Jethro 3: No Place Like Home

by Chris Hechtl

  “Why did you do it?” Valenko rumbled when they finally caught up in a bar afterward.

  “I had to prove to others that I earned it. Not just...” he shrugged uncomfortably.

  “It wasn't something passed on because of who you knew. Nepotism. Okay,” the bear said. “But if you had failed...”

  “I had to pass it for myself as well,” Jethro said. He eyed the bear. “To make sure I knew I was ready.”

  The bear nodded sagely. “I see. And did you?” He asked with wise knowing eyes.

  “With some minor help on the math, yeah,” Jethro admitted.

  “I'd hope so. After all, you are a product of Gunny Schultz's school of hard knocks.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jethro replied with an amused ear flick.

  “Yeah, yeah, so am I, and so is Sergei and Harley for that matter, so it really doesn't say much I guess,” the bear chuckled.

  “I wasn't going to say anything,” Jethro said with a tight smile, hands up.

  The bear eyed him with scant favor. “No, but knowing you, you were probably thinking it,” he growled mockingly. Jethro just put on his best innocent and attentive expression. “Right,” the bear drawled. After a moment they both snorted in unison. That earned a chuckle.

  “Seriously, I was a bit put out that you didn't follow along with an officer's rank, but I think I understand that. If I didn't say it before to you, I do get it now. You're a born operator. Though I do think you'll eventually end up in my job.”

  “I hope not,” Jethro said, rolling his eyes. “I seriously hate paperwork,” he grumbled.

  The bear snorted. “You'll get over it. I did. And besides, you've got an AI to dump it on,” the bear said.

  Jethro cocked his head, looking at Bast. The AI didn't reply, but her eyes slitted slightly. He chuffed a laugh. “True...” he drawled. She meowed a protest, shaking her head no. He chuckled.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Jethro was catching up on the fleet times when he noted Bast was taking an interest in something. He turned, frowning, and as his situation awareness returned, he picked up some chatter. He cocked his head. “I'm guessing you are curious and want to look?” He asked.

  She flicked her ears. He snorted. “Bored?” He asked. She nodded. “Fine then, let's go see what the party is,” he growled. He got up and stretched, then padded down the companionway to the sounds. He was tempted to let it slide, his people needed to unwind, but something else caught his attention, the smell. He frowned ferociously, ears flat. It was an ammonia smell, but sweet as well, one he recognized from his childhood. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Bast, call the MPs. Put them on alert,” he growled walking around the corridor. Marines and Sailors were standing or sitting around the hatch. His eyes narrowed, noting the beverages; not here, he thought, pushing his way through the hatch.

  The person on the other side got out of his way. He looked around.

  “Something we can help you with, Gunny?” A private asked over the noise of music and conversation.

  “Yeah, where is it,” Jethro growled.

  “Where's what?”

  “The Hop,” Jethro growled. “I smell it. It's all through the room. So, someone better flush it before I find it,” he growled.

  “Hey man, cat, whatever,” the private said, standing up and swaying slightly. “We're off duty! You can't tell us what to do!” he slurred.

  Jethro eyed him and then shoved him. The man tipped over and fell on top of a group of half-dressed Marines. The panther padded over to the audio system and pulled the plug just as the first MPs arrived.

  “What's the joke, Gunny?” A private asked.

  “Do I look like I'm amused Marine?!?” Jethro snarled, fully in DI mode.

  The private sputtered then snapped to. Others did as well. “Do I?” Jethro snarled as the MPs who had started to come in thinking it was a noise complaint suddenly took it more seriously. “I can smell Hop in this room. I've smelled it before. Drugs are forbidden in the corps. Anyone who has them is in deep shit. First with me, then with the chain of command. A mast at best, full court martial at worse,” he snarled.

  “What's the big deal?” a half-naked human female private asked. He looked over to her. She'd been dancing on a table when he'd entered, now she was sitting on it. “It's consent only. Bug off,” she said.

