Jethro 3: No Place Like Home

by Chris Hechtl

  He already knew about the cloak, the shields, and inertial dampeners. He'd known about the internal weapons, the previous power plant being an antimatter one, and that the suit could interface and use any hardware built for the Marines or Army. But again, maddening, there weren't any specifics.

  “I think we'll make a good team, sir. Bast is...coming along. I need to cut her the slack she needs to grow into a person.”

  “I see. Bast. Well,” the bear said, rubbing his muzzle. He nodded to the suit. “Welcome aboard Bast.”

  “She doesn't talk, sir,” Jethro said. “She's...I guess you could say a baby still. A cub.”

  “I see,” Valenko said. “I thought I'd lost you to the Admiral,” he said, pointedly meeting the panther's eyes.

  Jethro stood at attention but squirmed internally. He had sent an e-mail to the Admiral that morning. He had agreed to becoming a Cadre member, apparently surprising Admiral Irons. The Admiral had sent a message back which explained such a project wasn't that simple though, and they'd have to wait.

  “Until then you can use the armor but be careful with it,” the Admiral had said. Jethro had understood, and been grateful.

  The Admiral's files did admit that the armor was keyed to Jethro or a close family member but didn't go into details due to the entire situation being highly classified.

  He had found out that after a couple weeks he could cut back on the suit time. Weaning would be...unpleasant, but if he slept in the suit, it would allow the AI to get her fix in while he didn't look like an ass stomping around all over the ship.

  “We've got about six hours before the fleet breaks up. If you need something replicated, you'd better get the order in quick. Not that I expect it to be filled,” the bear rumbled.

  Jethro cocked his head thoughtfully. They had the two functional food replicators on board, both built for large groups. They also had a few small drink replicators, and one class one industrial replicator tucked away in the forward hold. “I think we're good. I checked the TOE; I'll check it again. Nothing really popped up in my mind as missing. The mechs are a good idea.”

  “True.”

  “How are we with getting the security monitors back online?”

  “There we're getting somewhere because of our cargo,” the bear said. “We've bumped that up as a priority. Once the squids got their act together and got our computer network sorted out, it was only a matter of rebooting the system and then setting up the operating system. Or so Ox has assured me,” the bear said with a tight smile. Jethro snorted. “It apparently worked, because once the central net was on it has been letting the firmware in each of the cameras and sensors log in. We've got the prison hold and essential spaces covered. One thing I'd like to do is get the rest of the ship sorted out.”

  “Well sir, if we can train a few Marines to diagnose a camera and make sure it's plugged in, I think we can get at least some areas online. Are the mechs tied into the system?” The panther asked.

  The bear shook his head. “No, we're working them off our implants and a separate net. We don't want them going down if the main ship's net has a hiccup, which it does every time Ox or his people tamper with the computers. The thing is very shaky, so don't rely on the cameras.”

  “I never intended to, sir.”

  “Good.”

  “Sir, can we work on the ship?”

  “If you're asking the same thing our acting Captain asked, no. I'm not trusting the prisoners in work details outside the brig. Not now, possibly not ever. Not with our manpower issues. Even augmented, there are only thirty of us and six hundred and seventeen prisoners. Not good odds, even if you are in armor.”

  “I know sir. One question, any chance of getting a medic? Even Gusterson?”

  The bear sighed. “I tried, no dice. He's off playing ship's medic on Gypsy Rose, watching over the wounded.”

  “Sir, they are popsicles in stasis!” Jethro protested.

  The bear held up a restraining hand paw. “I know, I know, but I was overruled. Angel the other medic assigned to us is off on...I think Spaceways Whale or Xavier. Wait, no Xavier,” he said thoughtfully.

  “So, if anything happens...” Jethro said, not liking what he was hearing.

  “We use what training we've got. The basic first aid. If we've got a lot of injured, triage. Save the ones we can. Crew and Marines first of course.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We do have some stasis pods. Two or three I think in the life boats. The rest were appropriated by the medics for the wounded on the reefer ship.”

