Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (39 page)

“I...see,” Jethro yawned again, fighting the lethargy. He looked on. Fortunately he wasn't far from the hatch to the armory now.

“I strongly suggest you read over what the Admiral uploaded to you in your implants. You'll begin to understand what you are going through then. I do wish he'd taken the time to brief you in more detail before diving into this, but he was on a tight time crunch,” Firefly sighed.

“Ours is not to reason why, sir, just follow orders,” Jethro said, or at least tried to as he keyed the hatch open. He stepped through and then went to the hatch to unsuit.

“Hang on a minute, Gunny; as I said, you should read the files the Admiral sent you. But for now, don't take the suit off. Just relax,” the ship AI said as the panther paused.

Jethro was fighting the suit suddenly, surprised. He snarled, now coming awake at being balked. He didn't like being a prisoner in his own suit. He fought it, wrestling, feeling trapped. Panic raced through him; it spiraled about him. He felt a phantom touch, something cuddling with him and meowing insistently. The eyes on the HUD were wide eyed in fright.

“Easy,” he murmured, realizing some of the emotions were not his own. “Easy,” he murmured again. “Okay, so um...” he felt himself relax, his fur and muscles unknotting slowly. The phantom touches were still there, something...he closed his eyes as he felt another cat cheek rub him. It was small, but insistent. It head butted him and purred. The eyes took up his whole vision. “Okay, okay, you win. For now,” Jethro murmured.

“I take it you are having an internal conversation? You can do that without broadcasting it, Gunny,” Firefly said.

“Sorry, sir. Sir, I know you're busy. I'll um, rack out here for now.”

“For now. You've got a half shift, and then the space will be needed. The new crew needs to be outfitted with skinsuits. Riley and a few volunteers will be here an hour before their shift starts to set up.”

“I'll... try to get out of their way, sir,” Jethro said. He turned in place, glad he could finally move. He found a corner and slumped into it. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

“Fine Gunny. I'll let Sergeant Riley know.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jethro mumbled and then nodded off.

Firefly watched the compartment sensors as the panther seemed to relax in place. After a moment he saw a set of eyes hover over the suit protectively. “Hello Bast, I'm just checking on him. He's a good Marine,” Firefly said. The eyes watched him, then looked away. The ship AI felt a tug on his attention and closed the link.

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

“Time to wake up, Gunny,” Firefly said from the overhead. “This space is going to be needed shortly, and they don't need to be tripping over you. And the less questions about you the better,” the AI said. When Jethro didn't react the ship AI isolated the compartment's sound system and then hit the klaxon. That sound startled Jethro awake as his training kicked in. He winced, then flicked his tail. After a moment he yawned and his eyes opened.

“Sorry, sir,” he mumbled.

The ship AI Firefly was the only person on board Jethro could talk to about the AI, Jethro remembered as he got up and stretched. He was also an officer, so he had to be mindful of that rank gulf.

Firefly had always tried to be approachable to some degree with the crew, the better to create a bond and sounding board when needed. He was in the chain of command, but in some ways stood outside of it.

“Get up. Go eat and clear the suit. Recharge it later. You haven't moved about, but I bet you've used a lot of energy just with the processors,” the ship AI said. “Make sure you drink plenty of fluids. The nanites are keeping you from dehydrating, but it's a good idea to replenish the water with a fresh supply to allow your body to get rid of waste products. And you need more supplements and minerals,” the AI said. “Part of that tired feeling is a lack of food.”

“Yes, sir,” Jethro said, going through the motions as he got to his feet and moved out. He felt better as he made his way to the mess. More awake, alert, though he wasn't sure for how long. He keyed the helmet off, ignoring the soundless protest from Bast. He took a breath of fresh air, then another. He nodded to a Marine in passing and then kept moving.

He had strange feelings, curiosity he realized weren't completely his own. His head and sensors darted about on their own, scanning this and that with a sense of wonder which amused him. After he ate though he felt tired again. “Now what? I can't keep doing this,” he sighed.

