Jethro: First to Fight

by Hechtl, Chris

  Jethro couldn't help it, he flicked his ears in humor. “Another day and then they'll pop the cork and then they can wring you out,” Jethro replied, teasing. “I wonder if you lost weight?” he asked.

  “Probably. Hospital food sucks,” the bear grumbled. “Go on, go chase Gunny around for something light to do. Light. I plan on kicking your ass myself when I'm out of here,” he grumbled.

  “Me? What'd I do?”

  “You are looking disgustingly healthy and I'm in a mood. Now get.”

  “Remind me to have Sergei pick you up when they let you loose,” Jethro replied. He waved. The bear waved weakly back.

  He caught the evening shuttle back to Firefly. Morose, thinking about the bear, how a centimeter lower and the plasma would have cooked his brain and there would have been nothing left of him but meat. “Just lucky I guess,” he muttered, sitting back and closing his eyes. “Some luck.”

  “You say something?” a Marine Private asked.

  “No, not to you,” Jethro said, not cracking an eyelid. He heard a snort. After a moment he relaxed and let the hum of the machinery lull him into a doze until they docked.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Alan Nelson frowned, knowing his boss was going to be stubborn about the agenda coming up. He watched him adjust his tie in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. He stood there dutifully as the man turned and adjusted his vest and then waved the steward off with the jacket. “Not now,” he grumbled.

  “Sir, your wife told me to remind you your daughter's recital is tonight. She expects you there,” Alan said before his boss could settle himself into his chair.

  “You can go,” the aide said to the steward. The man bowed slightly and left quickly and quietly as the governor sat in his chair.

  “Oh she did, did she? Well, I'm not interested in attending. Make up an excuse, we're busy tonight. Well, Tracy and I will be,” Walker replied. “It's bad enough I'm doing that dinner tonight.”

  “The dinner is 50,000 credits a plate sir. It's for your re-election campaign,” Nelson reminded him.

  “I know that, that's why I'm going.”

  “Sir, the recital is also a public event. Part of it will be televised. And of course if you aren't seen you will be missed.”

  “So?”

  “So sir, people are going to ask where you were, and why you weren't at the recital. And they are going to start asking themselves how dedicated to your family you really are. Which could become a problem.”

  Walker's eyes narrowed slightly. Finally he sighed. “You know my darling daughter has tones that can bend metal.”

  “I know she's learning sir.”

  “Fine. Get me some earplugs. Find a way to pull me out quietly if I need to get away. Stomach bug, an urgent call, something. I'm not sitting through the whole thing.”

  “You are going to be front row center sir, VIP section under guard. Your leaving will be noted.”

  “Frack me,” Walker growled. “Fine. But someone's paying for this later. I had my own plans,” he growled, closing his eyes and slouching. “Supposed to be the governor and I can't even do what I want,” he grumbled.

  Nelson turned away, hiding a sigh. His boss was turning into a sullen 2 year old before his eyes and he hated it. He hated himself for going along with it.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  As the shuttle unloaded, Jethro let the stream of people exit ahead of him. He grabbed his small carry on and followed in their wake. He scented a familiar scent as he entered the corridor leading to Marine country. “Jethro!” The Gunny growled.

  “Yes Gunny?” Jethro asked, putting his bag down and turning to face the Doberman.

  The Doberman sized him up for a moment then snorted. “Doc Standish said you're on light duty for another few days. So, I'm sending you to Riley. Keep him and Ox company for a while. And try,” he held up a finger. “Try to stay out of trouble this time?” he asked.

  Jethro couldn't help but smile and flick his ears forward. “Yes Gunny. I'll try,” he replied dutifully.

  “How's the bear?”

  “He's fine. Tired of being a pickle floating in a jar I think. Complaining of hospital food,” Jethro said, flicking his ears in humor.

  “Figures,” Schultz said, flicking his own ears in humor.

  “He said he's going to be out soon.”

