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

by Hechtl, Chris

  They all looked up to the speaker the AI was using. “Good to know. We weren't allowed that though. And no drones or sensor grenades. I insist we get them next time though.”

  “No. One of the goals of this exercise was to test the suits. I believe the Major will be interested in the results.”

  “Yeah well, I think we need more help,” Miles growled rubbing his head.

  “More bunnies for target practice? They'll just get in the way,” Sergei growled. He sat up. “Grenades, like Hurranna said. That's the way to go. That or drones. Nice bit with the mine though. I didn't expect it. Got Hurranna good.”

  “I knew the options were flank up or around. Up was too tempting to pass up,” Jethro smiled. Hurranna scowled but Sergei nodded.

  “Don't ever take the easy path. If it's easy it's mined. I know. It's easy to spout it off, but hard to remember when it comes down to crunch time.”

  “Yes well, I need my bay back. There is a shuttle op in an hour. Make sure you clean up the mess properly,” Firefly said.

  “Sure,” Sergei got up and slapped Jethro on the shoulder as the others filed out. “He'll do that,” he said magnanimously. He grinned as the panther opened his mouth to protest. He looked around to all the tinsel scattered around the bay. “You make the mess you clean it up remember?” Sergei said shouldering his rifle as he passed the panther by.

  “I'll send a robot in to aide you or you'll take all day,” Firefly replied as the panther closed his mouth and scowled.

  “Thank you sir,” he sighed shaking his head. Okay so this was his penance. He could take it. It was a hell of a lot better then losing.

  “You pay for your pleasures Lance Corporal.”

  “Yes sir. But it was worth it,” Jethro said, smiling again as he went to the broom closet and pulled out a broom.

  Chapter 18

  “Okay people, we've got a situation.” Sergeant Brenet said pacing back and forth. “We've got a small problem with a solar flare. The alert system sounded off, but a few people couldn't or wouldn't hunker down in time. We are on SAR duty. Since some of these people are pretty jumpy, we're going in. Be careful, and when in doubt, be polite. We don't need any incidents.”

  Jethro grimaced. They were the only ones in the area for this. Great. At least his EVA training was paying off.

  The powered combat armor training had been a mixed blessing in the end. Three weeks of work but he felt like it had been worth it. He had his cadre suit now, and the badge to go with it. But it was like having a hammer when you needed a screw driver. He couldn't use it and for now, fortunately, there wasn't a need. Still the extra stripe to full Corporal that came with it was good.

  Each of the eight had gotten an extra rocker for their efforts over the past several months. That was cool, they were ahead of most of the rest of their class. F platoon was outshining most of the others platoons in that regard.

  “We're breaking up into small teams since we've got a lot of ground to cover. Corporal Jethro, you've got your trio. Hit the three sites on your list. We've got little time, a few of these people have no life support and are living on what canned air is left in their habs,” Sergeant Brenet grimaced.

  “Stupid fucks. Some bought the old played out claims as is, and didn't have the money or skills to upgrade. They went in with little or no room for error and dick all for a GoTH plan. Go figure. This boom time we're having is playing merry havoc all over now. Be on the lookout for people trigger happy, a few are not at all happy about us. A few are also the shoot first and ask questions later types.”

  “Oh lovely,” Hurranna sighed.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Hello, anyone home?” Hurranna asked, rapping on the metal door with a wrench. “We're not a door to door missionary group, honest,” she joked.

  “Lady you could be that Admiral Irons guy and I wouldn't care a damn right now,” the gravelly voice said as the door opened. Gases puffed out as they escaped the lock. Water vapor crystallized in the vacuum, drifting like snowflakes. They checked the family over. Their suits were old but still useable apparently. They were a basic type, a design from the earliest days of Terran space exploration and still used over for the past thousand years. Like gunny said, if it ain't broke don't fix it.

  “I'll take that in the spirit is was given,” Hurranna said dryly. “As in, glad to see a face, any face as long as you get me the hell out of here.”