  “Joy,” Jethro sighed. The reefer ship was the only refrigerated ship in the fleet. Apparently she'd hauled cold food goods between star systems before the war. But deep in her past she'd been some sort of colony transport. Apparently she still had the links for the stasis pods, which was why she was being set up with all the pods in the task force.

  “It is what it is,” the bear shrugged.

  “Yes, sir, we're Marines, we'll make do,” the panther said. “One way or another,” he vowed darkly.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  The morning of their separating ways, the Admiral had a few last minute chores to finish up. So, while some of the crew nursed hangovers or grumbled over the engineers’ insistence on one last series of checks, he called a meeting of senior officers.

  “I'll try to keep this short,” the Admiral, said, turning to the captains. “Mayweather and Firefly, when you get back to Pyrax and if Commander Vargess returns while you are there, hold a promotions board for him.”

  Both captains nodded. “With Logan on file as a Captain you have the minimum three to do so. Once you have I want you four to go through the rank and file and correct any long overdue promotions. Fill the vacancies in the command staff if Horatio hasn't already done so for one.”

  “Easier said than done, sir. The best candidates for the jobs refuse to do it. And we've had one case of seniority in an...alien being and his body’s limits has caused issues with us.”

  “Joy,” the Admiral replied. “Do your best to handle it without stepping on toes, but if you must you must. But fill in the gaps first.”

  “Aye, sir,” Captain Mayweather replied. She glanced at Shelby. The other woman shrugged slightly.

  “Firefly, Sprite has found the updated regulations in her travels regarding key transfer. Apparently during the later stages of the war the rump legislature recognized the problem and tried to address it. We now have a partial fix, a firmware update for Horatio.

  Commander Sprite and I have recorded the firmware updates to Horatio. His MOS is as an engineer, so he will have engineering implant codes. We have uploaded them to you in an encrypted file. When he comes on board, you are to have him jack-in and receive the firmware update. It should take. It isn't the entire update, but it is enough to get the ball rolling until we can meet up physically, and I can finish the key install.”

  “Aye, sir,” Firefly responded. Mayweather nodded slightly, doodling with her fingers. “I see the files,” the AI said cautiously.

  “Don't touch them,” Sprite warned. “Don't even do a virus scan or they will self-destruct.”

  “Understood. I've handled classified data before Commander,” Firefly responded.

  Irons nodded. “With the firmware update, the keys you three have, plus what you now have in storage or under construction, you should be able to finish the smaller ships. At least get them space worthy. That should thicken the defenses in Pyrax nicely,” he said.

  Again the AI and human Captain nodded.

  “I've taken the liberty of queuing up all the replicators and your machine shop. Those include the machinery in the armory. I believe Sergeant Riley had a conniption until he realized just what I was up to,” the Admiral said.

  “And just what were you up to, sir? If I may dare ask?” Commander Logan replied. “Tucking away some goodies I hope?”

  “In a way,” the Admiral replied. “I've got equipment currently under construction, as Fir
efly well knows. It is draining your fuel, so I arranged for you to be topped off before you head out. I left my gas refinery in Beta 100, so it should be full by now. We'll pick it up and drain her on our way through that system.”

  “Okay...”

  “The armory is churning out frames and parts you couldn't before. Enough to outfit a platoon. The other fabricators and machine shops are making weapon, computer, and hyperdrive components. I've got enough backlogged in the cue for you to build things your entire trip back. That is until you run out of room or materials. So I strongly suggest you also make room and take on as much materials as you can. Stuff them in crew quarters and in companionways if you have to. Unload what you can to other ships. There is a list,” he pushed a tablet to the center of the table.

  Commander Logan whistled as she touched the tablet with her index finger and the file uploaded to her.

