Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (35 page)

“It's cadre sir. I know that. Synthetic biology. A biological computer of some sorts growing inside me and linked to the armor,” Jethro said. “It's primitive. It's taken control of the suit on its own.”

Irons felt his lips pucker slightly in a smile. “It seems you've guessed the broad strokes. You want me to fill in the blanks?”

“If you can, sir. I'd also like to know if it was why I was allowed to become a Marine, sir,” he said with just a hint of curiosity and resentment.

The Admiral pondered that as he received a report from Firefly. It was encrypted. He set it aside; he'd read it later. “You impressed me young man, even before I knew your heritage. I showed you the door, you came through it on your own, and you've done well. I'm a bit busy, but I can block some time out on the transit back.”

“Back?”

“I'm not ready for that to be brooded about. I can transfer you to Maine, and we can discuss it.”

“Sir,...what about my squad?” Jethro asked warily.

“Just you. Your squad is needed to cover the prisoners and help run the captured ships,” Irons replied, studying the young man. He knew he had just put the young cat in an unenviable place, torn between curiosity and concern about his own body and his friends and comrades. Duty.

“Sir,...my place is with my squad. We were hammered in Antigua, and I've got some really green rookies still.”

“I understand. Well, there will be other times, Sergeant. I will make certain of that,” Irons replied with a nod.

“Thank you, sir. That's all I ask, honesty,” Jethro said, coming to attention and saluting.

The Admiral returned the salute and then broke it. “Dismissed,” he said softly. Jethro nodded once and then returned to his post.

---( | ) --- ( | )---

A week after the battle four hundred of the twelve hundred former slaves were sufficiently rested and recovered enough to demand a return to duty or even to enlist in the military. The Admiral had anticipated the interest and had set up recruiters with the AI to interview candidates. They worked closely with the medics, who were not at all certain most of the people would be ready to serve.

“Well, they have to do something. Just sitting around and moping won't do. Work will do them good. A return to freedom will wake some of them up and remind them that they had better work hard to keep their freedom,” Ian replied.

Irons had called a meeting to deal with some of the issues or at least air them out. He had a sizable fleet now, larger than the one in Pyrax, but raw. He had hammered it; now it was time to bring some order to it all.

Three hundred ninety people signed on to the Marines and the Navy. To oversee them, the Admiral ordered a complex exchange of personnel and equipment. Firefly's experienced crew served not only as a template but also a source for noncom and commissioned crew for the other ships. Some of the people were promoted out of the zone to fill positions on the other ships. His objective was to have every surviving ship manned by a minimal skeletal crew. There were some holes when he was done, but most of the important positions were covered.

He tried to limit his poaching and lessen Captain Mayweather's good-natured grumbling over his activities but knew they were inevitable. She caught up with him as he tore into Maine's hyperdrive repair.

“I should be used to it by now I suppose,” she said in a mock grumble. He chuckled silently. He had taken her crew down to bedrock. She had less than forty trained crew left on her ship. Even the Marines had been pressed into service; those that weren't guarding the various brigs were manning posts all over the fleet.

He was tempted to take Shelby, but he had other plans for her in mind. It was past time to get Prometheus flying.

“Take good care of them will you?” she asked. He nodded absently.

---( | ) --- ( | )---

For his sins Jethro was temporarily pressed into service to evaluate the new recruits and initiate their training. It was brief; most had not fully recovered enough to any sort of physically demanding effort he judged. Many were mentally fragile, and he reported that to Major Pendeckle and Captain Mayweather. Both immediately had him back off and take a soft hand approach to training.

“The last thing we want is to break them. We need them, right now, badly.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Doctor Standish is going to be a mite put out over having more things to do,” Firefly joked. The organics looked at the AI avatar. “I mean, augmenting the new personnel.”

“I would suggest identifying packages only sir. We...we don't really know how many are committed to going the distance right now. In my professional opinion I'd suggest that route. Lessen the initial investment until we know more of their temperament,” Jethro suggested.

“In your professional judgment, Gunny?” Major Pendeckle teased, pursing his lips.

Jethro came to attention stiffly. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“At ease, Jethro, I'm just yanking your chain. I agree with you,” the Major said nodding to the Captain. She nodded back. “For now, most really don't need the full course treatment anyway. We can't give them all make-work though, we're too shorthanded. So I need a psychological list, an assessment of who can handle what, what skills they have, and any training or experience.”

“Psychological list on those who have bounced back the fastest, ma'am?” Firefly asked.

“Yes, and who to avoid,” the Captain said.

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

“Good. Get on it.”

---( | ) --- ( | )---

The factory ship Carnegie chewed up the derelict ships and made great strides in repairing the battle damage as did the replicators on the ships. Once the wrecked ships were finished, the factory ship's teams were put to work on Phoenix and Lassie. Both ships were devoured by the molecular furnaces in a day. Scuttlebutt said that Admiral Irons had looked on when they had begun work on the two ships, and had been quiet most of the day.

The Admiral seemed to bounce back; however, he was busy everywhere. He used his implants to manufacture industrial replicators, molecular furnaces and other manufacturing equipment. That quickly expanded their industrial capacity, allowing the repairs to move at twice their previous speed.

Jethro frowned at the work. As a Marine he really couldn't do much to help, and in a way that was annoying. Sure he had some damage control training, and he was doing shifts in engineering on Firefly, but most of it was just playing a warm body in an empty slot.

He listened to the scuttlebutt, however, trying to keep a lead on where the Admiral was. He intended to speak with him again as soon as possible. But the Admiral was going full tilt, bouncing between ships to initialize replicators and get reactors and computer networks back online.

