Jethro 3: No Place Like Home Read online

  A few of the human recruits gulped. One even did the sign of the cross in front of him and then closed his eyes to pray. Jethro snorted. “Let me tell you about some of the...fun we've had,” she said. She flicked her ears and scut tail and then knelt. She started in with their training exercise on that dratted rock with Rigatoni and his squad.

  Jethro looked around, amused that the recruits weren't the only ones listening. Many of the vets were pretending to sleep, read or clean gear, but all had an ear to the Neo Hyena.

  When it was Jethro's turn to tell a bedtime story he snorted. Instead of telling them something uncomfortable from his past he hunkered down and told them about what to do and not do. “In a way, what we've done here with you is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that hopefully, we've prepared you for what is coming in boot.”

  “But a curse in that we've done so, and others haven't benefited from that foresight. Which means, if you aren't careful and wise about your knowledge, it will come back to haunt you with your DIs. They hate a kiss ass, and a know it all is just asking for trouble. My advice is to stick your nose to the grindstone and don't complain. Don't whine if they give you extra PT. By now I hope we've gotten the whine out of you.”

  There was a soft chuckle and some nods. He returned the nod. “Good luck people. You'll need it.”

  “Good hunting, sir,” a recruit said softly in return. Jethro nodded.

  “That's time people, get squared away. We've all got a date with destiny, and she's not happy if you're late. Nor is the skipper, so let's hit it people!”

  “Oorah!”

  Chapter 4

  The ship's company was quiet as she made the last finicky maneuvers to dock with the station. There was a slight bump felt throughout the ship and then the lights over the airlocks lit red. After a moment, robotic arms deployed to attach mooring lines and hoses. The seal around the hatches went from red to yellow as the companionways pressurized. After a moment they turned green and a soft ping sounded.

  “Let's go!” the acting Bosun said, waving his people forward as the locks cycled open. He turned, surveying the recruits patiently lined up along the wall waiting to debark.

  “Move it people! We don't have time to rubberneck!” A PO snarled, waving them on. The Bosun nodded. Some ceremonies could wait. She accessed her implants as the line of people began to move. Lock two was taking on goods; lock three was offloading. Lock four had been the first to clear, and a ceremony was about to begin there. She nodded. There were some things that had to be done right. Those souls deserved their send off.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Once the noncoms and logistics people started moving the Major called Firefly. He was still coordinating things from the primary base on Agnosta. He had been tempted to meet Firefly on the station but hadn't wanted to burn the time in transit to do so.

  The two Marine officers on board were in the Major's tiny office when they got the call. They looked up and then stood as the Major's image formed on the screen. “Gentleman, ladies, good day to you. Terran General Omar Bradley had it right, 'Amateurs talk tactics; real professionals study logistics.'“ The Major smirked slightly.

  “You do know he was a green pea right, sir? An army puke?” Valenko asked, sounding amused.

  “Don't interrupt. Where was I?”

  “Quoting Bradley, sir.”

  “Oh yes, that's right,” the Major said over the link. Valenko snorted softly to himself. Major Pendeckle glanced his way and seemed to snort himself. “This is where we see if that study paid off. We're staging through the main space station obviously. We've been stockpiling in anticipation of your arrival,” the Major stated. “But first things first. We have a duty to attend to,” he said, voice sobering.

  “What?” the Captain asked, interrupting from the bridge. “What could be...” She looked at Shelby in confusion.

  “The dead, ma'am,” the XO texted silently to her.

  The Captain made an Oh face and then nodded, sobered. “Aye. Good point,” she said quietly. She turned to her XO. “Number one, prepare our people for off loading,” she said formally.

  “We've been anticipating the order, Captain. I've run the sailors through the ceremony. We'll get it done right, ma'am,” she said solemnly and then nodded to the screen. “Sir.”

  “Good,” the Major said with a nod. “Thank you, Captain, Commander,” he said formally.