  “Exactly,” the miner said nodding in his helmet. “The name's Ben, Ben Cartwright. This here's my daughter Jeri, and my two grand kids Mitchell and Bobby.” A suited woman and two children in suits came out. The kids were in heavily patched modular suits. One looked like a quilt.

  “That Admiral isn't around is he?” the woman said nervously, looking around.

  “Nah, I told ya, long time gone. Long time,” Ben growled.

  “Should have spaced the bastard. That's what they should have done,” she growled.

  Jethro stiffened. “He didn't do it ma'am. He's shown proof of that.”

  “He did? I never heard that,” the miner said looking at them in surprise. “You puttin' me on sonny?”

  “No sir. We can show you when we get back to Firefly. If you'll follow us.”

  “You are not one of those navy guys are you?” one of the kids asked. “You're a cat.”

  “Glad you noticed,” Jethro growled, giving the kid a look and then turning his attention back to the sled.

  “No offense. I wanted a cat but mom said no,” the kid grimaced. We couldn't spare the life support or food.

  “Hey you’re a cat too,” the other kid said, peering at Hurranna's helmet. “You're big though for a pet. Can I pet you? I mean when we're out of the suits?”

  “Not in this life time kid,” Hurranna growled. She tried not to hiss. “We're Federation Marines. My name is Lance corporal Hurranna of the Anvil cat clan.”

  “Oh,” the boy looked at his mother. The mother wrapped her arms around the kids protectively.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The family looked around the ship. Hurranna smiled patiently and waved them in the direction they were supposed to go.

  “So these are our tax dollars at work huh? Some ship,” the grandfather said looking around.

  “Actually, it's Federation tax dollars. From about seven hundred years ago,” Hurranna replied.

  “Really. That's not what I heard,” the old man turned on the lynx. He couldn't help but look down on her since she was so short. Hurranna tried not to bristle.

  “And what was that?” Firefly appeared behind him. He spun and then swirled an arm through the holo.

  “What the hell are you supposed to be?” he snarled.

  “Firefly. Commander Firefly,” the avatar answered. He cocked his head.

  “He is the ship AI sir,” Hurranna said.

  “Oh. Funny. Talking computer. What'll they think of next,” the old man turned his head, hacked and spat on the deck. Jethro winced. “So you're sayin' you're some relic from the past?”

  “I wouldn't say relic. I was recovered by Fleet Admiral Irons and a salvage crew to fight the pirates.”

  “Him!” the old man snarled, fists clenching. “Damn bastard.”

  “Sir, I believe you're getting the port admiral and Fleet Admiral Irons mixed up. They are two separate people.”

  “They are?” the woman, Jeri asked, wide eyed. “Dad, maybe we shouldn't judge.” She looked around to the marines and placed a warning hand on her father's arm.

  “Nonsense,” he growled. “So what, they brothers?”

  “No sir. No relation. The port admiral was a despicable clone of a despicable person. Someone we're very glad to be rid of.” The avatar moved to one side and a holo of an obese man on a hover lift appeared. His image spun.

  “This is Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons, hero of the Federation.” Firefly said, and another holo appeared beside the first two. The Admiral was standing at attention in a space suit, with the helmet under one arm. “The Fle
et Admiral is from my time. He is a sleeper. His pod was salvaged by the crew of the Io11 in the Senka system while under attack by pirates three years ago. They fled the system and made their way here. He helped restore the ship before deciding to remain here.”

  “Oh,” the woman blinked. “So he...”

  “He rebuilt this ship and others with help, fought off the pirates then was busy restoring this system to its former glory when he ran afoul of politics.”

  “Um...” the girl looked at her father in confusion.

  “He got in the way of people who wanted to run the system. They saw him as an obstacle so they ruined his reputation and threatened to kill the people on the Vesta colony if he didn't leave. Being an honorable man, he left.”

  “That's not how I heard it sonny,” the old man said, jutting his chin out.

  “It is none the less, the truth. You can view the entire recording of the incident and others at your leisure,” Commander Shelby Logan said, coming up behind them. “I was there. I am also a friend of the Admiral. He was... is a good man. An honorable man.” She shook her head.

