Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (40 page)

“What do you think? He's not as bad as Walker. I've read the reports the Captain filed about him,” Sprite said to the Admiral.

“True, he's not Walker. And Antigua is different than Pyrax.”

“From what intel we've got, Randall is the man. Or at least the best we've got, Admiral. If we're going to have a chance in holding this together...”

“All right,” the Admiral said nodding.

“So, more running?” Sprite asked, sounding aggrieved and heartily tired. “You're not planning a frontal assault on Horath are you?” Irons shook his head. “Oh thank the spirits of space for small favors then,” the AI said sounding relieved.

“I'm done running, Sprite.” He frowned. “
We
are done running. It's time to stand and fight.”

“So
are
we returning?” There was a note of excitement in the AI's voice. Almost glee.

“In a manner of speaking. But not to Pyrax.”

“Oh hell, another long jump Admiral? Are you serious? With these ships? They are barely held together with band-aids and bailing wire! Rigging tape still...” Irons held up a hand to halt the complaint.

“No. Not there either. We're returning to the one place we have a hope of standing firm and actually beating the Horathians at their own game. But we're going north by way of Kathy's World. I heard there is a Horathian ship in orbit there.”

Captain Mayweather had picked up that little tidbit during the post battle interviews and computer interrogations. Her intel officer had picked up a partial memo of a ship that had been dispatched with extra soldiers to fulfill the task force's original objectives of taking Protodon and Kathy's World. The ship was a converted freighter, but there was no telling what havoc they could have unleashed on the supine ice planet.

“We'll have to find out what is going on there, and if necessary, liberate them. Or not. We'll see.”

“Antigua?” Sprite asked, sounding suspiciously excited.

“Antigua it is,” he replied with a firm nod.

“Hallelujah! About damn time,” she said with some satisfaction in her voice.

“Don't rub it in, Commander,” he growled.

“Well, I would never say you were slow and pig headed...sir,” Sprite said with a malicious twinkle. He snorted. “But I am glad you finally came around.”

“We'll see. First we've got to get there. And we've got some work here to do beforehand.”

“We are just outside Pyrax...” she suggested.

“No.”

“Just checking,” Sprite said, holding her virtual hands up. He shook his head.

“What about Miss O'Neill?”

“She'll understand,” Irons said quietly.

“So, we're really doing this. Antigua,” Sprite said, testing it out. She sounded as if she didn't quite believe him.

“Antigua,” Irons echoed. “And perhaps a visit into the past,” he said looking directly at her.

Sprite looked uncomfortable for a long time. She had urged him to go there several times. Now that he was willing to pass that Rubicon she was no longer certain it was a good idea. Sometimes the past was left buried. There was no telling what they would find there, and the distraction could prove fatal in more ways than one. “What brought this change? The battle?”

Irons pursed his lips and then shrugged. “It's time to put away ego. We've got a lot more at stake. I was just reminded of it. And well, this,” he waved a hand to the reports floating around him, “That just confirms it.”

“If any of it is true,” Sprite replied.

“I'm betting some of it is. Which means we've got to get our collective acts together and start working together. That means, among other things I need to pack my wounded pride and get with the program.”

“Or we'll all hang separately,” Sprite replied with a moue.

“Nothing concentrates people more than the threat of a hanging,” Irons quoted.

“But the ships...”

“Are going to need a lot of care, work and training. We've got some time on our hands, months in transit. We'll put that to good use. And if you can get over your objections, I'd hope you could help with some AI crew as well.”

“A mother, at my age,” Sprite teased, smiling coyly. “Again.”

“You've got the hips for it,” he teased right back.

Sprite's eyes widened fractionally before she chuckled. “Admiral, that's the first time I've heard you say something like that!”

“Sorry,” he said.

“Don't be. It's all good. I'm glad you are starting to get a handle on things.”

“We need to get the ball rolling.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a lot of work coming,” Sprite said warily.

Irons chuckled. “You know me so well,” he said.

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

Word of the plan hit the scuttlebutt grapevine like a lightning bolt. The crews reacted to the plan in various ways. There was a mix of excitement from some, but also disappointment, a trace of lingering resentment, concern and confusion on Firefly. But there was acceptance from the officers and from those who knew the situation.

There was some debate on who would go where in the mess halls of the various ships. Some of the recovering refugees requested a return to Pyrax, some wanted to join the Admiral in his journey to Antigua. The AI forwarded the requests dutifully. That caused an additional shuffling around of the fleet personnel.

Jethro heard about the intended plan and nodded wisely. He was still adjusting to Bast's presence, but he was now awake longer, more alert. He also realized the AI had been shy, making him sleepy after he had eaten in order to get him out of the area of other people.

Shy or jealous of his contact with others. That had to end, he realized, and decided to do something about it. “So, the suit,” a tech asked.

“It's special. Classified,” Jethro said. “I can't go into detail but...” he shrugged helplessly.

“I'm okay with that I think, sir,” the tech said.

“Gunny. I work for a living,” the panther said, cutting the new tech some slack. Usually you corrected a person if they stuck their foot in their mouth a few times. If they didn't get it, then you had to step up the correction, using a bigger clue stick until they caught on. Most of it was just learning; the protocol would eventually seep in with time and training.

“I'm...I can't get into details, but I've got an AI here with me. She's a bit shy, but she's adjusting.”

“Really?” the tech asked, wide eyed. “An AI in the suit?” he asked, clearly interested.

“Yes,” Jethro said. “She is young and well, adjusting. We've bonded. Look, it's complicated. As I said, I can't get into details. But well, I'm not malingering or anything. It's taking time to adjust.”