  There was a brief solemn ceremony as a work crew offloaded the dead that had been stored on the ship. Most of the Navy spacers who had died had been sun scuttled, but one had put in a request in his will to be returned to Agnosta.

  The solemn ceremony and the soldiers and sailors final journey was broadcast throughout the star system. Traffic on the planet halted when the hearses passed. Police officers stood by, saluting silently.

  Some civilians and even a few military personnel protested blindly, but then noted the flag draped coffins and grimaced in distaste at themselves. Silently the military personnel, in uniform or off duty uncovered and stood silently, head down as they paid final respect for those who fought and sacrificed all for liberty.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  “Okay, here's the deal,” Major Pendeckle said, as Valenko entered. Jethro came in behind him. The Major nodded as the two came to attention. “Can the crap, we have exactly no time here. We're getting replacements, just as soon as we get rid of the recruits. Two hundred and sixty-two to be exact.”

  “Sir, that many?”

  “Oh, it gets worse,” the Major said with a dyspeptic smile. “We're going to be a full platoon, and yes, stuck in here like sardines. Hot bunking in the troop bay, wherever possible we're going to stick Marines with engineering training on Chief Chowler. Anyone else will be guarding everything from the pantry to the mizzen mast,” Major Pendeckle said wryly. Jethro flicked his ears in amusement. “But we're also only getting three additional officers, one just barely made second lieutenant and the other two are cherry ensigns.”

  “Oh lovely,” the bear said, taking a seat.

  “And to top that off, we're only getting four enlisted above the rank of PFC. One of which just made staff but he's been in logistics for his entire tour. He has had little training in combat and is, from what I've heard, overweight.”

  “Oh hell,” Jethro muttered, tail thrashing in annoyance. He knew where this was going. “Sorry, sir,” he said, ears back.

  “You're not saying anything I haven't thought of before, Jethro,” the Major said with a sigh, “and more actually, but it's what we've got to work with. Major Forth said most of the new crop of officers aren't fit for more than barracks duty and paper pushing right now. Most have that or staffing on their MOS anyway. He did offer a couple with armor or flight training, but it's stupid taking people trained on tanks or shuttles into what amounts to infantry combat.”

  “And we don't really have the time to train them. Even half ass they would get someone killed,” Jethro said. “I'm guessing the snipers are staying home, sir?”

  “Pretty much. We're getting mostly shooters; the snipers and heavy weapons people are staying home. That means we're going to be doing a bit of shifting about and relying heavily on our veterans. I got word back that we're bumping every enlisted veteran up a rank to deal with the newcomers.”

  “So, I'm now a staff?” Jethro asked, ears forward. He wasn't certain if he liked that or not.

  “Staff and I'm frocking you to gunny, McLintock; don't let it go to your head.”

  “Sir...”

  “It's a brevet promotion to deal with the idiot we're getting. I need someone with combat experience in the noncom slot, not someone who's shined his ass on a seat for the past four years.”

  “Yes, sir. I'll do my best, sir.”

  “We couldn't get Gunny Schultz?” Valenko asked.

  The Major shook his head. “No, Forth wouldn't release him. He's too valuable where he is.”

  “Bet that went over well with the gunny,” Jethro muttered.r />
  The Major snorted but then shrugged. “We're soldiers. We go where we're told; we do what we have to. The military isn't a democracy; get over it.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “Good. Jethro, you're going to get the real shitty end of this, I need you to train these noobs. Some are fresh from boot, just about all of them have never seen the sharp end.”

  “Any recon, sir?” Jethro asked.

  “No. Nor are any from F platoon, sorry. I tried; Forth said no. We'll make do.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “TOE is in your inbox. Go over it.”

  “Sir, for this to work I'll need to move some of my corporals into noncom slots in the squads,” Jethro said slowly, as his eyes tracked over the TOE. He grimaced. Major Forth was sending a mixed bag. Half were people who had been in the Marines for some time but hadn't advanced or seen combat, the other half were total green, wet-behind-the-ear recruits. He was going to be driven insane by gung ho idiots from both sides.