  The marines had come to attention when the AI had appeared. They had started to relax but snapped to when the commander appeared behind them.

  “I'll see that they get quarters. This way folks,” a harried chief said coming up behind the commander.

  “Sure, I could use a rest and a drink,” the old man mumbled, shooting looks at the AI and the marines.

  After they left the Commander shook herself. “Some people will never learn,” she muttered looking darkly after the family. “No matter how many times you clue them in to the truth.”

  “Ma'am, I was wondering about the tax system set up. There have been all sorts of rumors running around...” Hurranna asked.

  Shelby turned back and smiled. “Like that we're running out of money, that we're going to shut down, leave the system?” She shook her head.

  “I caught some fella passing rumors that we were shaking down ships for money,” Sergei growled. “Set him straight,” he growled, pounding one fist into his free hand.

  “Hopefully without killing him,” the AI said. “To answer your question, we are supposed to be getting a percentage of the taxes currently in place. However, that has yet to be implemented properly.”

  “Oh so... How do we get paid?” Jethro asked, looking to the others, and then back to the commanders.

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Sergei rumbled.

  “Simple. We pay you,” Shelby said smiling. “We claimed a bunch of rocks early on. One of the ships will go out, pick up one, break it up, suck it dry, and then bring the material back for use. What we can't or don't want to use we sell on the open market for fair value or we stockpile. Or we make parts with the material and sell them on the market. That is one way to earn money.”

  “And it is how we get the energy and materials to make things,” Firefly added.

  “That too,” the commander nodded. “Recently we've opened some of our replicators and the dry docks for lease. We will make things for some of the start-up companies for a fee slightly above cost. That fee goes toward the payroll and other things.”

  “Ah.”

  “It is similar to how the Federation services worked back before the war,” Firefly expanded. “However we do need to get that tax money sorted out.”

  “Um.. I take it there is a problem?” Hurranna asked.

  “You could say that,” Shelby scowled. “Politics as usual. The politicians are playing games with the money. Holding it hostage. Don't worry, we'll get it sorted out,” she said grimly. “Even if I have to go over there and get it the hard way,” she muttered darkly.

  “Thank you Commander,” the AI said nodding to the exec. “You three can return to quarters for a brief rest period or eat. Your next mission window opens in two hours and twenty minutes.”

  “Yes sir,” Jethro said nodding and glancing to the others as Shelby walked off. “Thank you sir.” He saluted. The AI returned the salute and then faded out.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jethro froze as he came through the airlock. He looked down the business end of a needler and then up to the eyes of the unshaven man holding it. “Problem?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. He shot an emergency message to the others in the airlock and to Firefly.

  “Yeah. Fifty creds,” the man said not wavering. He spat on the deck and then wiped his mouth with the back of his free hands. “Now. Fifty up front. Per person per day.”

  “This a robbery?” Sergei rumbled on the other side of the lock.

  “Looks like it,” Hurranna chuckled. “Boy is he in for a surprise.”

  “No, this ain't no robbery. It's a port fee. Call it that,” a woman said from behind the man. “You tax us, we tax you.”

  “We're not the IRS ma'am. We're marines.”

  “You sit on your fat asses drinking booze and sucking our pay from honest folk.”

  “Bill, Jen, shut up,” the woman behind Jethro said, coming through the lock. She shouldered past the marine and floated beside him. “These people just saved our bacon. Something the rest of you didn't do. Or did you forget that?” She eyed the growing crowd of people. Some looked away. A few grimaced.

  “Right. So big deal. Heroes for a day,” the woman spat. “Still ain't right robbing honest folk like us.”

  “Ma'am, I'm not involved with the tax system. We get paid by mining, just like you do,” Jethro said patiently.

  “So you get paid for mining rock is it?” the man with the gun said. “Bull.”

