Jethro: First to Fight

by Hechtl, Chris

  Valenko read her jacket again as she went to work with the squad. She was good, but her jokes tended to wear on her old squad, one of the reasons why she had only gone up the ladder a few rank tabs. She'd actually made it to PFC, but had lost a stripe after a particularly nasty prank had gone wrong.

  She seemed to have mended her ways, so he decided to give her a chance. As long as she didn't get carried away that was. She had also gotten her quals as a backup sniper and back up medic. That said something right there.

  The foxes Pamplona and Shiku were both up for their last empty slot. Both Verpines were good, damn good at being sneak specialists. Both were lance corporals now, snipers. That would cause a headache with Kovu and Jethro. Jethro was the lead sniper of the squad, Kovu was coming along fine. Both Verpines were lead snipers in the squads they were in currently, which was an issue.

  Besides, he was getting a little sniper heavy. He needed another shooter. He frowned and then passed on them.

  Private “Curious” George might be an interesting rifleman, but a bit of a problem. The Neo-orangutan was a joker like Harley. Could he deal with two, no three jokers in the squad? It'd definitely keep everyone on their toes, but they had to sleep sometime! No, he would be better off passing.

  Now, Daka, he was someone to consider. A growing male gorilla, he was another graduate of F platoon and had actually applied to join Valenko's recon squad repeatedly. Daka was pretty mild, he'd pick someone up by the ankle if they irritated him. He didn't have much of a sense of humor, but he was good troop. Daka had been driven into the Marines by his silverback, the male had driven him out when he had entered puberty. That had to have sucked.

  No, Daka wouldn't work with Harley, he'd probably tear the hyena apart. Knowing her, she'd probably do something stupid like try to shave the gorilla in his sleep. He frowned and made a mental note to lock his door.

  What he wouldn't give to have one of the Agnosta brood. He looked at their jackets and then frowned. He hadn't noticed until just now, but over ninety percent had been Neo's from F platoon. Only a small handful had been human. That was odd. Or was it? Had Major Forth stacked the deck with his best people?

  He went over the other candidates with fresh eyes. He'd just done that, looked for Neo's over a human. He felt a little annoyed at himself. Finally he turned his attention to one human, a blue eyed blond with a cool look. Clive Bret, PFC. Good records, no bad marks, recon qualified, rifleman, heavy weapons certified, back up medic, suit and armor certified, but interested in command track, or at least noncom track. Interesting. He made a quick gut call and signed off on the papers for the PFC.

  “We shall see,” Valenko murmured softly, tapping his lips with one long claw. “We shall see won't we?”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The new financial year was declared nearly seven months after the return of Destiny. Recruits joined the Marines and navy despite competition from the militia and subtle prodding by the governor and colonial mayors. The down tick in the economy was just getting steam, with admiral Irons away things were settling down and the jobs that had been planned were not appearing as fast as everyone had hoped. The one bright spot on the horizon was the Navy. They were taking in just about anyone. They were also willing to train a recruit, provide them housing, food, medical care, and do the same for their family. In an economy where experience mattered, that was vitally important.

  Some of the recruits were older people with little or no hope of steady work in the new economy. Some had lost their jobs due to health reasons or because they had been replaced by a repaired piece of equipment. Many however were young, people out for a chance at danger and excitement, adventure and seeing new places. Young people striking out on their own for the first time, full of life and ready to make a name for themselves. Quite a few people were just interested in a steady pay check and getting out of Pyrax.

  Volunteers were divided, sixty percent preferred the navy but did not have the education, skills, or mindset to handle being on a ship. Those of course could be trained or compensated for. Many who lacked an education opted for the Marines, militia, or some of the various security outfits starting up.

  The governor's militia swelled its ranks but had trouble with what to do with all those people. The governor attempted to pay for the militia by diverting the tax funds from the military to the militia once again but this time JAG was ready and filed petitions with the court to stop such activity. Governor Walker seethed as the case made its way through the courts. His blatant attempt at stealing the funding was squashed by Judge Hershey. The Pyraxian congress deadlocked on an amendment to fund the militia through other sources when the militia's initial budget was examined. Apparently less than five percent had actually been used by the militia, the rest of the funding had disappeared in dozens of shell company subcontractors without any sign of benefit to the system. Quietly the governor's supporters refused to back him and allow more graft. The public exposure of the corruption forced them to turn their back on him.

  Without ships, facilities, or funding the militia became something of a joke in the system. The governor's staff did their best to distance the governor from the project, refocusing on finishing the capital colony.

  With funds finally becoming available Horatio expanded the construction of San Diego and accelerated the Agnosta base project. However there was still the problem of all the recruits. They were coming in, but in small job lots every week.

  The problem of all the recruits kept rearing its head until a novel solution was promoted by Veber. The Centaurian suggested the recruits be put into stasis. Volunteers would be paid for their trouble, and well cared for.

