Jethro Goes to War (Wandering Engineer Jethro's tale)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “That's it I'm out of here!” she screamed, shrieking at the ceiling. She looked up to the ceiling. Schultz growled but Brenet was already moving out to the female.

  “How are the losses going?” Major Forth asked.

  “Running about twenty nine to thirty percent. About what I expected,” Schultz answered. “Adding that last two hundred last minute recruits you tossed at us screwed us up though. We've had to go back to basics a few times to integrate them into fire teams properly.”

  “Funny, I thought it'd be lower. Doc give them the augmentation yet?” The Major asked. The gunny was right, they should have waited on that last installment of recruits. The problem though was that he wasn't sure how long they would have the facilities here on Anvil. It could be a year or more before they had something similar set up elsewhere. He hadn't had a choice.

  “No sir. We've held off for now with Delta and F platoons. We've consolidated the groups as the weak drop out. Since most of them are genies or aliens I'd rather they go through this without a boost than have them get help they don't deserve.”

  “I saw that. Still, thirty percent in two and a half weeks is high,” the major said shaking his head. They watched the chimp walk stiffly off the course. She threw her simulated rifle down and kept going. Brenet came over shaking his head.

  “Then again, if they can't hack it they can't hack it,” the gunny said grimly. “Better to find out now than down the road when things get dicey,” he nodded to another group as they splashed past.

  “I think it's not fair we didn't get this experience though,” the major sighed.

  “Someone has to be in charge. Besides, I heard you had this back in the day sir,” Schultz said, watching the group. The DI's in charge kept them moving, rifles raised above their heads, mouths chanting marching songs.

  “That's true,” the major smiled. “But you didn't. Or any of you for that matter,” he said. He turned to Brenet and Jefferson.

  “Lucky us sir,” Brenet said. Jefferson tried not to step on the idiot's foot as the major's eyes narrowed.

  “We'll ah, just go check on the squads sir,” he said, turning.

  “Get on it. And make sure you both personally run them around the course. The entire time.”

  “Sir yes sir,” Jefferson growled. He glared at a now sheepish Brenet. “We're on it,” he exhaled. He moved off with Brenet behind him.

  “Stuck their feet right into their mouths,” Schultz chuckled. He took his brimmed hat off to adjust his eye patch.

  “When are you up for regen?” the major asked.

  “Doc is trying to clone me new parts now but I'm not a priority so I keep getting bumped,” he shrugged and raised the prosthetic that served as an arm. “I'll get by sir. I'll go under the knife when they do. That way the recovery time will synch up.”

  The Major eyed the clawed arm and then nodded. He turned to see F platoon troop by. Jethro spat near their feet. “How's that one doing?” he asked.

  “Too early to tell sir. He's got a chip, thinks he knows everything. Or did. We've knocked that off I think.” Schultz growled.

  “Good,” The Major nodded. He knew the best way to get a kid to survive was to knock down the attitude and get them to listen to the old sweats. After all, that's how you became one.

  “Recon?” the gunny asked quietly after the panther had passed.

  “Maybe. Like you said, it's too early to tell. I for one am not going to let him go to the rangers when we get them up and running.”

  “We're still going to do that?” the Lieutenant asked behind them. They turned to look at him. “Seems a waste of time to train ground pounders.”

  “Someone has to roll in the dirt. Someone's got to hold the planets while we run around in space. Eventually. In about ten or twenty years.” The Major smiled. “Until then it's our show. Make the bmost of it.”

  “Yes sir,” The gunny nodded. The Major hawked and spat and then walked off. The Lieutenant followed. “Training, good training,” the Doberman said, looking up to the simulated sky and then down to the classes.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The janitor looked up from his closet and turned to see the troops filing down the hallway. He grimaced and then moaned. “You’re kidding me. I'm going to be picking fur and crap out of the trap for weeks!” he said, hands over his face.

  Jethro snorted as he passed the man. He shared a small smirk with Hurranna as they passed. Three weeks and they were doing new things almost every day. This for instance was new, they were in a section they hadn't been to before. He didn't bother wondering why, he'd learn soon enough.