  “Do it. Run it past me or Valenko if I'm too busy. Valenko, you're staying on as my XO. We'll assess the other officers. If I have to I'll...create some sort of damn staffing job or something. I don't know. We'll work it out.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “Anyone that can't cut the mustard, you run them through the ringer. If they are still questionable when we get to Pyrax, we'll, hell, I'll press gang someone there to take their place.”

  “Hopefully someone with some experience. From what I heard most of the people in Pyrax that were left behind were questionable at best.”

  “True. We'll do our best. You're going to get some who are unhappy about the situation. Some who had wanted training in flight or mechanics duties or whatever. Deal with it. Tell them it's not the end of the road, just the intermission. We'll sort it out on the back end.”

  “They’re Marines, sir; we'll square them away,” Jethro growled. The Major looked into his feline eyes for a moment and then nodded.

  “Get with your people; tell them the good news. Get the troop bay squared away. I want a lesson plan soonest. I know you can handle it,” Pendeckle said, hands going out as if to hover over a keyboard. He looked at them expectantly.

  “Sir, with your permission?” Valenko asked, hands on his sides.

  “Go on then,” the Major said. Valenko and Jethro saluted. The Major returned the salute and then turned, already going back to work as the Neos about faced and stepped to the hatch.

  “And so rode forth the three hundred,” Valenko murmured as they exited the compartment.

  “Aye, sir. Sir, I was wondering, can we make some changes?”

  “Changes?”

  “Well. sir, it accorded to me that Bret needs some downtime...”

  Valenko sighed heavily. “And with his wife just having had a kid, he's not going to have his head in the right place you mean? Jethro, you realize we're going to be short handed as it is. Loosing another member of the squad...”

  “We can handle it, sir. And from what the Major just said, we're losing them anyway. The others will be assigned as junior leadership with the other squads.”

  “Oh great, that's all I need. Sergei and Harley with a posse of their own,” Valenko rumbled.

  Jethro snorted, ears flicking in amusement. “It does boggle the mind; the thought of a bunch of little Harley's running around the ship,” he said.

  Valenko groaned, hand rubbing his muzzle. “You would bring that image up,” he growled.

  “Well, to be fair, she's been surprisingly helpful lately,” Jethro said.

  “Yeah, that's because she's saving up for something good,” Valenko replied.

  “True.”

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  “Is he serious?” the bear rumbled in the head.

  “Is who serious?” the Major asked tiredly. He washed his face with his hands and then looked up to the bear. “He, meaning Major Forth, I take it?” He asked, taking the cloth towel from the waiting bear's hand paw.

  “Yes. What happened to the other units? Why are we getting half-ass dribs and drabs and not stand-up units?” Valenko demanded.

  “Well,” Pendeckle said, “ours technically isn't to reason why. But I'm betting it has something to do with all the commitment of forces we've got here in the system and now abroad.”

  “The bases you mean?”

  “Yes. And the space stations, don't forget that. And the ships. We've got ship companies or squads on just about every ship. Even the two frigates in this system have half squads.”

  Valenko made a face. “Penny packets, that's inviting defeat in detail.”

  “It's better than having all your eggs in one basket I suppose. In this case, he's right. And we're stuck with it. Besides, if you remember our briefings, he sent three mixed platoons of Marines to Antigua along with an engineering platoon to work on the initial bases. Plus we've got detachments in Pyrax, Gaston, Seti Alpha 4, and just about every ship or station that can support a Marine squad or larger. Each of those positions requires good leadership. Officers and noncoms we know will get the job done.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I remember that now,” the bear said. They had gotten the briefings about the deployments before they had left and then additional updates when Fuentes and Hecate had caught up with them. “So we're left with dregs?”