  “For your education,” Jethro growled. “Hop is a synthetic drug. A bit like meth but with an additional hallucinogen. Depending on how it's made it can be a good trip or bad. It is highly addictive and can be lethal. It's a liquid, but it can be made as an aerosol as well. A trip can be a few minutes or hours, or it could hit you days or weeks from now depending on your metabolism. Combat can trigger a bad trip. Since I can smell it, that means everyone in this room gets tested. We're going to do a full search. Against the wall,” he snarled, hands on his hips, claws half out. Those that were almost sober saw his half-bared teeth and sobered fast. They moved.

  The MPs nodded and pushed the rest of the drunken party goers against the wall. One of the MPs called in additional back up. Jethro nodded to the first MP, Shep. “Thanks, Gunny,” the Neocanine texted to the panther. “We've been trying to get a handle on it for a month now. We could never catch them in the act,” he said.

  Jethro nodded curtly; eyes slitted as he looked around. He knew he'd made some enemies, but he didn't care. Hop wasn't worth fracking around with. He seriously didn't want to go into combat with someone hopped up on it; the guy could have a bad trip and go nuts.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  It took six hours, but eventually the wolves had been weeded from the sheep. Two Marines had turned on another, identifying him as the supplier. He, of course, denied it, but one pointed out his cache in the Annex chemical storage bay. JAG was called in, and a warrant served to access his implants while another was dispatched to find the Cache. It was cleverly hidden within a container marked hazardous waste. The aerosol gels were vacuum sealed to prevent the smell from leaking out.

  The dealer was in for a full court martial, he knew it so he clammed up and sullenly glared about him as he was escorted to the brig. The others were going through withdrawal and a mast. Many would lose a rank; all would have their careers marked. Jethro regretted it, especially for those who had come to the party unaware of the drug; they were victims. But they had to land hard on such things. There was no playing around with drugs in combat. You had to be sober, you had to have your reflexes and mind at peak efficiency to stay alive. That was it.

  He handed off the mess to Shep's people and then hit the paperwork involved. He found Bast had already partially filled out the forms for him. She'd even attached his implant recordings. He scanned what she'd done and then tossed in a bit about how he'd recognized the smell. Then signed off on it and uploaded the files.

  “Funny. You can fill out a form, but I still can't get you to say or sing a word?” He teased. She sniffed at him. He shook his head, then sniffed himself. “Ah hell, shower time,” he grumbled, padding to the showers.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  The next day they found out about a mandatory ceremony. Marines and sailors grumbled as leaves were cut short and they were forced to catch shuttles to San Diego. All arrived just under the wire in uniform, or in some cases, their full formal uniform as required.

  It was a big ceremony, one with plenty of medals to go around. They were arranged on parade, to make certain each medal was given its due. Each sailor or Marine was called up, and their accomplishments listed. He heard a lot about sailors who pulled comrades from the rubble. Funny, he didn't remember Firefly getting that shot up. And come to think of it, most of the crew on Firefly had been replaced by new recruits on the return trip. He shrugged it off though. Perhaps they'd done duty on Bounty or something.

  The ceremony was broadcast throughout the system by the attending media. All of the military personnel were honored, all attended in the newly-opened amphitheater in San Diego. They were awarded for their actions in Antig
ua and B101a1. Jethro earned medals for valor for both actions. Asazi and the other wounded were awarded for their valor and a Purple Heart for their injuries. Some promotions were also handed down.

  When it was Valenko's turn in the spotlight, he was surprised to be promoted to Captain. It was out of the zone but warranted since the fleet was about to expand explosively again Jethro noted with approval.

  Valenko and the others were no longer going to be on Firefly, they had been transferred off. The final confirmation and orders had come through earlier that morning. They were temporarily assigned to Pyrax system until orders came from Lieutenant Colonel Forth. They were all on extended accumulated leave for the time being.