“I see,” the tech said, nodding thoughtfully. His eyes were still wide with wonder. “You know, I've heard of AI, it's so...stellar to meet one. I mean, Firefly, excuse me, Captain, no, that's not right,” he said frowning thoughtfully.

“Commodore,” Jethro supplied helpfully. “He's brevetted to Commodore since there can be only one Captain on a ship,” the panther explained patiently.

The tech nodded, face clearing. “Yeah, that's right, sorry. I'm new. I just signed on a couple days ago.”

“It's okay, we'll cut you some slack for a while. You'll get up to speed. You know you're in for some training when you get to Pyrax right?” Jethro asked. The tech nodded. “And probably college work.”

“I know,” the tech said, smiling. Jethro flinched, feeling Bast's fight or flight reflex kick in. He had to remind himself, and her in part, that it was a natural reaction in humans to smile with their teeth showing, not a threat.

“So what are you doing? Coding her?”

“No,” Jethro said, shaking his head. “I'm not trained for that. I'm not an engineer by training.”

“So...”

“I'm a DI. Sniper, shooter, and of course noncom. The suit is old, before the Xeno war,” Jethro said.

The tech's eyes widened again, comically wide. Jethro snorted softly in amusement; he should be used to that reaction he thought. He noted other crewmen, including a couple Marines he didn't recognize were listening in.

“As I said, classified. But well, she's been reinitialized by the Admiral, so we're getting to know one another. Mostly she sleeps a lot.”

“Like a baby,” the tech said. Jethro hit the guy's IFF. He was in his thirties, a tech named space apprentice Gerald Ford. “She's learning and growing. They do that, sleep a lot.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jethro said. He felt a warning text from Commodore Firefly, to not go into further detail. He frowned and then sighed. He hated the classified stuff sometimes. “I'm doing that a lot. So, what's going on with the fleet? What'd I miss?” he asked, picking up a drink and sipping at it.

The tech filled him in enthusiastically, going on about how they'd gotten the ships turned around and how they were splitting up in a couple days. Jethro nodded.

“Ah, here you are Jethro,” a familiar voice said. Jethro turned as the crew in the compartment stiffened. “Stay at ease people,” Major Pendeckle said, waving to the crew. He went over and got a tray of food and then came over to sit next to the panther. “I need to eat, and I needed to chat with you. I figured this kills two birds with one stone,” the Major said, smiling.

The tech and Marines quieted, poking at their meals. Jethro knew they were eavesdropping, but wasn't sure what to do about it. It was their off time, and they were in a public part of the ship.

“Yes, sir,” Jethro said. He felt Bast ping the Major's IFF. He thought it was rude, but then his eyes widened slightly as the rank registered. Apparently, Major Pendeckle was no longer just frocked to Major, the human was now a full Major. “Sir, congratulations on your promotion!” Jethro said.

“Ah, is that why you pinged me?” The Major asked mildly as he scooped his mash potatoes.

“I didn't, sir, um, my partner did.”

The human looked up to him briefly, frowned, and then shrugged. He went back to eating. “I see,” he said after a moment.

Jethro slowed his own eating to let the officer catch up. When the Major was mostly done eating he cocked his head. “So, son, I'm not sure what to do with you.”

“Sir?” Jethro asked, now confused.

“I'm having a hell of a time putting all the round pegs in the right holes. You apparently are one of them. I was going to transfer you to Maine to be with the Admiral...”

Jethro thought about that in a flash as his ears flattened. “What?” The Major asked.

“I...sir, I'd like to stay with my unit, sir,” Jethro said carefully. “I'd like to request to return to my unit actually,” he said.

“An official request?” The Major asked, eating some sort of replicated blueberry concoction. “Mm, good. My compliments,” the Major said, pitching his voice to the cook. The cook nodded, now embarrassed. He smiled.

Jethro noted the human's reaction and the Major's intentional change of subject to give him time to reconsider. But he'd made up his mind. “Sir, I'd like to stay or go to Oasis, wherever I'm needed.”

Major Pendeckle eyed him and then nodded. “Not yet though,” Firefly interjected. “You still have a ways to go before you are fully cleared, Gunny,” the AI said to them. Jethro sighed.

“Gotta listen to the doctors, or in this case the AI. They know more about what is going on than you or I. But if you are able, I'll put you on Oasis. But that had better be soon; we're shipping out shortly.”

“Aye aye, Sir. I'll do my best to be squared away by then,” Jethro vowed.

“Don't push it, Gunny, or her,” Firefly said. “But I think you'll be ready to go in another shift.”

“Good then. Get clearance and then you'll be back on duty. Until then, get cleaned up and do what they need you to do, Gunny,” the Major said, getting to his feet. Jethro and the other enlisted rose. “And on that note, back into the fray,” the Major said, nodding to them as he walked out. He policed his tray on the clean-up station by the hatch and then left without a backwards glance.

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

“You sure he'll be all right?” the Major asked Firefly. “He's a bit out.”

“He's getting there. A lot of it is shifting now to Bast. She's still young, still growing and demanding attention. I've been feeding her information; that's helped them a bit. I've set up a link for her. She is accessing the historical archives now. I'm not certain if he knows or not.”

“I see. So, is he ready to return to active duty?” the Major asked. “I wasn't kidding; we need him back on the line.”

“But not if he's not ready, sir. And yes, he's getting there. I'd say light duty for at least a week, perhaps more. He seems to be handling the mood swings, but they will hit again when she goes through an upgrade and evolves.”

“Which will happen...”

“Hopefully, she'll let him or us know,” the ship AI replied. “Though there is no telling with that one,” Firefly sighed.

“I see.”

“You have the orders?”

“Yes. I'm wondering what Jersey will say when he sees them,” Major Pendeckle said with a small burble of anticipation and amusement in his voice. He was carrying orders to Major Forth including a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel.