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

by Hechtl, Chris

  “Good.”

  “The other piece of good news is excellent from our stand point. Destiny survived and the Admiral is alive and well. His last known position is on the Kiev, leaving the Triang system to Antigua.” The news had hit the major media outlets when Destiny had arrived and was still being digested. There was a growing backlash against the Admiral leaving, which was both amusing and annoying to the military. First they couldn't get rid of him fast enough and were glad he was gone, and now they were resentful that he left? What next?

  “I take it threatening to start charging full cost for Hephaestus or returning it to Naval control finally got through?” the Major asked, changing the subject.

  “You could say that. I believe they thought that we had given the factory ship to the system.”

  “Fat chance on that,” Forth snorted. “Hell no we're not giving them a factory ship. Not after the crap they have been pulling.” He knew that Commander Logan was seriously tempted to send the factory ship to Agnosta since they couldn't send Prometheus. The ship could do a lot of good in the system and speed up her orbital projects ten fold.

  “Which the commander pointed out to them. Since Prometheus is out of service he pointed out that we will need Hephaestus 33 back for our own purposes. They squawked, when he pointed out they still haven't paid their taxes they folded. At least partially and released some of the funds.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “But it's not something we can do much about. You are distracted.”

  “Yes,” The Major stood. It could wait then. The entire universe could wait for the next few days. “Are they here yet?” he asked softly.

  “Docking in ten.”

  “I'll see you there then.” The Major adjusted his uniform and then picked up his jacket and cover. His marines had died in battle. He was going to be there for their final journey home. It was the least he could do.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Five and a half weeks after leaving the surface of Agnosta the shuttle drifted into the number one boat bay of Firefly. Pipers played a boarding tune. The side party was dressing in formal uniforms. As the hatch to the shuttle opened the team came out carrying the remains of their fallen comrades in quiet, measured steps. They placed each burden onto a carrison and then saluted the officer of the deck, and then the flag of the Federation.

  Major Forth watched from the background as his men and women came home. By rights he should be the one getting those salutes, since he was senior officer on the deck, but he had no intention of upsetting the applecart this late into the proceedings.

  Jethro nodded politely to other marines as second and third squads filed out. Captain Pendeckle and the other officers peeled off to meet the Major for a debrief. He watched them go with mixed feelings.

  It was hard to put all this into perspective. He had tried to block it out, gone about his duty and kept the training routine after sickbay had released him from their clutches. He'd been last for the regen tank so they'd stuffed him in a stasis pod for two weeks until the bear was out and it was available. A day in the regen pod and he'd been out, then a day of therapy and two days off before back on light duty.

  He'd managed to keep out of the debriefs and bull sessions with the other squads because of all that. But now he had to face it. The funerals were in the morning.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Damn. I'm going to miss the dumb lug,” Asazi said, shaking her head. Her white gloved hand trailed over the flag draped coffin. Somehow it seemed strange. She hadn't understand the tradition before, and wasn't sure she did now. A full dress military funeral with all the honors. Miles would have grumbled but gone through with all the hoopla. He definitely wouldn't have liked dressing up in full mess dress. He deserved the honor though. She hoped he was enjoying the show.

  Feet first. The teams had insisted. In an hour they would act as pallbearers, carrying each of their fallen brethren to the lock and their final journey.

  “Me too. He wasn't a screwball like some I know. Chirby for one. His family is taking it hard. Both of them were good marines. They had their heads on straight. Did their job, no complaints,” the gunny sighed. “Sometimes we lose good people. It happens. We've just got to make sure their deaths count for something.”

  “And what did his death account for?”

  “A young girl. A young girl who may never see her parents again, but can hug her little brother and together they can grow up to see a new world,” the gunny tried not to growl. “A life for a life. And all the lives that those bastards might still have been taking if we hadn't been there. Two lives,” he amended, looking at Chirby's small coffin. His remains could be held in a breadbox. They had given the Veraxin a normal sized coffin anyway. He deserved it.

  It was odd, back before the admiral came death in space was as normal as breathing. Or at least trying to breath with vacuum all around. Things had changed. They'd grown closer to one another, bonded in ways that had been forgotten. She realized that bond would only continue to grow. At least until things like this snapped them permanently. Gently she patted the coffin and moved on.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Carefully the drill team folded the flag of the Federation. Thirteen folds. Jethro watched as they made a neat triangle and then handed it to Miles' family and said something he didn't quite catch. The second drill team finished Chirby's and snapped too as they presented it to his child. Jethro's eyes locked onto that fabric triangle for a moment. It was said that once folded the flag should never be unfolded, for it kept the soul of the dead within it. He blinked hard at that and then shrugged mentally. He for one wasn't sure if that was a good idea or not. Both of them deserved to be in what ever Valhalla they believed in drinking it up and having a good time.

  “On behalf of a grateful star nation we thank you for your loved one's sacrifice. He will always be remembered,” the Major said, handing the young Veraxin the flag. The Veraxin bobbed a nod and then cradled it with his true arms to his chest.

