Jethro 3: No Place Like Home

by Chris Hechtl

  Doctor Standish was busy; the Infirmary was still swarming with people. “I usually insist my patients not be in armor,” the Doctor quipped. “But Commander, excuse me, Commodore,” he looked up with a flash of amusement. “Firefly told me it was important. Though I don't know how I can perform a physical on you in that...” He shook his head wryly.

  “Just an implant check,” the ship AI said from the overhead. “If you please doctor.”

  “I suppose so,” the doctor said. He jacked into the panther's suit. Jethro wrestled with Bast's indignant squall over the intrusion before she read the doctor's IFF. After a moment she settled down again.

  Doctor Standish did a quick implant check and then frowned thoughtfully. He turned away, studying his tablet. The ship AI spoke with him briefly through his implants and then he nodded. “All right. You can return to work, but light duty mind you,” the doctor warned, brandishing a finger. “If you feel sleepy or moody, get some downtime.”

  “I don't understand that,” the panther replied.

  “It's a part of the bonding. And your body needs time to adjust. The AI is still growing her own nerves into your body and that takes time to adjust to.”

  “Oh.”

  “Read the packet of information the Admiral gave you if you haven't already,” Firefly ordered.

  “I tried sir; it was dry. I set it up for a sleep teach, but...” Jethro shrugged.

  “I unfortunately can't access the files. Classified. Just block out the time, perhaps on the flight and read what you can.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “And yes I know, reading it is one thing, comprehending it is something else all together. Your education doesn't quite meet the foundation needed to understand the underlying concepts there.”

  Jethro shrugged. “What's to know, sir? I have an AI in me, and it takes adjusting. The specifics I may not understand, or need to know. But I do wish there was some sort of index and FAQ so I could ask questions and not hunt for them.” He shook his head. “If I can remember them.”

  “I see.”

  “She's settling down, sir, honest.”

  “Well, the next shuttle doesn't leave for another shift. Get some food and rest, I've uploaded it to you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jethro said.

  “Good luck, Marine,” Doctor Standish said, clapping him on the armored arm. Jethro hopped off the gurney and left the infirmary.

  On his way to the mess something grabbed his attention. He frowned, not concerned, Bast seemed interested in everything. But she seemed to want his attention for once, which was even odder. “Finally going to talk to me?” he asked, focusing on the eyes.

  She made a merow sound and then her eyes looked down. He followed her gaze until something blinked into existence on his HUD, a link. “FAQ,” He read. “You did this?” He asked looking at the AI's eyes. There was a sleepy contented and amused look there. He nodded. “Thanks.”

  He felt and heard her purr briefly before he moved on.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Valenko had his hand paws full with the liner. His Marines were tasked with guarding the prisoners, but apparently, since they were short handed across the board, that wasn't enough for the Navy crew. Ox he didn't mind loosing, the Tauren was quite an engineer, and he knew his gifts would be put to good use in main engineering. But the bear knew more than one Marine resented pulling double or even triple shifts when the Navy crew were only doing singles or one and a half. He'd tried to talk to the acting Captain but the Veraxin had been busy.

  Getting Jethro back would be good. It would help him out, and he did miss the cat. He wasn't sure what had gone on, or if something had gone wrong, but at least the panther was returning to duty soon.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Jethro spent, what he hoped was his last night in the closet before he went to the mess for breakfast. He was quiet, still tired after a long night. He'd tried to read the FAQ, but Bast had pestered him with stuff, flashing images of things he'd passed.

  From the FAQ he'd found that she was going through a why phase, one of many she would go through and he would have to endure. She was curious, and helping her by answering them and remaining patient would not only further her development and social skills along, but it would also further their bond. He wasn't sure about that, but he'd try to keep an open mind. So far she'd tested his patience a few times, but after training with Gunny Schultz and being a DI himself, he could put up with it. At least hopefully until she grew out of it, whenever that was.