  Reluctantly the Major and Commander Logan had the recruits put into stasis. Only volunteers were allowed, any who refused the order were quietly given their discharge papers and escorted out of military space. The recruits who did volunteer were given full medical as a major incentive. Each would receive a full regen, antigen, therapy, Ident implant, and body implants for their troubles. They would have sleep teaching and information downloads and would enter an accelerated training class once they were awakened. They would also receive a marker in their jackets, a merit to consider for future promotions.

  That drew several hundred recruits, but many wavered, afraid of what would pass while they slept. They were also given a further incentive, a bonus, one hundred credits for every day they were in stasis. This would serve as an incentive for them and for the officers and bean counters to get their collective acts together.

  Finally, the Marine recruits were informed that they would be shipped to Agnosta and would wake on the new world. That also gave them an added incentive to go with the program. The naval recruits would remain behind in Pyrax.

  Not that it was so easy. Some things were easier said than done.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The new year also started a dating fad. That led to a swarm of weddings as approvals for marriages worked their way through the bureaucratic red tape of the navy. Credits for housing and other things were worked out. Some families would receive pay for being split up when a spouse was sent to Agnosta.

  Clive Bret had settled into the squad, and was the first to get married. He was a quiet sort, perfectly squared away with a no nonsense approach to combat. He got along well with the other members of the squad. They hadn't known he had been dating until he had asked them to attend the wedding. Valenko put in for the time off and it was granted.

  They threw him a bachelor party on Anvil. Due to their implants the Marines weren't that hung over the next day. Clive's eyes were a little bloodshot, but he made 'the movement as required'.

  The albino Lotus had been in the wedding party, she had looked like a bright white beacon in her dress. She had silk flowers of white as well, it was a stunning look for the cat. She seemed embarrassed by the attention the bridal party received.

  Lotus had done well with the Neo Marines, they had referred her to their friends. She had dozens of client
s, so many she had been forced to hire on two assistants and rent office space. She was a bright spot on the employment, small start ups like hers expanding to take on new roles.

  The matriarch encouraged the Neo's in the military to marry in order to transfer as many civilian Neo's to base housing, away from Anvil and the hated Neo/alien life support tax.

  Some Neo's and alien families would follow their spouses to Agnosta when military transport was available in the future. That was a big bright spot on the horizon.

  Chapter 19

  A special election was finally called to replace the delegates who had died with the former speaker or for those who disappeared or were charged with felonies related to the admiral's exile. “It was about time,” Horatio mused as he scanned the news articles. Each special election was a local affair in the individual colonies the delegates and representatives were supposed to serve. Special interests attempted to flood the air waves with propaganda and smear campaigns but some more honest individuals did get elected. “Will wonders never cease. There is some light at the end of the tunnel.”

  “Until their compatriots corrupt them,” Thornby replied with a smile.

  “You are such a pain in the ass, you know that?” Horatio growled. That earned him an even bigger smile.

  “Me, I'm hoping it will shift things a little our way. Or a little further away from Walker. Give us some breathing room or something. I'm sick and tired of the damn knife fighting and corruption. I'm pretty sure John Q public is too,” he growled.

  She nodded. There had been a series of scandals over the past eighteen months since Congress had gaveled into session for the first time. The newly elected promised change and an end to the corruption and gridlock. It was fascinating, seeing them so full of life and promise. Horatio however had heard such things before. But he was reserving judgment, trying to keep from being too cynical. They really could change things.

  Of course the new blood wasn't enough to fully influence the congress but it was a start in the right direction as far as Horatio was concerned. Many of the new delegates and some of the older ones were reported to have bonded over the past two days, forming contacts and tentative alliances. A few were even putting in calls to look him up. That was an interesting twist, either they were serving an olive branch in the hopes of building a contact with him, or for some other reason.

  A few had been assigned to the military oversight committee. He was amused by that. They had no authority over him, the only thing they could do would be to withhold funds... which they were doing anyway. He still hadn't gotten the full amount from the last tax collection. Or the one before that.

  The new committee had called him in for an interview yesterday. It had been a supposedly informal affair, but more than one politician had hinted that maybe he should retire and hand over the reins to someone younger and more pliable. That bothered him.

  He had invited a few of the more friendly representatives to tours of the yard as well as some of the ships. A few had graciously agreed immediately, a few others had cautiously backed off, stating they had to check their calendars before responding to such a request.

  It was curious which would use the tours as a photo op for their own ends. Hopefully the smarter ones would save that sort of nonsense and ego stroking for near the end of the tour. He had no intention of letting journalists tag along for the entire tour, nor stopping every ten minutes for pictures. He made a note to only tour areas with a view of nonsensitive areas.

  Of course each of them promised the problems with the credits would be ironed out just as soon as they got on their feet and he weathered the assorted hearings and other procedures. He didn't have high hopes of anything happening anytime soon.

