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

by Hechtl, Chris

  “This is an informal inquiry recruit,” Firefly stated. “However it will be recorded and will go in your record. And is subject to the rules of military justice,” the AI said. That warning got his attention. The avatar turned to the gunny.

  The gunny scowled. “Do you know the whereabouts of your father? Or other panthers of your clan?” he asked, pretty sure the kid didn't know.

  “Sir, no sir. I've been a boot,” Jethro paused frowning. “I have had no contact with the clan since going into boot training sir.”

  “Which doesn't mean they didn't tell you their intentions prior to enlistment,” Firefly responded.

  “Sir. My sire indicated he didn't want to follow the clan and went his own way,” Jethro frowned, wondering if he was about to be splashed with something someone else had done. Maybe the clan went underground again? What the devil had happened?

  “Your father is dead,” Firefly responded. Jethro felt like he had been kicked in the gut. He blinked and looked at the AI. “Sir?”

  “Your sire, as you term it was killed after attempting to infiltrate me. He managed to kill four people before he was cornered and was brought down.”

  “Sir ah...” Jethro grimaced. He didn't know what to say. He felt a pang of remorse and dread.

  “He was hired to kill Commander Logan and the general staff,” the Major said, hands knit together in front of him. “Do you know anything about it?”

  “He what??” Jethro said startled, eyes wide in shock. No wonder he was in deep shit! “Sir, I was...” Jethro shook his head eyes locking on the bulkhead as his training kicked in. He knew no amount of explanation would dig him out of this. It would seem like he was trying to hide something. Best to face it head on. “Sir NO sir,” he said and then grimaced slightly. “Had I known I would have tried to talk him out of it or reported it.”

  “Truth,” Firefly said studying the recruit. “Vital signs read truthful response across the board Major.”

  “Which given his training is to be expected. His background and bloodline however allows him to control his vital signs.”

  Jethro kept his face blank.

  “Possibly, but he had an emotional reaction upon hearing his father was dead. I also have accessed his files and formed a baseline comparison. He is telling the truth,” the AI replied.

  “Were you aware of the deaths of that kid and his family? The ones that accused the Admiral? He died shortly after recanting his story to the IG investigating team and Knox's reporter in that interview.”

  “No sir.”

  “Your father was implicated in that. Unfortunately it happened on another colony so we do not have direct access, so we cannot confirm it,” the Major grimaced. He pushed a padd on his desk to one side.

  “Sir, any idea who hired him? I mean, you obviously know who he was after...”

  “No. Oh we have suspects, but unfortunately we don't know. The one piece of chatter we picked up was encrypted and we lost the source in a crowd. He was found dead later,” the Sheriff said, shaking his head and clacking his mandibles in annoyance.

  “You're not curious about how we caught him?” Firefly asked.

  Jethro looked at the AI avatar then back to the bulkhead above the Major's head. “Sir no sir. If you wish to tell me you will do so.”

  “Very well,” Firefly nodded. “You are correct, you have no need to know.”

  “But we're going to tell you anyway as a sort of FYI. We tagged him,” the Major said, sitting back and resting his hands on the desk as he studied the cat's reaction. From the look the cat didn't seem surprised. “You as well. Your entire clan and anyone we decided to keep an eye on. Not that it would have mattered, he may have used his cloak but he set enough alarms off when he came on board so the tag just let us identify the intruder faster,” he shook his head in aggravation.

  “That still didn't help the three crewmen much Major. Or the civilians he killed before trying to board,” Firefly responded. “And I question the need to notify him of the means by which we can track him.”

  “It wouldn't matter. He's not responsible right? I'm just letting him know we know where he is at all times,” the Major eyed the panther recruit. “Did you join the military to commit a murder?” he demanded.

  “Sir, no sir. I'm well, kill in general, but only in a mission op and under orders,” he looked helplessly to Firefly and then to the gunny, and then went back to staring at the bulkhead. “Sir I've always wanted to be a marine. From the first time I ever heard of it.”