  When he'd finally gone down for the night she'd kept him awake for a while with the images until he responded. She still didn't talk, but he was understanding her probes more. When he woke the next morning she pestered him with odd flashes until he realized it was his dreams.

  He ate quickly, then policed his tray and moved on, ignoring the sidelong looks from the crew. He checked his HUD and then stepped up his pace, he had less than an hour before the shuttle left. He headed to the troop deck.

  He'd found out one thing that had bothered him, why did he need the suit. He'd thought the AI was in the suit, he was wrong. Well, not totally it seemed. She was split, with her core processors in him, but some of her higher functions in the suit. He wasn't a tech, he wasn't sure what to make of that. But it seemed the longer they were together the more she integrated, the faster she developed. Which in his mind was a good thing, but according to the FAQ not totally. It seemed if they remained in the suit for too long it would develop an emotional dependency on wearing it all the time...for life. He wasn't certain he wanted that. Also, if she grew too fast it could damage her stability. Again, not good.

  Eventually he'd have to wean Bast and himself out of the suit, starting with short periods of time, and then longer as needed. He did have to admit, the AI did make his life even more complicated. He felt her send a wordless apology to him. He shrugged. “Not your fault Bast, we'll deal with it,” he murmured. He felt her purr of contentment once more.

  She was like a baby, needing reassurance, love and attention. That was something new to him, he'd gotten along with the kits, he'd even liked playing with them in the crèche, but he'd just visited, he hadn't stayed long. Dealing with the situation constantly was hard at first, but he hoped it would get easier. He certainly hadn't been a parent, nor expected to act like a surrogate one to an AI. In some ways he felt trapped, but knew he would have to make the best of it. He knew better than to resent the situation, after all, he'd put the Admiral up to it.

  He cleared out his gear from his locker and rack. Someone had dumped it in a duffel and then stored it in a janitor's closet in the troop bay so it didn't take long. The panther was annoyed at the lack of respect, but realized they probably didn't know any better, and besides, they needed the space.

  Behind him, the new Marine recruits, all humans and all former slaves, complained of the animal smells as he got there to bag his gear. Most of the original Marine compliment were off on the various ships manning them or on the prison liner. They shut up when he growled at them. His golden glittering eyes made a few gulp. He brushed past them and out of the troop bay.

  He caught the last shuttle and arrived on the prison liner near the graveyard shift. He was still in his armor which raised a few polite eyebrows. It made an immediate impression. “A bit overdressed, Gunny?” PFC Hart asked. The guy was a bit of a smart ass, but he had his shit down, so Jethro ignored it. He did note the new rocker. Apparently everyone had gotten another bump. He wasn't sure about the wisdom of that, but he didn't have a say in it, so he ignored it.

  “Orders. I'm in the suit for a while,” Jethro replied curtly, not really in the mood to talk. He was still getting a handle on the armor and changes in his life. He thought he'd itch from wearing it for so long, but apparently the nanites took care of that for him. He still wanted to scratch sometimes though. He also had to watch his tail, since it was armored it could do damage to something if he flicked it hard enough.

  “
Oh?” The PFC asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Never mind. OPSEC. Classified,” Jethro replied, waving his free hand.

  The private blinked in confusion and then his face cleared. “You...okay...”

  “I don't have a choice,” Jethro sighed. “And yes, I'll be in it twenty-four-seven for probably most of the flight.”

  “Oh. So I get to hear you stomping around. Joy. What about the rack?” He shook his head. “Hell, shower?”

  “I've learned I can sleep standing in this thing,” Jethro replied dryly. “Though I'd rather sit on the deck. Don't ask about a shower.”

  “Ah, well, your problem I suppose,” Hart said, now sounding amused but sympathetic. “We're shorthanded across the board. You'll be manning a watch as well as guard duty, Gunny, just to let you know,” the brown-haired human said. He grimaced in thought but continued. “We've got six officers on board, two of em Marines, Lieutenant Valenko and Ensign Esh'z. Esh'z is that Veraxin spook. The other Veraxin officer is Lieutenant J.G. Tr'j'ck who is our acting Captain. You'll probably never see him; he rarely leaves the bridge. Ensign Esh'z has been busy interviewing and cross referencing stuff. He spends a lot of time either in his office going over shit or trying to interview the prisoners.” Hart grimaced. “They sure don't like him or the other aliens for that matter.”