  “Well, that's good to hear,” the former DI said. “Though they'll probably have him on light duty or medical leave a bit longer.”

  “Most likely. He's still bald.”

  “Well, some say bald is beautiful,” the Gunny snorted.

  Jethro snorted back. It was a bit weird hearing jokes coming from his former Drill Instructor. “Not on a Neo sir. Been there, done that,” he said.

  Schultz just smiled ever so slightly. Jethro shivered. The Doberman's ears flicked in humor once more. “Well, be that as it is, I want you to get squared away and help where you can.”

  Jethro nodded. “Yes Gunny.”

  “And no heavy work with the right arm. Let it heal damn it!” The Doberman growled. “I mean it!” he said, turning away.

  “Yes Gunny,” Jethro said, picking up the bag and changing direction to the armorer's workshop. “This is going to be fun, I wonder if I can get some time in with my suit?” he murmured to himself. He instinctively picked up his pace, eager to find out.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Jump point defense... asteroid forts? We'd have to tow them there,” Commander Logan said, thinking the idea over. He'd thought about it a while ago, but discarded it. “Any ideas on getting around the power and shield problem?”

  “The lance Corporal recommended talking to her squad mate Ox. I have another idea, open it up to a competition. Drop the idea into the forums with a reward. The engineering teams will be interested in such a challenge even if the reward is, as they would say, 'tame or lame'.”

  “An interesting idea.”

  “We could of course purpose build the forts in the yard and then tow them out.”

  “True, impractical though, at least for now. I like the idea of building the forts in asteroids. It's more economical. It would help with our population too.”

  “You would give more people more room for advancement outside a ship,” the AI responded.

  “That is definitely an incentive. Any ideas on the incentives?”

  “Leave time, a promotion, a job overseeing the effort, credit for the work, credits in an account... It is up to you sir.”

  “Yes, yes it is. I like the idea of leave time and a promotion to overseeing the work. Hmmm... let me think about it a bit more,” he mused. “But it's definitely a good idea.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  “Keep them coming Commander, good work. And pass on the same to the lance Corporal.”

  “I will sir, thank you.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Governor Walker heard about Destiny's security breach and then about the shipment from admiral Irons. He was instantly furious that he didn't get the shipment, whatever it was. He demanded to know how it had been kept quiet from him for so long.

  “You answered your own question sir,” the aide replied. “They slapped a classified label on the load. They used all their own people and robots to transfer it. Our spies couldn't transmit the information over the communications so we had to wait until one physically came in on leave and told us so.”

  “Oh. That still doesn't excuse the Captain!”

  “He's apparently not happy about what went on. Someone sabotaging his ship...” Nelson the aide shrugged.

  Walker threw his hands up in the air. He didn't have anything to do with that, but apparently the Captain didn't think so. “He still should have turned the load in to us!”

  “He apparently thought differently sir. Or it might have been someone or something else. From what our source said, the load was protected by the admiral's AI. Anyone who got their hands on it that wasn't navy and it would self destruct.”

 
“So it would have been useless to us anyway!” Enrique said, glaring at the governor.

  “No, it could have been leverage,” Walker growled.

  Enrique shook his head vehemently no. “If we had tried that Logan would have sent in the Marines after it.”

  “He wouldn't have dared!” the governor growled, eyes flashing.

  “Don't bet on it. Hijacking a classified military cargo?”

  “It wouldn't have been a hijacking! I'm the governor!”

  “Which means you have to obey the law sir. We all do.”

  “I'm the governor! I'm the law!” the governor shouted, face red as he leaned over his desk to stare the Lieutenant governor down.

  There was an awkward quiet moment as no one moved or said anything. Enrique Salvador had been stared at by the port admiral, a man who had been insane and quite able to kill him with a single word, this man could probably do it, but he'd have a hell of a mess on his hands and a lot of explaining to do if he tried. Finally the aide cleared his throat. “What?!” the governor spat, turning his head like a turret to stare down the aide.