  “Truth,” Firefly shrugged.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  He paused as he exited the room a few minutes later. Hurranna was there in the hallway. She looked at him but he cocked his head to the MP's in the corridor and then followed his guide without a word.

  She found him in his rack later that evening. She kicked it. He opened one eye and then closed it again. “You heard?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed shaking her head. Her ears were flat, whiskers drooping. “I'm sorry.”

  “I'm not. He got what he deserved. Damn fool. He clung to the old ways. Couldn't adapt. Wouldn't.” It was hard saying that, he practically spat it out, hoping he wouldn't choke on it. He knew deep down... he knew he needed to say it. To admit it. Both to her and to himself.

  “It's not as easy as all that you know,” Hurranna grimaced. “Did you...” she started to ask.

  “Hell if I'd known I would have torn his throat out myself,” Sergei growled.

  Jethro grimaced and then grunted. “He'd have killed you Sergei,” he sighed.

  “You mean he would have tried. One swipe is all I'd need.”

  “Same for him. He's an assassin. Or at least he was,” Hurranna said grimacing. “One strike one kill. You would have had to have seen him to hit him.”

  “And don't play around with an opponent bigger, stronger, faster, or more cunning than you are,” Jethro said. He sat up.

  “Who...”

  “gunny. But my sire said it first. He got it from the family traditions. It's a pity he didn't learn more from them. Learn that they were based on what Tobias taught us, but corrupted. Now he never will,” he shook his head, ears flat. “I've got to do something or I'll go stir crazy here.”

  “The gunny wants us to keep working on our implants.”

  “I will. But I think I want to give them a shot on the course.”

  “On the obstacle course? Are you insane?” Hurranna asked, shaking her head.

  “Yes, no... wait,” Sergei raised a hand paw then laughed. “What was the question again?”

  Hurranna laughed.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “He's in a funk,” Jefferson reported to the gunny. The gunny grimaced as he racked his gear.

  “So?”

  “So he's a junior squad leader of the platoon. What affects him affects them, it's affecting unit morale. They aren't focusing. And you know that's bringing them down. It could hurt them if they don't pay attention to business.”

  “Which may be what they need if it will break the funk. But Jethro is a keystone. He's knit the unit together. Him and Valenko. I'm not sure Valenko can pull it together if something goes wrong though.”

  “He's having trust issues with Jethro?” the gunny asked. He grimaced. This side training was digging into time better spent watching and interacting with the unit. He knew he needed to do both, but he could only be in so many places at the same time.

  “No gunny. He, Sergei, and Hurranna know he wasn't involved and is actually happy or at least at peace with the fact that his father is dead. It is the rest of the squad. Some no longer trust him and we've had a few spats. Nothing major or we would have reported it, but some definite ill feelings. Some aren't lending support in training exercises like before. The camaraderie is gone as well,” Jefferson said.

  “Which is a problem,” Brenet replied. “It's driving a wedge into the group. Us against them mentality. People are taking sides, or think they have to take a side or are trying to k
eep their distance. We need to get this sorted out soon. It'll tear the unit apart if we don't.”

  “Agreed. I'll see if I can break through the funk,” the gunny sighed.

  “Counseling session or additional training?” Brenet asked.

  “As in an extra exercise as a disciplinary action? The schedule's pretty tight now gunny,” Jefferson shook his head.

  “No. We'll try counseling. The Major had something in mind. He and Firefly were setting it up earlier. A part of their phase 4 crucible training actually. One of the moral challenges.”

  “Oh.”

  “As for the rest, land with both feet on problems the moment they crop up. Force them to work through it together. Team building exercises if necessary. If that screws the schedule up, so be it. So they'll lose a little sleep. It won’t be the first time,” the gunny smiled.

  “And it'll teach them to keep it in the family,” Jefferson nodded. “They are starting EVA training day next week gunny. Not a good time to be tired and punchy.”