  “Their problem,” Jethro said.

  “Well, I'm betting you're not high up on their friends list either, Gunny,” Hart said. “But in that suit, yeah, their problem. Since the Ensign is busy, well...I'm going to bet a lot of his load will fall on you once the powers that be know you're here. Lucky you.”

  Jethro stilled for a moment. “Shit,” he said quietly. He looked at Bast. The AI was asleep surprisingly. The Admiral's brief had said the AI would spend odd times asleep or awake. He was getting used to having her look over her shoulder, for the most part she didn't say or do anything. But she liked to be awake when he needed rack time, which meant she was a pain in the ass badgering him with emotions and images when he wanted to just rest. And she picked apart his dreams in the morning, which was weird. But at least she no longer insisted he sleep when she did. That was good.

  “Yeah, I bet you wished you were still on Firefly...”

  “No, it's not that,” the panther replied, shaking his head and flicking his ears. “I wanted to be here. It's well, one I'm not that good at manning a watch. And two, I'm not comfortable showing my suit to the enemy.”

  The human eyed him for a long moment and then shrugged. “We'll have to work something out. Though I have to admit, they see you in that thing and they'll piss themselves.” He grinned. “I'd love to see it.”

  Jethro snorted in response, flicking his ears. After a moment he too smiled slightly. “Me too.”

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Jethro dealt with the usual issues on the ship. The first thing he needed was a deck plan; fortunately Hart had uploaded one to him before he'd left him behind. He followed it to where the Marines were bunking, then redirected himself to a nearby empty cabin. Apparently, since they had the room to spare he could have his own room to himself since he was a noncom. That was probably a good thing he realized.

  He entered the cabin and looked around. It was surprisingly plush with purple carpet in some sort of fresco pattern and a rather large bed. Mirrors were on one wall, and another sported a full-sized smart wall. He nodded, dropping his bag on the bed. There was a dresser built into one wall, and a small door led to a head. He took a peek, wincing at the blindingly white walls. He shook his head and left the room.

  One of the first things to do now that he'd gotten his gear in a room was report in. He sent an e-mail to Valenko with a report of his quarters. Valenko sent back a quick reply to get squared away.

  Familiarizing himself with the ship was easy; he had the map after all. It was impossible to get lost with it in his implants and suit. The ship was over two kilometers long, intended to haul thousands of passengers of almost any of the common species across the void. It was quiet, smelled a bit in some places, but nice in a sort of grungy sort of way. He made a mental note to organize GI parties for those Marines who weren't wise enough to keep a low profile when off duty or just couldn't stay out of trouble.

  The ship had a lot of places to prowl; he made a note to search the ship again. There was no telling what he'd find, and he wondered if the Marines had swept it well enough. After all, if he could think of at least two or three places sensor scans wouldn't penetrate, he was fairly certain the Horathians could as well. He bumped that up a bit on his priority list. Apparently everyone was taking for granted that the ship was secure and clean. All hands were busy getting the ship ready for flight.

  Well, once things wound down, he intended to suggest some drills. A safety and fire drill for one but also security drills. One could never be too careful. He frowned thoughtfully. Really, they all deserved a rest, and it would be unfair to dump it all on the crew and Marines after he'd had his unintended downtime.

  But then he smiled evilly. Life in the Corps wasn't about fair, it was about getting the job done and done right. “Right way, wrong way, Navy way,” he murmured. He dodged a bot floating down the companionway.

  Bots and drones were all over the place, apparently the work of Ox, Chief Chowler, Sergeant Riley, and the Admiral. The Admiral had approved the manufacturing of the mechs and drones to help with their manpower issues.