  Most likely Jethro would be back in a DI slot on Agnosta he thought. He wasn't certain about the others. Asazi maybe would follow in his footsteps, but then again, perhaps not. He checked her through his sensors as the ceremony wound down. She looked okay, stiff in an exoframe. Her leg seemed solid. She'd gotten a cloned replacement. Apparently the medics had gotten wise over the past couple of years, growing parts and stocking them until needed. A bit ghoulish, but better than waiting around for the parts to be grown to order he supposed.

  The exoframe she wore had air bladders that helped support her still weak muscles while also exercising and toning them. In a couple months, she would hopefully no longer need it.

  Kovu.. he scanned the Leo and then frowned. Kovu was scarred, still healing obviously. He had been even more battered than the grizzly with his taste of plasma. At least he'd kept most of his essential parts his suit had taken the brunt of the initial damage. The heat had burned his skin and cooked some of his organs though. He had spent a few weeks in a medically induced coma floating in a nanite regen tank. His progress was slower, but he was on his feet.

  He'd heard that Kovu had still had some medical issues to deal with. The heat had damaged his implants as well as his senses. Still, he looked a hell of a lot better than the last time the panther had seen him.

  Sergio looked good, a bit pleased with himself over handling his part in the battles. Jethro nodded subtly his way.

  Harley seemed amused by all the hoopla and put a slight more comical bounce in her step when it was her time to come forward. She even winked rakishly at Jethro in passing on the way back.

  Ox seemed to take it all in stride, quiet as usual. There was rumbling afoot. Jethro had a feeling the Tauren would be putting in for a transfer to Antigua shortly to be with his girlfriend and his own kind. This might be the last time they were all together for a long time.

  Deja was surprised when he was awarded for his manning the helm and doubly surprised when he was given a Warrant rank. He returned to the ranks with a bemused expression on his face.

  Pa'nash was stiff and formal when it was her turn. She was the gravest of the group Jethro thought. They all knew what the bits of metal and cloth really cost, but her more so than anyone else. He hoped she was over her ghosts.

  Kiara had taken light honors but seemed please. As did the others who participated in just the B101a1 action. It was nice to know others appreciated their sacrifice and the sacrifice of others.

  There were many medals for the dead as well. Jethro closed his eyes, remembering faces to go with the names.

  Jethro noted Bast was watching the whole affair with amusement. He sent her a silent text message to behave. She had started to get a bit mischievous, hacking electronic things around them to exhibit a growing playful streak.

  Once the ceremony was over they grouped around the grizzly, all congratulating him. “I see you two are up and about,” the grizzly said, waving off the accolades. He nodded to the human and Leo. “Good to see you here.”

  “As opposed to the other plane I suppose,” Asazi said. “Close call; I don't want to go through another thing like that. Schedule mine for...quarter to never,” she joked.

  “Yeah, mine too,” Kovu mumbled.

  Jethro glanced at him. Kiara was hovering protectively about the Leo. Both of the walking wounded were on medical leave. They had progressed enough to allow them to rejoin their unit on light duty in a week though or so Asazi insisted. “I don't care if I'm on desk duty; I'm tired of sitting in a damn bed. You have no idea what it's like watching soap operas all damn day,” she growled. That got a laugh from the others.

  Jethro glanced at Kovu. He was scarred, and he had patches of fur here and there. But he held himself up well, and there was just a hint here and there of a return of muscle tone to his body. He was quiet, very reserved. Hopefully his baptism of fire did no lasting mental damage. He could live with a wiser more mature lion. Just having him quiet and not sticking his foot in his mouth was nice. Sergio seemed to more than make up for it though.

  “Sir, until we have to report for duty, am I off?”

  “Off duty. On medical leave,” the grizzly replied with a nod. “Why?”

  “Oh, nothing sir. If we could be excused?” Kiara interjected smoothly. Both lions came to attention.

  “Dismissed then,” Valenko said, returning their salute with his own. They left, tails entwined.

  “Wanna bet they find the nearest hotel or motel, or hell, a closet,” Jethro joked.