  “Do not, and I mean do not,” the Admiral said sternly, getting their attention. He held up one warning finger. “Under no circumstances should you interrupt it. Do not interrupt the queue. It's on a set pattern. Once you interrupt it the software in the replicator won't reset; it will wipe the codes. So, if it isn't important, it had better wait,” he said.

  “Aye, sir,” Firefly replied.

  “I'm dead serious about this. I focused on parts you three still don't have the authorization to make. It's the best I can do. You can put the pieces together or stockpile them in Pyrax.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “On another subject, do you two have any issues to my leaving Captain Logan in charge of Pyrax?” he asked. “You two will be senior now,” he said. Shelby stiffened, bristling at any implied insult to her father.

  “No sir,” Firefly said. “I'm after all, a ship AI. I prefer that.”

  “No,” Captain Mayweather said slowly. All eyes turned to her. “I'm a ship's Captain,” Renee said carefully. “I do admit, we've helped him where we can. He's not a born officer, sir; he's struggling to deal with it all. I think his stubbornness has helped a lot. But he does have his blind spots,” she said, ignoring Shelby.

  “So do we all. I've screwed up. Rather spectacularly at times,” the Admiral admitted. “Captain Logan is more interested in running the day-to-day engineering efforts than in managing the entire system. He is a yard dog at heart, sir,” Firefly reported.

  The Admiral smiled. “He's not the only one,” he said softly.

  “True,” Shelby replied. She raised her hands. “And dad will admit, he's a techy at heart. He hates being chained to a desk. He loves playing hooky, going out to see the ships or getting his hands dirty.”

  “Me too,” Irons said softly. He felt a pang at not being with Horatio.

  Mayweather wasn't quite ready to be pried from the Captain's chair, but she admitted that she and Firefly have been helping to run things. Apparently, Vargess was also helping. The troika and senior staff seemed to be working...most of the time.

  Ambivalent, Irons let it ride for now without trying to resolve the issue. Right now, it was working for them without a clearer chain of command.

  “Has Nata'roka settled in? I sent her an e-mail apologizing for not checking in with her,” the Admiral said.

  “She's fine Admiral. Sleeping now. She is very grateful for the much larger tank,” Doctor Standish reported. He had dark circles under his eyes; he was still getting little sleep with all the wounded on board.

  “Very well,” Irons rose. The others rose with him. “It's been an honor ladies and gentlemen, I hope to see you all again sometime in the future. But let's leave the last minute dashing rescue out this time,” he said dryly. He shook hands with each of them.

  “Unless we need it,” Sprite interjected. That got a laugh.

  “Good sailing folks,” Irons said. The compartment came to attention and saluted. He returned the salute.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  “Captain, we're receiving a hail from Maine, a salute,” Firefly said.

  “Send the reply. Good hunting and spirit of space, safe speed,” Captain Mayweather replied. They had just started to move out on their scheduled time table. Firefly led the way, the corvette Charlie followed along with the other ships, each standing off at safe ship keeping distances. Xavier followed in their wake.

  They had all the former slaves, roughly six hundred of them, who didn't want to be in the military and a part of the Admiral's grand journey. Most would go their own way in Pyrax. Some were already agitating to get their ships back. Apparently half of the Gypsy Rose's crew was still alive, most were on that ship. About thirty-nine of Minerva Alabama's crew had survived; all had insisted on remaining on their ship. None of their officers had survived; in fact, most of the surviving officers had been engineers on the other ships.

  She could understand how they wanted to take control of their life and move on. Their ships were their homes, their lives. She just hoped history didn't repeat itself as far as they were concerned.

  “The salute was from Ensign Lobsterman,” Firefly said.

  “Eh, so it was,” Renee replied absently. She nodded. “How is he doing?”

  “From the sound of the single hail, fine Captain. Of course it was only one point of information,” the ship AI said.

  “True. And the others?”

  “Xavier reports all is well. The status of the AIs with the Admiral's group is...optimal.”

  “Understood,” Renee replied, checking her status board. “We ready for this Janice?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Ready and eager,” Janice replied, grinning.