  Getting the computer viruses sorted out had been easier than some had assumed. Once the battle had been finished the AI applied self-destruct codes to some of the viruses or ran antivirus programs. Since they were the ones who had created them, they knew just what damage had been inflicted and where.

  A lot of the computer hardware was being swapped out anyway for newly manufactured equipment; no one really wanted to trust a system that had been compromised, especially in hyperspace. Jethro didn't envy Ox the task ahead of him. The Tauren and the prize crew engineers were going to be busy for weeks. Hell, he'd probably draft Jethro and others with some DCC training to help out, the panther thought wryly.

  He found the mess; they were using the four-tiered dining room instead of one of the crew galleys near the center of the ship. He shrugged as he looked around. The cylinder compartment was opulent, a bit beyond his tastes with the fluted marble columns, gilded fixtures, waterfall chandeliers, and draperies, but nice. He did make a note to remove the damn drapes though. He didn't appreciate seeing the Horathian flag everywhere. That had to go. Marine or Navy flags would replace them or nothing at all he thought, making a note.

  “Lieutenant Valenko, a word?” Jethro sent in a text message.

  “What is it, Gunny?” The bear texted back. “I'm hibernating, or at least trying to,” the bear said, sending him a face with a tongue out. The panther snorted.

  “Sorry, sir, just thought you'd have some orders for me.”

  “Check security over. Give me an independent eval when I'm up. Go over the ship; I'd appreciate a second opinion.”

  “Aye aye, sir, prowl and be the big bad, Gunny.”

  “Out. And I do mean out. Out like a light,” the bear replied. “Night.”

  “Night, sir,” Jethro replied.

  As Jethro checked the brigs and set up, he was badgered by Bast. The AI was awake, and a little playful and into her why phase. He realized she had questions about the therapy session when she started feeding him images of what he'd seen. He was so distracted he nearly stumbled on a curl of carpet. He paused. “What? What are you getting at? I so wish you'd talk,” Jethro sighed.

  The AI seemed confused by the image of the crying woman, replaying it over and over. He tried to do his best to explain it. “Look Bast, what we saw was...well, an invasion of privacy. A private moment for those people. They were trying to heal, both mentally and physically.”

  She was puzzled, emitting a confused merow. “There are bad people out there, bad people who wanted to harm them, and did. They are sick, some really sick.” He tried to ex
plain when she didn't let up, telling her quietly that the people were badly treated. “They are victims okay? People who suffered greatly at the hands of the pirates. They survived though, but scarred mentally and physically. Now they are trying to cope, to get back on track. Talking about it, talking in a group helps. It shares the feelings, gets them out, lets you know others know, they feel the same pain, they support you.”

  The eyes blinked at him and then looked away. He sighed heavily. “It's...it is my....our job to save them. Sometimes we succeed, but we can't be everywhere, you know? We can't...look we can't save everyone. I wish we could. I wish we could spare her pain, but at least she's safe now,” Jethro said quietly. He felt the AI, a phantom touch as she cuddled against him and then drifted into a nap.

  He hoped the images that had come up in his mind didn't disturb her. He turned, and moved on. Since he had his suit on and had the free time, he decided a deck by deck check, compartment by compartment would be in order. He wasn't sure if he would find anything, but he could do it.

  As he moved through the ship he became increasingly disturbed, and then angered by what he found. He tried to put a damper on his reactions, knowing they would wake Bast. The last thing he wanted was for the AI to wake and ask questions he didn't want to answer. He shook his head, looking at a room filled with gruesome devices. The smell of blood and death was nearly overwhelming. He closed his helmet and clutched at his C-42 Impaler. He wanted to...he turned away as the AI stirred. No, he'd have to keep a lid on it, he thought. He realized now why the Marines hadn't said they'd done a full search or hadn't done a follow up. Some things...some things you just didn't want to see again.

  Chapter 19

  “Does this mean I'm losing you finally, Commander?” Mayweather asked, turning an inquiring eye to her exec. Word had gotten around about the promotions. There was an excited feel in the air; everyone wondered where lightening would strike next.