  “All right, line up on the line move it, move it!” Schultz snarled pausing at one side of the open door. They filed out to stand along a yellow faded line in front of a large pool.

  A few people were eying the pool with a little trepidation. That was a lot of wet stuff. As people living in a space colony they were all familiar with null gravity situations. But swimming in water? That wasn't something many had tried.

  “All right, listen up maggots! You’re going to learn how to swim. Or at least get by when you’re in over your neck.”

  “Crap,” the Naga behind Jethro muttered. He couldn't blame him, Naga were desert dwellers from what he'd heard. They liked it hot and dry. Jethro grimaced. He wasn't at all keen about getting wet either. Grooming wet fur wasn't fun.

  “If you haven't noticed by now, you’re still in uniform. There is a reason for that. When you go in the drink you may not have the time to change into a nice fashionable bathing suit. So you need to learn to make do with that you've got. We're starting out slow, but expect to do this with your full ruck tomorrow,” the DI said walking up and down the ranks.

  “Remember. Keep calm. Keep your head and you'll do fine. Thrash about and panic and you're dead. You need to keep that firmly in your head,” he said matter of factly. The DI paced back and forth.

  “Some of you may be wondering in those pretty little pin heads of your why we're bothering with this chicken shit. It's not,” he turned snarling the words. “Someday you may be dropped on a planet. You may fall in this wet stuff. Knowing what to do is key to staying alive.”

  “I'm going to tell you a story. Back in the days of the early twentieth century on Earth there was this big war. Actually, the one I'm talking about is world war two.”

  He paced back and forth, crop tucked up under his armpit. “See the allies decided to invade Europe to free it from the Axis. But to do that they had to storm the beaches of a place called Normandy.”

  “They did. Hundreds of thousands of humans rushed the beaches on D day. Now the Germans knew they were coming so they put up some nasty defenses and one hell of a fight. But you know what did a lot of people in?” he looked around.

  “Not knowing how to swim!” he yelled. A lot of people flinched at that. He glared for a moment, catching a few people by eye.

  “Yeah stupid huh? Fall into water waist deep and drown. So after that the armed forces made sure it never happened again. Which is why we are here. Got it?”

  “YES GUNNERY SERGEANT SIR!”

  “Some of you have a natural gift for swimming. Recruit Déjà step forward!” he ordered. He walked over to the recruit and pulled his hat off. Jethro grimaced. In the corps it's called a cover; he thought. He watched as the DI shook out an instructor cover and stuck it on the bald selkie's head and then handed him a whistle. “For this training recruit Déjà is hereby elevated to assistant instructor. He tells you to jump you ask how high on the way UP just like you would for one of us. Got it?”

  “YES GUNNERY SERGEANT SIR!” the group bellowed in unison.

  “Good good. I'm glad to see such enthusiasm. All right get your asses wet. Last man or woman in the pool does fifty pushups.”

  The group charged for the pool. Jethro aimed for a clear spot and went in feet first. He sank in a ripple of bubbles and waves and then came up gasping. He instinctively kicked with his legs and moved his arms.

&
nbsp; “Quit thrashing about!” Déjà snarled eeling in and out of the mass of people. He'd grab someone and tell them to relax and keep calm. He didn't have his prosthetic legs. Jethro kicked and noticed his legs were sitting there by the side of the pool. Cheater. Then again the selkie sucked at running with those screwed up legs of his so maybe this was poetic justice. Jethro felt the selkie pass him and then concentrated on keeping his head above water.

  The Gahsg was having a ball. Of course they were swamp dwellers, and they spent most of their lives submersed in water and sludge right up to their eye stalks at the top of their two meter tall frame. That is, those that lived on a planet. The ones with them seemed to adapt relatively quickly though, he thought sourly.

  “This is fun!” the Tauren Ox said, snorting. His head with its clipped horns was out of water. He shook it and water sprayed all over the group. His eyes danced in laughter as he easily touched the bottom of the deep end with his cloven hooves.