  “Envious?” Valenko growled, eying him.

  “No, just finding it funny sir. We're going to have to break them up though right?”

  “Oh, most definitely. But not now. For now, they are good where they are,” the bear said, waving a dismissive hand paw.

  Asazi seemed put out over all the changes in the squad and platoon. “Talk about rip van winkle,” she muttered darkly. “I leave you all alone for how long? And the world suddenly changes,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Having a hard time adjusting Corporal?” Valenko asked mildly. Asazi had taken and passed the E-4 test and had been formally made a corporal a week before they had returned. She shook her head. She joked a bit, completely out of character. It seemed she resented the others getting a free pass while she was in stasis.

  “Well, we can put in for a bump I suppose. You can pass the E-5 test right?” Valenko offered.

  She waved it off. “I'll earn mine, fair and square thank you, sir.”

  “Okay, so quit bitching about it then,” Harley said tartly. “You're acting like you've got some monumental stick up your ass. It's not our fault you got laid up. Get over it.”

  Asazi looked affronted. “You of all people are bitching at me when I joke with you about it?” she asked.

  “Ah hell, forget I even said anything,” Harley said, waving a hand paw in disgust. That got a chuckle from the bear and the others.

  Chapter 25

  Admiral Irons had sent along enough material to complete one long overdue project, Prometheus. Shelby Logan received her formal orders to take over command of Prometheus as her Captain. When she had arrived at the Yard with Xavier she'd been offered the slot as her Captain by Commander Decius, but she had politely refused. Xavier was slated for several months of restoration work before she was returned to service. Prometheus on the other hand was up her alley as an engineering ship. She was a Cabeiri Zeta class, a variant created by the Admiral personally. It was essentially the Epsilon class but with some tweaks. She had cruiser class shields for one, as well as a full-point defense suite of lasers, ECM and counter missiles. The design had also swapped the defunct antimatter reactor and fuel storage for an additional two class two fusion reactors. Unfortunately, she lacked one of her six industrial replicators, but they couldn't have everything perfect.

  No, a tin can wasn't for her. She also believed in the mission of Prometheus finding it important, to go around the sector repairing the infrastructure of various worlds, making good will and contacts while starting the Admiral's planned second phase of recovery. Hopefully, they would rouse up enough support to get the Federation government back online, with funding and manpower to go along with it.

  Her job would go a long way to spread civilization in the sector and a renewed interest in the Federatio
n. But she had to have support, which was why a tanker and suitable escorts were under construction as well.

  Until Prometheus launched Shelby would spend her time overseeing her construction while also overseeing construction and repairs of a sector of the Yard. Her departure opened a chain of command hole on Firefly, one not easily filled on such short notice. With the ship AI frocked to commodore it was a thorny issue. Technically, he could serve as XO since the Captain outranked him by date of rank, but the AI didn't put himself in for the post.

  Purple Thorn passed on the promotion; she felt it would be nepotism to take it. Janice was interested in the position, but she was gently let down when Renee told her she didn't have the ability to command without more seasoning.

  Finally, two days before they were scheduled to leave dock someone else was brought in. Lieutenant Commander Simon Dart was the epitome of a Federation Naval officer. At least a male human one, tall average looking but handsome, with brown hair and a lean muscular body. He was well dressed in his day uniform when he reported for duty, stiff and formal. Very by the book, insisting on full protocols be performed despite the rather hectic repairs and resupply going on in the ship.

  Commander Dart spoke with a British accent but was quiet and reserved. He looked around, seemingly judging the crew on their appearance and behavior. Some of the crew knew of him, texting each other about him. He had served briefly on Fuentes as her JTO before he'd transferred to the college for remedial courses. He had spent time in the Yard, rising quickly to command his own sector.

  During the intervening years he'd had a brief transfer to San Diego before return to the Annex in an admin position, doubling as guest lecturer at the war college on San Diego once a month. Last year he had transferred to Damocles as TACO during the most recent war games.