“Go get cleaned up. The nearest head is down the companionway and on the starboard side. When you've finished, let me know,” Firefly said.

“Thank you, sir, for being so helpful. I don't mean to be a bother,” Jethro said.

“I know you don't, Gunny. And yes, I am very busy, but I have my orders too. Don't worry about it,” Firefly responded.

Jethro did his business in the head and then stepped out. “Done,” he said, sending a signal to the ship's AI. Bast wanted to close his helmet, but he fought the urge. He realized she was acting shy; she only wanted to close the helmet when other people were near. “It's okay,” he murmured softly, trying to reassure the AI.

As he looked around he noted a feeling of interest, of...kittenish delight at everything. Everything seemed new, yet old. The eyes on his HUD were bigger, brighter. They seemed to dart around to look at things. His suit had a mind of its own, constantly pulling him off to see something. He learned after fighting it to just go with it. He looked like a drunk to a few people. Commander Firefly intervened and ordered the crew to carry on.

“I'm going to go to the troop bay, sir,” Jethro said.

“You may want to reconsider that; the Marine troop bay is rather full and in use,” Firefly said. Jethro stopped. The ship AI redirected him to an unused closet.

Jethro keyed the closet open. There was a janitor droid in the corner, some supplies, but not much else. “In here, sir?” He asked, sounding doubtful.

“In there. As the old saying goes, any port in a storm Marine,” Firefly said. “Don't tell me you can't sleep anywhere? You're a Marine,” the AI teased.

“Yes, sir. Just...I don't want to get into trouble or anything. I don't want to be reported AWOL.”

“You aren't. I've got your back son. Just get in there and relax,” the AI said.

Jethro got in, closed the hatch behind him and then sat. His vision adjusted to the stygian darkness.

The panther felt his partner's disappointment, then yawn. After a moment she started to get sleepy. He did as well.

He tried to stay awake to read some of the files the Admiral had uploaded to him. It didn't make sense. After a couple of pages his mind drifted and he too fell into a doze.

Chapter 18

Captain J.G., acting Commodore Firefly, was busy, busier than the AI had ever been. He'd had a brief exchange with Commander Sprite, a sort of catching up, with an exchange of logs and then a large amount of orders, note files, tutorials, and even a few suggestions. The AI skimmed the digests, some were encrypted, but others he noted were open for all. Some were even directed to the various colleges.

The ship AI was still up nearly maxed out on his computing capacity. There was just too much to do and the clock was ticking exorbitantly downward to zero, the time they had to depart.

What bothered Firefly the most was that there were no orders to that effect yet. Not in regards to most of the ships in the fleet. He checked the status, using his newly acquired flag rank. Many of the ships were functional again, in fact most were. But some were barely functional, ships like Xavier, the Arboth destroyer, or the Antelope destroyer, formally known as the
Cream de Corsair
and rechristened the Mary Apple after the newly deceased former Captain of the destroyed corvette Romeo.

The ship's AI was fortunate though; if he was busy, he knew Commander Sprite was doubly so. The admiral's chief aide and adjunct was everywhere, overseeing the repairs, the crew shuffling and integration, coordinating the logistics, and overseeing the intelligence gathering. The AI was even cooking off dumb AI for the various warships, while also interfacing with the Admiral in the replications efforts.

Was the Admiral considering a suicidal frontal attack on the Horathian empire Firefly wondered? It was possible, the AI thought, checking the tankers in the small rag tag fleet. They had the fuel to get them to Finagle, one jump away from Horath. But they'd have to refuel there, and if they ran into an enemy fleet along the way...it would be ugly, the AI realized. He didn't have the spare processing power to run sims, which bothered him, but he knew it wouldn't be good. No, they had a fleet train and some of the ships were barely held together. No, something else was afoot.