  “No, it’s true. I checked,” the old man said coming in through the lock. “Seriously Bill, Jed, Jen, knock it off. These people are nice folks. Cleaned us up, took us in when we were out of air and power, and did their best to give an old man and his family a second chance. They're okay in my book,” he nodded to Jethro. “Even if they are a might odd looking.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Jen laughed. She pushed the gun in Bill's hand down. “First day on the house.”

  “I wouldn't dream of it ma'am. After all, we are using your air and power. I'll forward you the credits,” Jethro said, closing his eyes.

  “What's he doing?” Jen asked.

  “They got themselves implants. He's probably giving you the money,” Jeri said quietly.

  “What?” The woman looked startled. Jethro opened his eyes and nodded.

  “It...” She pulled the Velcro covering her thigh pocket. The loud ripping sound made Jethro wince. She pulled out a tablet and then checked it. “Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle.” She looked up, handing the tablet to Jed the bald man beside her. “You paid for them all?”

  “And the Cartwright’s. Yes ma'am. At least as long as we are here. Once we leave they will have to find other accommodations.”

  “Ah.”

  “So, soldier boy, where does our tax dollars go?”

  “Ask your representative ma'am. I'm just a grunt. We haven't seen a credit. It's all locked away by the politicians.”

  “I'll do that sonny,” she said firmly, eyes narrowed. She nodded turning to the others who nodded as well. “You just bet we all will.” She held out a hand. “Welcome to The Bar S colony. Don't shoot your mouth off less you can back it up, don't shoot a gun less you like suckin' vacuum. All the usual rules and regs are in force as well. I am the sheriff. What I say goes.” She flashed a badge clipped to the inside of her lapel.

  “Thank you ma'am,” Hurranna said coming in behind Jethro. “We've got some supplies for you folks as well. If you can get some people to help?”

  “Well, all right,” Jen nodded. “Seems we misjudged you,” she shook her head and then they dug into the pile of goods.

  Jethro looked around the rather spartan bazaar in the main concourse of the colony. He tried not to look disgusted as he walked down the rows of vendors.

  “Hey man, want some catnip?” a voice called from behind him. He turned to see Sergei standing with a slim man holding his coat open.


  “Seriously?!” the big Liger rumbled, grinning as he shot a look to Jethro. “Man, I haven't had that stuff since I was a kit!”

  “It's the real deal man, my wife's in hydroponics. She grows it for our cats. Since I heard you're cats...”

  “Yeah. If it's real,” Hurranna said nodding to the vendor. “Which I'm having my doubts.” Catnip had died out on Anvil after someone new in hydroponics had yanked the pride's supply.

  “Have a whiff. On the house,” the man said, opening an old plastic bag. She took a whiff and then closed her eyes.

  “Yeah,” she coughed. When she opened her eyes again they were fully dilated, despite the rather bright lights. “Yup, real thing.”

  “Tell you what, I'll cut you a deal.”

  “Sure,” Hurranna smiled. “I'm willing to negotiate.” They dickered for a while before agreeing on a price. She asked for price on one of the plants but he shrugged it off.

  “A piece of advice?” she said leaning to him. “Watch those plants like your kids. This stuff isn't in Anvil anymore. Some twit rooted the last batch up a couple years ago for rutabagas and flowers of all things. So you can set up a nice trade with the Anvil cat clan if you play your cards right.”

  “Ah. I thank ye.” He ran a finger along side of his nose and grinned. They shook hands and he left whistling.

  “Why did you barter?” Sergei asked.

  Hurranna looked up at him in disgust. Her high was coming down. She knew better than to take another shot, it would give her a head ache. “Remember what we were taught as kits?” she said over the link.

  He blinked at her and then shook his head in confusion. She sighed and texted again. “Roll the easy marks. They've got more money than sense.”

  “Oh,” he blinked. “Okay.”

  “I don't want to flash that we've got credits to burn. It makes us a target, and makes us look like rich snobs. Besides,” she sniffed. “I like a good stiff negotiation.”

  “Yeah, arguing is right up your alley,” Jethro said smiling and looking around. She mock glared at him but he ignored it.