  Hurranna grimaced. Jethro tried not to laugh. She looked like a wet rat. “Speak for yourself,” she yowled. She shook her head, spraying water around.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Deja, no offense man, but wow,” Jethro said trying to knock water out of one ear. He watched the selkie putting his artificial legs back on over his real ones.

  Selkies apparently had stubby almost useless leg flippers. To compensate on dry land someone had come up with C shaped metal legs that fitted over their normal legs and let them walk and use tech at almost standard height. He tried not to snort.

  “What?” the selkie asked putting the last leg on.

  “Couldn't help thinking you're a fish out of water. Sorry man...”

  “I'm not a fish I'm a mammal like you,” the selkie growled. He looked up to meet the cat's eyes with his own. His whiskers twitched in annoyance.

  “No offense.”

  “Fine sure, what ever,” the selkie said looking away. He awkwardly got up and stretched. “Hate these damn things,” he muttered. He looked longingly back to the water.

  “That why you joined? Thought that marines meant water?” Valenko asked giving the seal an amused look.

  “Shove it,” the selkie snarled.

  “Easy there pup, no offense meant. You sure are prickly. I'd think you'd have enjoyed your envelope and showing us landies up for once,” the bear said.

  The seal stared at him for a moment then snorted.

  “That's not it is it?” Hurranna asked softly. He looked over to her. “You get a taste of what you've been missing and then back to the cruel dry world.”

  He looked away but Jethro and the bear realized she hadn't been far off the mark.

  “Well, if you want to do the bathroom duty and take your time I'm all for it. As long as it's clean when you're done,” the bear said with a nod.

  “Don't do me any favors. I can handle my own,” the seal ground out as they began to form up.

  “What was that?” the bear growled.

  “Nothing.”

  “Thought not. Loose the attitude kid. We're all in this together, capisci?”

  “Yeah, I hear you,” the selkie said as they began to move out at a jog.

  “Good. Just keep your head up kid, maybe you'll be on a planet someday soon,” the bear said softly.

  “In your dreams,” the seal sighed.

  “No, seriously, we're marines, anything is possible,” Jethro said nodding to the others. “We'll be on the sharp end. Boarding actions, and stuff, planetary drops.”

  “Or you could drop out and do something else,” Hurranna suggested.

  “Like what? There isn't a lot of calls for me,” the selkie said.

  “Oh I dunno, you could scrub the inside of tanks, or that aquarium that I saw in that restaurant in the rich level of Anvil, the mermaid's tail I think it was called...” she said.

  “Neptune's Pearl, you're thinking of that big tank,” Valenko said with a wince. “I saw it, they should shut it down, it was nasty when I ate there last. All green and sludgy.”

  “Ouch,”

  “You could work as a space hand, you know, since you're good with zero g,” someone behind them suggested.

  “Trying to get rid of me?” the selkie asked and then laughed as the bear look affronted. “Never mind, you can't get rid of me that easy,” he said.

  “That's the spirit.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jethro sighed as he rubbed his boots clean. They were spit polished, just as the marine corp manual specified. He checked his reflection in the boot toe and then carefully set them down.

  “All done?” the ursine platoon leader growled, coming over to check. Hurranna looked up from her cleaning and shook her head.

  “Why do we...”

  “Again with the stupid questions? There is the right way, the wrong way, and the Navy way. Get used to it,” the bear growled. He shrugged his huge shoulders. “Believe me; I am not too keen about wearing shoes either.” He looked down to his boots.

  Jethro glanced down and then nodded looking up. “Did you wear them on the planet you are from?”

  “How'd you know I was a dirtsider?” the bear said, looking the panther over.

  “A body like yours would suck calories like a fusion reactor,” Jethro said shaking his head. “Besides, you've got a Russian accent.”

  “That's because I'm from a Russian colony. I was a cub when we left,” he shook his head. “Damn Horath bigots chased us out of the mountains.”