  “Precisely why we need this sorted out now. Pugil sticks for conflicts. Or a fun run maybe. Let me think about it,” he said and then walked out.

  “Shit,” Jefferson said, shaking his head and leaning against the rack of suits. “Me and my big mouth.” Now they were in for long nights with the platoon. Just when he thought they were done with that. He had been looking forward to handing them off for a bit of a break.

  “I'd agree but it was my idea too. And it had to be brought up one way or another. If we'd kept ignoring it he'd bite us for sure,” Brenet said grimacing.

  “True. Too true. Let’s go see if we can get this mess sorted.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Why are we here?” Sergei growled, looking around. Most of his unit was racked out. It was in the middle of the night. For some reason they had been paged here. To a darkened corridor. He looked over first to Hurranna, then to Jethro and Letanga. They all shrugged.

  “No idea,” another cat said behind them.

  “If you find out let me know,” a young male lion said sitting in the dark. His eyes and teeth flashed in the dark.

  “Let us all know you mean,” a lioness growled. In all there were twenty cats there. All that were left in the class. They turned at the sound of footsteps approaching.

  Sergei scented the air grimacing and then smiled. “Matriarch I smell you,” he said.

  “Disappointed?” the Matriarch said coming out of the darkness and into the light. “Each of you are here for the same reason. To undergo a spiritual journey. One I have put off for far too long,” she said softly. She turned.

  “Come. We've got to get back in three hours. That was all the time I could arrange for this,” she ordered. She led them off to the lifts.

  She took Jethro and the other marine pride members to their old grounds. Wary they sniffed around, but the place had changed. “Ah here it is.” She touched an old gym locker. “Or is it here,” she said touching another. “No I think... yes, here.” She reached for a third and then turned to Sergei. “Will you do the honors?”

  “Okay, if you say so,” he said. He gave Jethro a look and then shrugged as he reached out with one meaty paw and yanked the lock off. The door groaned as it was ripped from its hinges as well.

  “Thank you,” the Matriarch said reaching in. Hurranna tried to peek in but the Matriarch started tossing the contents out. “God it stinks in here more than the last time,” the Matriarch muttered. She cleared the bottom and then pulled up a false bottom.

  Inside she pulled out a lock box. She opened it with a key then took another key out. “Almost done,” she said by way of explanation. She lead them out and into the industrial part of the gym complex. She rooted around until she found the water treatment plant.

  “Please tell me we're not too late...” She banged on the side of one container. “No, it sounds all right.”

  “It sounds hollow.”

  “Yes, but it's not. At least not completely,” she replied. She had Sergei pull the top bolts out then lift the lid. Covering her nose she reached in. She pulled out a plastic wrapped package. From what he could see of the package it looked like a small locked strong box or foot locker. “Good thing we did this now, I hear it is up for repair later this month, we'll take them with us when we are through here,” she said. She brought the things out and set them down. She opened the locker with the key.

  “Here,” she said. She pulled out items from the locker. Dog tags. “Pass them around.” She pulled out old photos and a pistol. Jethro was startled to note they were of neo marines, one was his ancestor Tobias. She set that down on the floor. “Ah here we go.” She pulled out an old holo recording of the recon marines.

  “Get comfortable. This will take time,” she said softly. Sergei went out and brought back a bench. A few found stools. Others like Hurranna sat Indian style on the floor. “Most of you have accessed the journal of Tobias. What you didn't know was that there was a great deal more to be seen. I have waited until now to show it to you.”

  She set the holographic projector onto the floor and then touched the control. It began to glow purple then a force field was projected straight up as a flat plane. Lasers swept over it. In moments a three dimensional picture was formed of a panther marine in full dress uniform. He stood there for a moment and then saluted. They each instinctively stiffened.

  “My name is warrant officer Chester Tobias Mclintock of the panther clan marine Identification Echo, Charlie, four five seven dash nine nine five of the Federation Marine corps recon cadre division, Black Devil brigade and this is my story to you.”