  “Sir, it's a moot point anyway, it didn't happen. There is no sense getting upset over it. We need to move on. You have a busy enough schedule,” the aide said carefully.

  “Right,” Walker finally admitted. The aide let out a deep exhale as the tantrum was averted. “But I want the next shipment,” the governor growled.

  “Sir?”

  “You heard me,” the governor said, stabbing his desk blotter with his index finger. “I want it here. Find a way to make that happen. The moment another shipment comes in, I want it diverted. Order them to divert then order them to shut down communications like we did with Destiny.”

  “Sir...”

  “Do it Nelson. That's an order.”

  “I'll do my best sir,” the aide said with a sigh.

  “Yes, you usually do. Don't disappoint me,” the governor growled sitting in his chair once more. “So, more on Irons. How did he survive?”

  “He's an engineer sir. We've already heard the story, and Knox news has been running the material their reporter April O'Neill taped before her incident.”

  “Her. Irons lover.”

  “Yes sir. If there is any incentive to return other than the yard and the naval presence, she is it.”

  “Keep an eye on her then,” the governor ordered. “What I want to know, is why the hell did it take so long for our source to get back to us? Even with the leave, it's been a month!”

  “He's been very cagey sir,” Nelson said carefully. “We did confirm anyone involved in the unloading of the cargo had been either sequestered or had been too busy or not one of our people. We were lucky to have the one source at all.”

  “And I take it he was reluctant to stick his neck out? In case ONI or NCIS got wind of it?” Enrique asked, sounding amused. The governor shot him a quelling look.

  “Actually, no sir. He was a source because of his relationship to...” Nelson stopped short and glanced at his boss.

  “To...?” the governor asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Nelson squirmed but then finally gave up. “To secretary Nancy O'Dell.”

  “O'Dell. I was wondering what happened to her. I noticed you were breaking in a new model. What's her name Tracy?” Enrique asked. “What ever happened to Nancy anyway?” he asked.

  “She, um, quit,” Nelson supplied when the governor didn't say anything.

  “Really. I suppose that might be why her brother or sister is looking for her. If I remember right there is an Ensign O'Dell.”

  “There is,” Nelson said before he caught his boss's hard look. He immediately flinched and then hunched his shoulders, knowing he'd given their source away.

  “And I bet the young man spoke in what he thought was gossip to his sister,” Enrique mused. “I'm wondering how you got him to open up at all.”

  Nelson didn't say anything, he just looked down. Enrique looked at him and then to the governor. Finally he sighed. “You better hope nothing untoward did happen to Miss O'Dell. She has a rather powerful family on the station. Her parents are major investors. Now I understand why they asked about her the last time I talked with them.”

  “Oh?” Nelson asked, looking up. He glanced at his boss. His boss had been so self assured that the woman wouldn't be missed. That she was a nonentity. Now he worried that something would come up.

  “Um, sir, O'Dell won't give us anything else until he speaks directly with his sister.”

  The governor scowled. “So he's useless to us now.”

  “It would appear so,” Nelson replied, nodding.

  Enrique heard that and winced. The way they spoke of Nancy told him whatever had happened to the girl it had been final. Quit? No, more likely terminated in the most literal meaning of the word. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “I know I'm not going to want to know the answer, but for the record, what did happen to the young woman? Exactly?”

  “None of your concern. She is no longer here,” the governor ground out.

  “Not here. Great. And when her family, her sibling start asking more pointed questions? When they oh, I don't know, hire an investigator or request an investigation into her disappearance? She hasn't turned up in a month, she rather disappeared suddenly. You see where I'm going with this? When someone like Knox news gets a hold of this, it could be a career ender.”

