

  The captain grunted. For the past six, no seven centuries Horath had sent out pirates and scavenging vessels to pick the star systems clean. They left some areas like Pyrax, Antigua, and Epsilon Triangula alone for various reasons up until recently. They had also largely ignored the planets until the turn of the past century.

  Rho sector had been largely picked over centuries ago. Star systems like Protodon had been picked clean by successive scavengers. That had forced them to move further and further outward to find prey and the salvage they sought. For the past century, most of their efforts had been in Sigma, Tau, and the other surrounding sectors. After all, that was where the real finds had been found.

  Many captains like Tion and Kerinski considered Rho their backyard. Their playground to toy with the natives
however they pleased. They'd looked forward to finally cleaning it up now that the next phase had begun and the Empire had been born.

  Recently, however, they'd heard intelligence that a sleeper had awoken; one that had salvaged some of his own navy vessels and to their disbelief had taken down a task force sent to conquer Pyrax. Intel was still tight on the details, but it was rumored that he had been in the process of building up a navy when he'd left the star system.

  Admiral Rico and Cartwright had been dispatched to conquer the territory between the homeworld and Pyrax. They were supposed to sweep across the sector knocking the star systems down one by one before taking on Pyrax from multiple jump points.

  “If all they've got are frigates and corvettes, they are so screwed,” the XO stated.

  “Don't be so sure of that. We don't know how well they can fight.”

  “If they'll fight. My money is on their folding the moment we open fire on them. If they survive,” the XO said with a sniff.

  “We'll see about that.”

  <(>~^~<(>

  “Sir, we're getting active emissions from one of the Nelsons. And there is this,” Petty Officer Third C lass James Bart said, turning to his skipper. He pointed to the image on his screen. Lieutenant Tom Hyuga came over and leaned over his shoulder. Wordlessly the petty officer boxed an area on the nearest Nelson and then zoomed in. As the video played back and the ship's flank turned from shadow and into the light, he could see the image of a card hand and a name in gold lettering. “Idiot's Array,” he murmured softly. But it was the gold winged symbol under the name that made his blood ran cold. “Freeze that!” he demanded. The rating stopped the image. “Now overlay the other screen grabs. Focus on the lettering and symbols. Build up an image.”

  The image scanned over and over, lines moved down as layer after layer filled in until he could see the HMSS Idiot's Array and the winged three-legged swastika of the Horathian Empire. “Com get me the flag. Tell them we're walking into a trap!” He said stepping back. “Battle Stations!” he snarled.