  The Major snapped back to attention and turned. He saluted the coffins. “Detail!”

  The team and military personnel snapped to attention to salute. The seven man detail behind them raised their rifles and fired three shots. Jethro and the veterans flinched at the sound of each.

  When they were done the holographic sky above darkened to a view of the outside sky around them. Fighters flew by in formation. Two deltas. One fighter from each flew off in what he thought was a missing man formation.

  He looked to the side with his eyes as a marine raised an old fashioned brass bugle to his lips and began blowing. The mournful tune of taps played out. He closed his eyes, getting his balance back. When he opened them he saw Valenko looking at him. He nodded.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  In formation the team carried the coffins to the lock. They passed the marines and navy crewman along the way. All had their heads down, standing at attention. The marines kept a careful measured step and stoic expression. Each coffin felt feather light, but as heavy as a world. They were placed on carrisons within the lock. Then they step out and the hatch was shut.

  The chaplain patted Asazi on the shoulder in mute sympathy.

  “May our fallen comrades rest until space gives up it's dead,” Firefly said over the overhead. “Their sacrifice will not be forgotten.” The anthem of the Federation played over the speakers in the ship as the airlock opened.

  “Attention on deck!” the AI called. Everyone in the navy snapped to attention. Boots slammed into the deck, echoing down the corridor. The entire fleet was there, standing off from Firefly as the coffins drifted out then were picked up by Firefly's invisible tractor beams to be flung to their final date with the nearby star.

  Camera crews were recording the funeral and broadcasting it for all to see. Recordings would be sent out to other colonies. The panther wasn't sure why. Scuttlebutt said something about PR. He didn't buy it. Why the hell would some dirtsider care about a soldiers death?

&
nbsp; It wasn't right. Tradition was that a marine was buried in the dirt. Navy pukes were sun scuttled or sent off into the dark void between the stars. For some reason the brass wanted it this way. He wasn't sure why. He knew they didn't care about his opinion and that didn't feel right with him anymore.

  “Carry on,” Firefly said. Jethro wasn't sure he wanted to. He looked over to some of the others. Some didn't look like they did either.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Think they will be okay?” the Major asked quietly after the funeral. He'd lost men before, comrades. He knew how that can affect a team.

  “I think they will. Each has faced death before. They've all lost loved ones. They have each taken a life. I would say they will deal with it in their own way. They do need some time to put it into perspective. Decompress I believe you call it,” Firefly responded.

  “We need to get them back onto the horse though,” Commander Logan sighed. “They are by far our best unit.” He'd seen the stats, F platoon was by far the best he'd ever seen.

  “Tomorrow is another day sir,” the Major said with a nod. He watched as the ships returned to port. “One bright with a promise of things to come,” he said softly.

  “Running for office?” Commander Logan asked sounding amused.

  “No thank you,” the Major laughed turning back to them. He sobered after a moment. “Did we get the tax problem sorted?”

  Logan nodded at the change in subject. “Some of it. Which has eased part of the problem. They are still holding back half for this high guard concept. They were agitating for weapons, implants, and hulls but when they ran into the lockouts they put that on indefinite hold.” He knew they hadn't given up on the idea, some of his people were being approached to jump ship and join the guard. When that failed the supporters of the guard had started dangling incentives to get them to join when their service contracts ended.

  He knew they weren't going to win, but it was going to be an uphill battle. He was getting seriously annoyed by the politics. He was too old for this bullshit.

  “Ouch. Are we cutting back?”

  “No. Not if I can help it,” Logan said firmly, adjusting his uniform. “We're building hulls and parts as fast as we can turn them out. We will build as much as we can, stockpiling the parts and then mothball the ship when we can't get it any further. But if they keep giving me grief I'm seriously considering pulling out to another system and setting up shop there.”

  “Oh won't that go over well,” Major Forth laughed shaking his head. “Do they know about the Agnosta base yet?”

  “That just hit the fan,” Logan grinned. The bases were now getting into the news cycle of the major media outlets now that the Destiny news and the funerals had run their courses.

  “Which is why they rather grudgingly released some of the tax money. Not the interest on it that they have been accumulating of course, that disappeared down a hole somewhere.” He shook his head in disgust.

  “Well, whatever works. Carrot or stick.”

  “There going to get both soon. One up the ass, one over their heads if they keep this up,” Logan growled. “I wish we could finish Damocles or one of the other ships. Bismark would set them straight. Or San Diego,” he shook his head.

  “I still want camp Pendelton inside San Diego. If we ever get anywhere with it. But the planet side base... Well, that's the way to go I guess.”

  “True. But it's not quite what we had in mind. We're far behind where we'd like to be.”

  “One thing at a time Commander. Once we set up shop in Agnosta we'll have another source of revenue.”

  “And more headaches to defend,” Logan sighed. “But you're right.” He shrugged, shaking the blue thoughts off. “And now that those kids have earned their spurs they can go right back there and help set up shop. That will get them back on the horse and keep them honest.”