  They sat back in surprise at the sight of the battered and heavily scarred recon marine. “I asked that this be played for each generation if there is a chance of restoring the Federation as it once was. Each should pass it on to the next. We should all remember. All remember where we came from so we know where we are going,” he growled.

  “Many, many people sacrificed their lives for you to be here today. Without their efforts there would be no tomorrow for any of us. Or for that matter, any of you. This is their story,” he said.

  His holo changed to other marine and army neo cats who introduced themselves briefly. Then the last faded out and the story began to unfold.

  The narrator showed them shots of various battlefields. Jethro recognized a few from his studies. He was awed by the shots of marines fighting tooth and nail against incredible odds. The thrill of battle made his veins pulse in envy.

  And then it changed from a distant shot to one of close ups. A marine on an unnamed beachhead fighting to secure a hot LZ. One screaming for an evac as they are shelled. He covered a battered body with his own as dirt and shrapnel rain around them. Then a KEW round found them and tore them apart. They sobered as they saw world after world devastated by the Xenos. The image faded after a moment.

  “But in the end we held onto our beliefs. Duty, honor, courage. Freedom. Liberty,” he seemed to pause, stumbling over the words. It sounded like he had a catch in his voice. They could hear the pride, the unchecked tears there. It sobered them even more.

  “Protect your unit. Protect your ship. Protect the innocent. That is what it meant to be a marine. But now... now we have nothing left. Nothing but our pride.” Jethro's ancestor said as his image faded back into being. Before him a bassinet appeared. He reached down and picked up a cub and then held the sleeping cub up in the air over his head. He snarled softly and then turned to the camera, cradling the child. “And you. You are our legacy. Do what you must but don't forget your heritage. Try to rebuild what was lost. Restore your heritage. It's your birthright. It is the birthright of every sentient being. Never forget. Someday, our ghosts will return.” He came to attention and saluted. Instinctively they did as well.

  “Semper fi. Carry on.”

  Subdued but touched, the group stood at attention, returned the salute and then watched it fade out. As one they looked at each other and then filed out. They returned to t
he marine barracks not speaking a word.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Think it will help?” the Matriarch asked, watching them go a little while later.

  “Maybe,” Firefly responded through the speaker in her tablet. “Maybe. Each has to go through a rite of passage. Every marine does. But they've had a hard road getting here as it is. We'll see. Thank you for helping them through this moral crisis ma'am.”

  “Of course. He is my godson after all. Do keep me informed. Thank you for returning the original archive.”

  “My pleasure ma'am. It seemed like the right thing to do. We are using spiders to index the files now. I believe it will add more depth to our training and more insight into the historical record.”

  “Good. Anything to help them survive and thrive,” the Matriarch nodded.

  “Good evening ma'am,” Firefly said, signing off.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The gunny paced back and forth the next morning. The recruits watched warily from the floor. Each was kneeling next to a pile of gear in the park deck. “All right you lot, listen up,” the gunny growled. “Today and tomorrow we're going to introduce you to the wonderful world of camouflage.”

  “This here is a ghillie suit. You can make it as the marines back in the twentieth century did out of burlap strips.” He held up what looked like a suit made of rags. “Like this one.”

  “We've come a ways since then.” He dropped the suit and picked up another. He shook it out. It too looked like it was made of rags, but the rags were odd, more plastic looking. “This baggy thing is our modern equivalent. It's for the sneak specialists.” He triggered the suit with his implant. It began to fade until it looked like he was holding up air.

  “As you can see, or can't see, it's got a cloaking ability. But there is a catch.”

  “There always is,” the Major said softly watching the team from the back of the park.

  “The catch is it's got a limited power supply. Also we've only got a handful and can't make more... and it's got this teeny tiny problem,” he said. He moved the suit. As it moved they could see an outline and then distortion where the suit was.