Firefly was certain the lack of orders wasn't due to the Admiral keeping anything under wraps, he was probably still wrestling with his own conscience while trying to decide what to do. The smart move would be to return to Pyrax, at least initially. There he could take control of the military forces, and if necessary, declare martial law, order investigations, and have a general political house cleaning there.

The AI realized that was something he, and probably a lot of the military people wanted, but not necessarily the proper thing. It would definitely skirt the constitution, and he knew from past experience the Admiral was loath to tamper with a democracy. No, Admiral Irons was going to do something else. What, was the question.

The AI decided to turn it into an experiment in perspective. He applied what the Admiral knew from their intelligence digests as well as the updates he had passed along. Two things struck out right away—the increased activity and formal fleets the Horathians had put together and the means they were doing that. Specifically, the new construction that bothered the ship AI as well. The ship AI and no doubt the crew had passed on stories and reports of their adventures, including the First Agnosta Marine Expedition, the bases the Marines had built there, and the near shut down of the Yard. The AI judged all would be relevant to the Admiral's decision, including the recruiting posts on Gaston and other worlds. After a second of processing in between indexing one of Oasis's memory files the AI judged there were two actions the Admiral could do.

One, the Admiral could return to Pyrax, ignore the politicians, and build up for war. He could rebuild his fleet, resupply it, then strip it to the bone and then head in to enemy space for a final confrontation. Or what Firefly hoped would be a final confrontation.

He judged that approach suboptimal based on the Admiral's past behavior and what intelligence they had available. They had confirmed reports Horath had capital ships, at least three, possibly more. They were defensive, none had active hyperdrives according to their sources, but that just meant they couldn't run if the Fleet came in to hammer Horath flat. The resulting battle or battles plural would be...ugly. Not on the order of the Xeno war, but close enough, the ship AI judged.

The other option, the one he judged most likely, was that the Admiral would split their fleet. He would sent the worst damaged ships and most of the civilians back with Firefly to Pyrax, while he went on to another location. Most likely Antigua, judging from the Admiral's anticipated reaction to Captain Mayweather's message from Governor Randall. She had waited to pass it on until this moment the ship AI noted. They hadn't discussed it, but he judged the Captain was of the same mind he was, the Admiral belonged in Antigua, where he could do the most good.

The ship AI noted the Admiral's approach and judged his mood as on a precipice. With the right nudge he'd go over the edge. Hopefully this would work, he thought.

“Antigua was quite different Admiral,” Firefly said as the human entered the wardroom.

“Now you're reading my mind Captain?” Irons asked dryly.

“Excuse me?” the ship AI asked, momentarily confused. Sprite chuckled.

“Never mind. You were saying,” he asked as he took a seat.

“Admiral, Antigua has changed. They were hit, not as bad as what you've told us about Hidoshi and the other worlds, but bad enough. Thousands dead on the station and on the planet.”

“I see,” the Admiral said softly.

“They've turned over a new leaf. We've left them a lot of ships and a skeleton crew to grow around. I know Commander Logan, excuse me;
Captain
Logan was planning on sending a relief mission to send supplies and to recall Fuentes. I have a personal message from Governor Randall to you, sir,” Captain Mayweather said, looking him in the eye. “He wants you back, sir. He's apologizing for what he did, and is desperate for you to return.”

“Desperate,” the Admiral said.

“Sounds about right. You fought the enemy off. I'm surprised he's not blowing it over,” Sprite said.

“He's changed, Commander,” Mayweather said. “I didn't get a lot of time to talk with the man, but I did get a sense of him. He's cut from a different cloth than Walker. He's...I don't know, cleaner.”

“I'll bet.”

“Give them a chance, Admiral, they may surprise you. This Randall sounded sincere, and at least he's not a snake like the one we've got in Pyrax.”

“True.”

Irons mused over that. Randall had been a pain in the ass when the Admiral had been there, but he had genuinely not wanted the Admiral to leave. He was technically the lesser of two political evils. His personal message from Randall with a formal apology had been nice.