  “You've fought them?” Hurranna asked, sitting up and looking at him with wide eyes. She was tiny, barely a meter tall compared to the three meter tall bear.

  “No, but the writing was on the wall,” the bear shook his head. “Pirates raided our colony. Then the Horath moved in. We came to town for supplies and heard the news. Next time we came people we'd known for decades were hostile,” he shook his great head. “Sad, real sad.”

  “So you left?”

  “Ma was killed by a poacher. Da went off to kill the bastards but the townsfolk didn't see it that way. He was run down by Dilgarth and a posse. The rest of my clan packed up and headed higher into the mountains. I took the family stash and took the long way to the space port.”

  “How...”

  “Another story. Let’s just say it's hard to say no to a bear,” he said. He wrinkled his nose and then raised his lips as he yawned. The lynx flinched at the sight of the massive jaws and teeth.

  “Yeah. I think we get your point,” Jethro chuckled.

  The giant mouth closed with a clomp. He licked his lips and then rubbed the side of his muzzle. “Glad you do. We've got an inspection in ten, let’s get this one right.”

  “Yeah,” Jethro breathed. “That'll be the day. Chicken shit. That's what they're dinging us on.”

  “Chickenshit it may seem, but they want a zero defect, zero excuse mentality. In combat you don't get a second chance,” the bear pointed out eying the panther. “Something tells me you knew that already though.”

  “I thought it was you don't get a second chance to make a first impression?” the Gahsg Zebo said turning an eye stalk their way.

  “You’re mixing your human metaphors up again,” Jethro snorted. He checked his rack, making sure the sheets were tight and wrinkle free. Valenko took a credit coin out and bounced it off the rack. He grunted as he caught it and then moved on.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jethro didn't look right or left as they jogged the corridors between the barrack modules and the park deck. He was used to the sidelong looks pedestrians gave them after five weeks of this. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of the ruck sack on his back.

  “Come on, move it, I don't have all day,” gunny Schultz snarled at the lock. Jethro stepped it up. He had to slow down to let the smaller Hurranna go first or he would have run her down.

  His eyes automatically adjusted to the darkened module and he groaned softly. Many of his comrades did as well.

  The park was changed. Gone was the
oval jogging track and center playing field. In its place was an obstacle course from hell. He shook his head as his troop fell into place.

  Schultz walked up and down the lines, eying the troop. After so many weeks of day in and day out drill they were used to the chickenshit. Now it was time to work on other things. He stepped back so they could all see him clearly.

  “All right, listen up! By platoon fire teams you will enter the course. By teams you will run the course, handle every obstacle and ring the bell. The team with the best score gets the night off.”

  There were a lot of hurrays to that. He smiled. The troops quieted. They knew when the gunny smiled someone was in deep shit. “Then again, the three teams with the slowest times get to run the course again. And again and again until only one is left.” He looked around to the group.

  Jethro studied the course carefully. He adjusted his stance, readying himself to go. They were running two troop bays at a time through the course. He looked back to Valenko.

  “Don't worry about me. Just worry about your own tail kitty,” Valenko growled. Jethro shrugged. He could get through the course fast. He looked over to a cheetah. Maybe not as fast as one of them though. He shook his head.

  Di's were stationed at various obstacles, chewing the teams out. He watched as some of the troop muttered to each other. “God this is going to be a bitch,” Hurranna growled.

  “Pity you,” The Gahsg coughed turning to her. He indicated the ten meter high wall.

  “You mean pity you,” she indicated the barb wire section, men and women were crawling through as rounds went over them. “I'm small enough to get through that no problem,” she snarled.

  “Yeah, with your height you can walk under it no prob,” Jethro said. She glared at him. “I wonder what inspired gunny?” he asked.

  “Old recruiting movies. Or old war movies in general. I heard Corporal Jefferson muttering about them the other day,” Hurranna said.

  “Wonderful,” Jethro growled. Somehow though, he wasn't at all surprised. It wasn't like they had a lot to go off of. It was one thing to read about it in a manual, quite another to see, touch, and experience something hands on. He'd learned that already.