  He knew the general idea of a committee, it was a collection of individuals gathered together to avoid collective responsibility for a problem, or to avoid solving said problem. A favorite euphemism of his time was to kick the can down the road and make it someone else's problem. He hadn't been certain Walker and his cronies had known that trick until they empaneled blue ribbon committees to investigate the Vesta incident. They had come forward clearing all involved in the incident and labeled it as 'an unfortunate misunderstanding for all involved.' Of course no charges had been filed.

  The next general election was scheduled in nine months. Half of the congress was up for election then, the other half wouldn't face their electorate for another two standard years and nine months. They would be joined by Governor Walker.

  Walker would be lucky if he managed to remain in office that long. So far he had beaten off two attempts to impeach him by steering the bill to a committee to be tabled in the congress and one recall drive by the public. He had gotten off on a technicality. It was annoying that he managed to get the recall effort derailed by pointing out that the font size was too small. All signatures to put the recall on the ballot had to be tossed. Of course the proponents of the recall effort only redoubled their efforts after that sort of slap in the face.

  This new investigation into the disappearance of his secretary Nancy O'Dell might be the last nail in his coffin. The governor's office was making all sorts of noises about being open and honest with investigators, but behind closed doors sources told a completely different story. And those same closed door sessions were starting to make their way into the media presentations. Walker had so far dodged implications in her disappearance, but that might not matter for long.

  Horatio frowned as he read another request then looked up to the view screen. April was there, talking while holding a microphone in front of her. “Miss O'Neill seems to have bounced back,” Horatio said, sitting back and looking on.

  The yeoman turned to the view cast and then back to his boss. “It seems that way sir. I believe that's her request?”

  “Yes. She wants to interview Valenko's squad.”

  “Why?”

  “I'm assuming it was because they were on top, but it may also involve their action on Agnosta... or she could be fishing for more. She's a good influence for us though, us meaning the navy,” Horatio said.

  “That she is sir. Are you going to allow it?”

  “Well, I think she's getting heartily tired of interviewing naval personnel. She's not interested in tech, more interested in people. I'm sure we can work something out,” Horatio replied.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jethro was ordered to do an interview with April O’Neill a week after his first lecture and a few days after the special elections were finished. Apparently the reporter had been working her way through various prominent figures in the military and was now focusing on the Marines. The panther did a bit of background check on her and was impressed with what he had found out about her.

  She was beautiful in a human way. She had a frisky attitude, a lively smile and sparkling blue eyes. Her flame red hair has regrown since her return nine months ago on Destiny, and it was even more silky and fluffy than before, though it was short, not quite shoulder length. She had some work done, her yellow jumper was still a trademark but she now wore matching yellow boots. She seemed to be a living flame, beautiful and alive. He could see why the admiral had taken a shine to her.

  “Nervous?” she asked, smiling politely as he took a seat on the seat she had set up for him.

  “Does it show?” Jethro asked, slashing his tail. He didn't understand why they had insisted he do this, if he was supposed to be a secret, why the interview? Sometimes what the brass did made no sense.

  “A bit.”

  “I'm sorry you didn't get more time with the admiral. You sound like a nice person ma'am. Good for him,” he said.

  So you've met?” she asked, smiling a dazzling smile. Normally a Neo would be on guard by such a show of teeth, but there was genuine humor and interest in her lively eyes.

  “Yes ma'am,” he said. “Briefly, just before I enlisted. He announced it when I was in the infirmary and I signed on.”

  “Ah,” she said nodding. She looked at his fruit sala
d, his list of campaign and award ribbons on his left lapel. “Quite the salad,” she said.

  “I've had a busy couple of years ma'am,” Jethro replied.

  “Yes, let's talk about that,” she said, crossing her knees and picking up her tablet. She tapped the stylus against her full lips briefly as she scanned the document.

  Jethro tried to ignore the hovering cameras around them. It was easier than he had thought it would be, after his experience with sensor balls he had learned when to tune them out.

  He realized she had gotten him to lower his guard almost immediately. She asked about each ribbon and he explained them, then expanded on the story when she gently prodded him for more details.

  He answered questions, explaining each incident and what happened. He stuck to his orders, keeping his cloak a secret.

  He was humble, which was amusing to her. He kept the report simple and dry, a stiff report of the engagement, no attempts at glorifying his own part in it.

  “So, a Sergeant, E-5. I salute you on your recent promotion.”

  “Thank you ma'am.”

  “With all this new blood, it must be interesting, lively even.”

  “It is ma'am. We've received four new personnel to the squad after an equal number were promoted to other squads or assigned to other duties. But we've managed to remain on top, through hard work and a bit of luck. Recon rocks,” he said, smiling a little.

  “Yes, I had heard that your recon squad was quite good. Number one,” she said, smiling.

  “Recon is the cream of the crop ma'am. We don't accept excuses, we work hard. Each of us train daily, sometimes around the clock.”