  “Yeah, the three platoons was the Major's quick reaction force, one trained almost as good as we were. So now he's scraping the bottom of the barrel until another can have the time to form up. And we're messing that timetable up.”

  “I think it's more than that though. The quality...”

  “The enlisted are top notch, Gunny Schultz has seen to that. It's the leadership that is severely lacking.”

  The bear nodded. “I saw that. Problems with the academy, sir?” Valenko asked.

  “Well, you know the Major didn't like splitting up our people. Putting the enlisted here with most of the Marines while sending our officers off to train in Pyrax. He was overruled though; Commander Logan couldn't see spending the resources to build two academies.”

  “I see.”

  “But it's more than that. Major Forth had some issues with some idiots that thought all they had to do was put on a pretty uniform and they were an officer.”

  The bear nodded as he finished cleaning himself up. “I ran into a few of those.”

  “Right. The plan was to run all the second and third generation officers through boot first and give them time as enlisted. Give them a common bond with the men they would be commanding later. Then bootstrap them as needed to officer.”

  “But it didn't work out that way,” Valenko said.

  “No,” the Major said. “It didn't. First we've grown fast, which has pushed people up through the ranks. Some like a certain fuzzball,” he eyed the bear, “were okay; they could handle it. But others couldn't. Plus, I've gotten word that someone in Pyrax has short circuited the plan, letting ROTC grads go right into officer training and then they are shipped here. From the e-mail I just read, a few ensigns were even promoted to Second Lieutenant or First Lieutenant rank without even consulting the Major.”

  “Oh boy, I bet he is just thrilled by that.”

  “Yeah. You know and I know that the Lieutenant position is where one normally learns the most about leadership and the different roles in the military. It's where the rubber meets the road I guess you could say, a true test of leadership. Throwing college people into it...,” Pendeckle shook his head, “with no true grasp of the reality of combat or logistics....”

  “They are finding out it's not all point and click. Yeah, I can see the issue.”

  “Oh, it gets better than that. Remember what I said about divided government? How Commander Logan doesn't want to double up on everything?”

  “Yes...”

  “Well, with discipline problems, we have to deal with things in-house. A mast will work for petty shit, but bigger fish have to be put to a formal court. And guess where the courts are?”

/>   The bear's eyes widened. “In Pyrax.”

  “Bingo,” the Major said in disgust. “So, he has to record everything, document up the ying yang, then ship the offender back to Pyrax, under guard mind you, with all the witnesses to boot. Which opens all sorts of holes in the command structure for weeks at a time.”

  “Jag won't allow recorded testimony, sir?”

  “Of course not! You can't cross examine a recording! And the defense knows that!”

  “Shit,” the bear said feelingly.

  “Yeah, it sucks. So, he's had to find other means to deal with it. I heard bits and pieces of this shit before we left, it's just gotten worse since then.”

  Jethro shook his head. It was hard to keep track of all the information; there was something new added almost daily and then contradicted or retracted. They were still trying to process most of what they'd picked up in Antigua from the enemy and the captured computer databases. He knew that they knew the opposing Admiral's name was Rico and that he had a cruiser called the Queen something or other, but that was all he could remember.

  He didn't envy the tactical department, CIC rats, or Commander Firefly. All of them were spending every waking moment sifting through what the mountains of data for the tiny nuggets of truth buried somewhere in there. He snorted, besides, figuring out intel wasn't his problem, he had enough headaches in the troop bay.

  “And Commander Logan won't spring a court loose here?”

  “Apparently he doesn't have the legal eagles to spare. I don't have the figures, but from some of the scuttlebutt Forth gave me, a few people have gotten it into their heads to get their scholarship, graduate and then quit the military, which has made the courts interesting.”

  “Ah hell.”

  “And Governor Walker has stuck his nose in it a time or two.” The bear's ears went flat. Pendeckle adjusted his collar and smiled tightly. “He's all for letting them off the hook. If they changed their minds about volunteering, we can't force them right?”