One thing Jethro and the cooks on Firefly did appreciate was the food replicators coming online on the other ships. Some had used their stores; a lucky few had had food replicators, though they had been in mixed condition. But since the battle Firefly's various galleys had been pressed into supplying food to as much of the fleet as possible. Now that was coming to an end. Cookie seemed to have lost ten kilos and seemed grateful. Jethro snorted as he took his tray and moved on.

He was still slated for duty on the Oasis, but so far the transfer had been delayed. He was glad; the Admiral had visited the ship once and then moved on, declaring her hyperspace worthy. That probably meant he wouldn't return again.

Besides, his armor was here on Firefly. Now he just needed the Admiral here too. With free time, he thought with a pang.

---( | ) --- ( | )---

Firefly’s infirmary helped with the injured, and then switched to augmentation of the crews of the other ships once most of their charges had recovered sufficiently to return to limited or full duty. The medics had come a lot way since Doctor Richards and Doctor Thornby's first efforts, now getting up to level three implants. Doctor Standish built off of the Admiral's nanite implants. They trained an eager Doctor Glenn and his wife on the various procedures.

They started with the basic information implants and prioritized the other augmentation procedures on a case-by-case basis.

---( | ) --- ( | )---

They had a short window, another week before Firefly had to head back or she would be considered overdue. Irons pursed his lips thinking hard about his plan. He had to commit, to jump one way or the other. But from the reports Mayweather had passed on, Pyrax was still a political sewer. That left only one option.

He wasn't going to leave Logan and the others high and dry though. Now that they were getting damage control under control and they had a Combat Space Patrol (CSP) out on the perimeter, they were getting down to picking up the remaining scrap. Tugs and robots were out, picking through the spreading wreckage, trying to make the most of the short opportunity.

Carnegie would take it all in, but he had them on the lookout for potential items of intel value. Not just computers, but also items that seemed out of place. Unfortunately, most of the wreckage was just that, scrap. Still, it was worth the effort.

Once things had settled down Sprite insisted on a party to blow off steam. It was a good way for the crew to decompress and get to know one another. Reluctantly, the Admiral agreed.

---( | ) --- ( | )---

Irons sat back watching the celebration and smiled to Firefly. “Feeling the weight yet?” He asked mildly. He had informed the AI of his intentions to promote him to Captain J.G. It was a long time in coming; the AI had spent some time in grade as a Commander and centuries waiting in his lonely vigil. The Admiral had a plan in mind to deal with the potential conflict of interest however, so the rank wouldn't go through just yet.

“I am not sure what you mean. As Commander turned Captain you mean? That is an interesting concept. I believe only a handful of AI have ever risen to directly command a battle group in the entire history of the Federation Admiral. I started out as technically, a dumb AI. I never expected to survive the war, let alone become a smart AI thanks to Commander Sprite, or rise above a Lieutenant Commander's rank to become a Commander during the war. And now this, a Junior Captain's rank. Thank you, sir.”

“Technically, your task force was a single ship so don't get a swelled head. And also, it wasn't exactly a battle group,” Irons said smiling slightly. “And by the way,
you
weren't in command, Mayweather was. And still is,” he reminded the AI. Sprite had reminded him to award the Captain for her valor and leadership in Antigua and in B101a1 first. The medal would come with an automatic bump in rank, pushing her up to full Commander, thus justifying a promotion out of the zone to Captain Junior grade. Sprite had even massaged the paperwork and the timing so Renee was promoted
before
Firefly. Therefore she had him by seniority and date of rank. That little fillip plus the well-deserved medal tidied up any paperwork issues that might crop up in the future if her promotion was questioned. At least he hoped so.

“True,” the AI replied, then cocked his head. “I was wondering if this had some nefarious purpose, Admiral?”

“Oh?” Irons asked, stirring his drink.

“Yes, I believe you left quite a vacuum behind when you left Pyrax.” Irons grimaced. “Which was understandable. You had little control of the situation,” Firefly said.

“Yes.” Irons sighed. “I did want to rectify the chain of command.”

“I believe an organic should be promoted as well.” Firefly said after a moment. He turned to study the view port then back to the Admiral as Irons raised an eyebrow and leaned against his arm.

“And you have a candidate in mind of course?” Irons asked, clearly amused.

“As I said, I believe you had this in mind from the beginning.”

“Quite possibly.”

“In order to build the minimum required Captain's board.” Firefly said.

“Point,” Irons said, nodding ever so slightly.

“As an honorary commodore I could serve on a flag board.”

“Possibly. But we'd need a third person. Right now there aren't any available.” Irons grimaced. “Hell, none we even know of.”

“We could promote Lieutenant Commander Sprite.”

“Pass.” The AI responded, swirling into being near the hatch. She was wearing a formal gown but it was in navy white and sported shoulder boards with her rank insignia. “The Admiral and Trinity come as a unit. We can't separate the entities for a legally justifiable board. It won't wash.” She shook her head. “Undue influence and all that.” She sat on the edge of the desk. “Besides, I'm a Lieutenant Commander. Jumping me up that high would scream nepotism.”

“Which leaves Mayweather,” Firefly replied, turning to the Admiral. “There was considerable precedence for this as well. A battlefield promotion. She's proven herself, Admiral.”

“Talk about...” Sprite frowned as Firefly turned to her. “Okay you are right. But there was a bit of a conflict of interest to be resolved.”

“And a conflict in the chain of command. This also complicates the chain of command in Pyrax, Commander Logan.” Firefly responded.

“And...Oh I get it.” Sprite nodded. “Bootstrap a board.”