  “Playing in my department?” the Major said dryly. Logan blinked and then shrugged. “As it happens I had that in mind as well,” Forth smiled.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Lance Corporal, you've got a ceremony in a half hour,” his computer said on his HUD. Jethro grimaced. He finished polishing his mess dress boots and then stepped into them. “Coming mother,” he grumbled. At least they had waited to do the ceremony after their friends were gone. Waited a day. He would of preferred that they didn't bother.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jethro, Sergei, Hurranna, and Valenko were each awarded Purple hearts. All eight surviving team members receive bronze stars and golden life saving awards. They were all subdued. It wasn't like when they were in training. Suddenly the crushing responsibility they had was there. Suddenly they were forced to face their own mortality. And the mortality of those they were sworn to defend. It was a sobering thought.

  “Seems like this is a habit,” was the Major's only comment as he pinned a fifth laurel to the life saving medal. “One you shouldn't break. Keep up the good work marine.” He nodded to Jethro and then they exchanged crisp salutes. Jethro stepped back, about faced and then moved off to rejoin his team.

  Beside the team at the award ceremony were two pairs of empty boots for Chirby and Miles.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  After the ceremony Jethro looked at the little medals and thought about it. His claw tips traced each one. He stared out blindly into the dark passage. The party behind him was in full swing but he wasn't in the mood to get drunk, to have a party after losing friends. It felt wrong. “It's not really worth it is it?” the gunny said softly from behind him.

  “No. It's not,” Jethro sighed turning to see him. The gunny was also in mess dress, with his cover tucked under one arm like the panther.

  He'd thought he'd love being a marine. The adventure, the fame, Being a hero. It felt like he had been a kid, dreaming of something and now he was facing the reality. For a long time the words Duty, Honor, and Commitment hadn't meant much. He'd been in awe over these, this pretty bits of ribbon and metal. He'd never thought about the sacrifice. Not until now. Death had been something he'd faced dozens of times in the gangs, and in some of the missions they had done. Each time he'd gotten through it. Fear had never been a factor. Was it worth it? What was he going to leave behind when he fell?

  “The pain, the suffering. The lost friends. All for a bit of metal and ribbon,” the gunny said softly, shaking his head echoing the panther's dark thoughts. “I thought I knew. I've been through it before. Going through this... this ceremony, it feels good to acknowledge bravery, but it also feels wrong. Cheap.”

  “Yeah,” Jethro breathed. “It does.” He shook his head.

  “Then again, it makes us remember the friends we lost. And while you have that they will always be remembered,” the gunny said quietly. “We'll be around to make sure others don't forget either. Every time they look at us and ask how and why we got them. We can remind them of it. It will hurt though, still does.”

  “That it does,” Jethro said softly. “That we will,” he said with iron resolution. He had chosen his path. He was going to stick to it. He remembered the girl, remembered her family. They couldn't do anything for them but in stopping the pirates they prevented them from butchering any more innocent people.

  He remembered the sheriff, and his joyous reunion with his niece. Somethings had to be protected. Someone had to stand in the darkness to fight the demons that came in the night. He smiled a little. Who better than a panther?

  “So what's next?” he asked, getting his depression under control. It felt like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds as he shook the dark gray off.

  “We get to play tour guide for Major Forth. We're going back to Agnosta to help recover that shuttle and build the new training base. After that, I was thinking you'd do well in training.”

  “More sir?”

  “There is always something new to learn. Never forget that son,” the doberman said quietly. His normal rigid ears flicked in a amusement. “But in this case, I had an assistan
t DI's slot in mind.”

  “Oh,” Jethro blinked confused. Him a DI? Well, come to think of it, maybe a recon DI slot wouldn't be so bad. It would allow him to practice some of what he knew and work on developing new skills. He could see what the gunny meant now, how shepherding the next generation helped assure the present one. He was glad he was still here to see it.

  “Come on Marine, we've got a future to rebuild,” the gunny said. “Let's hoist a few for our friends and then get back to work.”

  “Aye aye sir,” Jethro said with an ear flick of amusement. He pulled cover his out from under his arm set it on and followed the gunny out. Somehow the future felt a lot brighter already.

  The End.

  Appendix and References

  Note: I have to admit, the Voltaire quote I originally heard in John Ringo and David Weber's books. I've looked up the origin so I could get my own take on it however.

  My blog for those of you interested:

  http://cyberforge3d.blogspot.com/

  http://www.famous-quotes.net/Quote.aspx?The_perfect_is_the_enemy_of_the_good

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Railgun

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Solar_flare

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Awards_and_decorations_of_the_United_States_military

  http://www.military-quotes.com/ranks/marine-rank-insignia.htm

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_panther

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chesty_Puller

  http://mysite.verizon.net/vzeohzt4/Seaflags/customs/trads.html

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_funeral

  http://www.cs.amedd.army.mil/simcenter/staff_organization.htm

  http://www.military-info.com/freebies/murphy.htm

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sniper

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Marine_Corps_Recruit_Training