  “Not my problem. She quit, end of story. Once she quit she wasn't my responsibility,” the governor replied with a shrug. Enrique studied him. He could tell the man was lying through his teeth. There was just a hint there, a smug sense in the man's eyes. But now that people were asking questions, something else. The governor steepled his fingers together and ignored the inquiring look of the Lieutenant governor.

  “So, all the reports are true. Irons managed to beat Felicia's carefully laid traps and did the impossible, survived. And he's shipped off for parts unknown.”

  Nelson bobbed a nod. “Yes sir. Last known location was Triang boarding the large bulk freighter Kiev 221 headed to Antigua.”

  The governor was sorely tempted to dispatch Miss Persephone and her team after Irons. But they had no way of knowing where he went from Antigua! He could have stayed on the ship, he could have gotten off, he could have boarded another. Hell! He could have found another ship in Triang before Kiev 221 jumped! It was so frustrating, not knowing. And with each passing day the variables multiplied.

  He was under tremendous pressure from the industrialists to get Irons back. The various colony leaders as well, even Vesta. A day doesn't go by when his office wasn't beset with a call in by a lobbyist, and when Destiny had returned he had been barraged with calls.

  “We need to do something, I'm under a lot of pressure from supporters to get the navy to heel. We need the navy's resources, need them badly.”

  “Sir, they are one of the few bright marks in the economy. If we get into a tangled mess with them, or mess that up...” Nelson warned.

  “Then we'd better not then!” Walker growled. “Long, we need to do this in such a way to get people on our side for a change. I've got an idea on how to go about that, but we're going to need some help.”

  “Tell me what you need,” Long said, nodding reluctantly. He wasn't sure how far he was willing to stretch his neck out again though.

  “Okay, we're going to need that shuttle, the one on Vesta. The one you know about.”

  “The military one?” Long asked. “What do you want with that thing? It's a death trap! I'm surprised the navy didn't come by and pick it up?”

  “They can't, people have been using it. It's salvage. They found it adrift and abandoned. When I heard about that, I got this new idea. I've turned it over a few times, I think we can pull it off Gerald. If we get all the pieces moving at the right time, and in the right direction.”

  “Okay...” Long replied cautiously.

  “And the best thing?” Walker said, smiling a feral smile. “Pulling this one over on Logan shoul
d make him come begging to us for support. He'll be playing in our arena then,” he chuckled.

  Chapter 4

  Ensign Valenko recovered slowly after another round of skin grafts and fur regeneration. The skin itched constantly. He was been threatened by the doctors that they will sedate him or put his hand paws in casts if he dared to scratch with those oversized claws of his. He grumbled, but tried to be on his best behavior. He didn't mind the teasing of the staff, calling him a teddy bear, anything as long as he wasn't floating in a regen tank anymore.

  It took him another week and all his self control to get through the worst of the recovery after his last dunking in the regen tank. He still had scars, his fur was patchy at best, but they had rebuilt his damaged eye back to new. Better than new really, he had some new features in the eye that he hadn't had before. He was curious to know if Gunny Schultz also had such abilities as well.

  He ran into his two daughters in the gym while doing mandatory PT rehab.

  “What are you doing here?” Corporal Anastasia accused him. She was glaring. Fortunately the gym was only sparsely populated and she'd kept her voice down so he didn't have to call her on her insubordination just yet he mused.

  His other daughter Private first class Netia elbowed her sister. “Knock it off,” she growled. “She didn't mean anything by that sir.”

  They really did look a little alike, sisters from the same litter of course, Valenko thought. The Corporal was slightly larger and more aggressive than her sister. She had a black streak on her spine and a raccoon mask around her eyes. Her sister was lighter, with almost blond fur.

  “It's all right,” he said softly. He knew his ex-wife had poisoned the girls against him. He'd seen it often enough when he had run into them on the station over the years. He'd hoped with time it would change. He had gone along with it, shielded them from the truth. He'd hoped they would have grown out of it, torn through the naivety and innocence of youth and started asking questions, most importantly why. To see with mature eyes what it had all been about.