  “Good. We're only going to get one shot at getting it right. A lot of ships are riding on this.”

  Janice nodded. “I know ma'am; we'll get it done,” she said, looking at Deja. The Selkie nodded. So did the image of Lieutenant Commander Nat'aroka. The Ssilli was a welcome addition to the navigational team. She had deposed Janice as the department head, which had put the woman out a little briefly before the alien had pointed out that it would be only temporary. Besides, she couldn't attend to all the duties on the ship.

  Firefly looked at the Admiral's fleet. “They've got a long road ahead of them. I wish he'd reconsider and follow us. They could cut their transit time by months if they did.”

  “Yes, but then he'd have to deal with the Pyrax mess,” Renee replied. “And I'm fairly certain he doesn't want to get bogged down there. Besides, I'm fairly certain he also wants to relieve his people in Hoshi's World and Richalu, and then move on to Kathy's World and Protodon and rescue the people there too.”

  “True,” Firefly replied. “I shudder to think of what the Horathians have been up to there. Especially Kathy's World. That planet may be in an ice age, but half her population was listed as Neo.”

  “Yeah, no, not good,” Renee said shaking her head.

  “Task force one is getting underway,” the sensor rating said. Renee checked the plot. The Manta frigate was on point, followed by the destroyers Bounty and Apple. The three Apollo class corvettes Echo, Tweedle dumb and Tweedle dee were on the flanks with the four fighters. She hadn't bothered to launch her own fighter compliment since they were so close to the jump point.

  The Battlecruiser Maine was in the pocket, apparently the Admiral was taking a different approach to navigation, with the BC keeping station in the center of the fleet and all the other ships taking their heading off of her. She hoped it worked out.

  The factory ship Carnegie, six of their largest freighter turned colliers and the two tankers followed them.

  “Initiating jump calculations,” the Ssilli said.

  “Time to jump five minutes,” Janice said, starting the countdown. “Hyperdrive is on and fully charged.”

  “Engineering reports all is well,” the com rating said looking up.

  “Status of the fleet, Commodore?” Renee asked, smiling slightly to the AI's image.

  “You just had to twist my tail,” the ship AI replied with a shake of his virtual head. “All report ready and eager to go, Capta
in.”

  “Good.”

  “Entering final minute of countdown, passing control to the commander,” Janice said.

  “I have the con,” the Ssilli said formally. “Jump in thirty seconds. Initiating locks. Course set. Dark matter charged and ready.”

  Renee looked at the departing fleet. “Kick some ass, Admiral,” she murmured. She turned, straightening in her chair with what she hoped was a professional air. “Initiate jump then,” Renee said with a curt nod.

  Chapter 20

  Once they were underway, life settled down into routine on Oasis. Since the crew was stretched so thin they met rarely, normally by accident in the mess or while on duty on the bridge. The Veraxin Captain rarely left the bridge, he even slept in the nearby Captain's office. What meetings they had were usually virtual or through text messages, if at all.

  Jethro ran his planned schedule for drills past the officers, who agreed to them, but put them off for later. He got a handle on the roster and then started randomly checking on them to make certain they were alert and on guard and not goofing off.

  Wherever he went, Jethro was teased about wearing the suit. He was used to some ribbing; after all Marines constantly played pranks when they were on light duty. If you couldn't take the joke you shouldn't have joined was the maxim.

  The suit complicated his life though; he had to wear it when sleeping which made seeing the luxurious bed in his quarters torture. The first time he'd managed to take the suit off when Bast had been asleep she'd woken and wrapped it around him. He'd managed to squirm free, but her piteous meows and squalls had finally made him relent and put the damn thing back on. For the first time he had started to despise the thing.

  He did manage to take the suit off the next day to take a much needed shower and stretch. Bast had been asleep again and had only woken when he'd started putting it back on. “See, I'm getting back into it, no need to have a fit,” he said. He felt her phantom cheek caress when he finished. He'd left the helmet off though.