Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (56 page)

The Clydesdales were a no brainer; he was keeping them as colliers. Not only were they proven work horses, but they were also common designs with a decent hyperdrive and range, which meant easy repair and upgrade. He'd have them join 779 and their fellows to run supplies in the convoys to Agnosta and to Antigua.

The yacht they had mothballed since the battle of Pyrax.. he planned to use her as a courier as John had planned. With the right crew and a thorough overhaul she'd be perfect for the roll, hitting Delta at least. That left
Tris
or
Three of a Kind
in Italian. She had been used as a training ship for the Marines and Navy before the academy had come online in San Diego and the Marines had shifted to Agnosta. She'd been in limbo for some time; he made a note to return her to active service.

He frowned, scanning down the line of ships. Speedy Express Delivery 81374 though, he wasn't sure about that ship.

She was a light freighter, one of the last built before the Xeno war. Speedy Express Delivery or SED had run thousands of the Express class freighters all over the galaxy. The light freighters were designed to carry up to a thousand tons of cargo, really not a lot, but she was one of the few civilian freighters that had not only an antimatter reactor, but also a hyperdrive capable of hitting the mid octaves of the Epsilon band. When you factored in the network of wormholes, she really could move freight across the galaxy faster than anyone else. Only two other shipping firms could keep up with her blistering speed.

He really didn't see a need to keep the little ship, not with the lack of cargo room. Someone in the past seven centuries had ripped out her antimatter reactor and fuel system too, not that he had any for her to begin with. Without antimatter and an augmented crew, she was stuck to the low octaves of gamma band. With an augmented Navy crew she could make the hops to nearby systems in Delta.

It was tempting, sorely tempting to hang onto her. The Moth...he frowned, looking at her specs. The intel crew was about done with her. She was a medium class, nothing special except her age. No, he'd part with her, let her go to the auction block to keep some people happy. But he'd put a reserve on her, one to keep Robert Dean from swindling it for a couple credits. He sent the order through to halt any repairs and then another to JAG and Logistics to sell her off.

With that done he turned to the last of his new acquisitions; the one guaranteed to give him the largest headache of them all.

The Oasis of Space...he scowled. That ship still had him tied in knots. On the one hand...what the bastards had done on her gave him nightmares. He could just imagine what it did to the survivors. He was sorely tempted to just send her to the breakers for that alone. Many said she was a cursed ship. The idea was appealing, but the waste wasn't. On the other hand, he'd thought of turning her into a mobile hospital ship. That had been done with a lot of the liners that hadn't been pressed into service evacuating people.

She'd do wonders moving around the sector, stamping out hot spot pandemics, or updating a planet's medical facilities. If he paired her with Prometheus...but then, the Cabeiri Zeta class tender already had a small hospital grade infirmary on board. He shook his head. And he really couldn't see a calling for such a large ship with the populations in the sector. Sure she could pick up people who wanted to enlist, but really? A cruise liner that can't get above the midoctaves of gamma?

No, he shook his head. He'd been all for selling her right up until Dean, Madra and those other blood sucking bastards had tried to yank her out of his hands. Walker's involvement hadn't helped, though he'd been smart enough to back off after the initial exchange. It stuck in his craw to let them get it though, but they had deep pockets. Deeper than anyone else in the system and the ability to intimidate any would be competitors to think twice before throwing their hat into the ring.

He really didn't see a call for a pleasure ship right now. Give it a couple decades and maybe, just maybe, if they dealt with the pirates though. They could have, of course, put her in mothballs and turn her into a habitat; there were several space colonies that had a ship at their core. Four of them were still in Pyrax.

He played with the idea for a while. He could set up a very high reserve, which got a smile. Yes, one to soak the bastards for all they were worth. If they really wanted it, they'd have to pay through the nose for it. And he'd charge a premium on repairs in the yard if they wanted that too. Yes, that was tempting, very tempting...

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

“Well, this is a fine mess,” Miss Persephone said. “This has been confirmed?” She asked the others. She like them were in hooded cloaks. Ordinarily she liked the theater; it put her in the mood. But she'd just had her hair done, and besides, she wanted to keep her eyes free to see around her. She still didn't quite fully trust her brother and sisters of the guild.

“Our contact gave us the full recording, the only recording,” was the curt reply.

“Well, you don't have to be rude; we are all professionals here,” the Asian woman said. “I take it something must be done. I know we all had high hopes for the young man...” She shook her head mournfully, hands in her lap.

“He did us a favor killing Speaker Felicia and her cronies, though he did it without authorization. He earned a censure there, but we've never been in a position to...administer the correction,” one voice whispered. “I believe it is past time to...see that justice is done.”

“I too am not happy with that action,” another hooded figure said. “I also do not like his implicating one of our number,” a straw-like hand indicated the woman with her hood off.

Miss Persephone blinked in surprise. “Me? Well, I can't say I'm flattered,” she said frowning. “My, the young man has been making enemies hasn't he?” she asked mildly.

“This is the final straw. We must send a message,” the first said with finality. “One that will not be forgotten.”

The hooded forms nodded. “Agreed. He must be silenced.”

“We can't jeopardize our assets in the military to get to him. So how?” A voice whispered.

“We will find a way.”

Chapter 24

Changes in rank proliferated through the chain of command, as did the product of the replicators. Irons had left them some gifts and stuffed them with goods before he left.

Admiral Irons had sent along promotions other than Horatio's. Some of the senior staff were confirmed. They still needed a G-1 Operations to replace Commander Vargess who was in Antigua, as well as a G-6 Communications and a G-8 Logistics. Both rolls had been performed by the ship AI Fuentes or Firefly. Captain Firefly took the rolls as a temporary position, but he would be leaving shortly with his ship. That meant they had to find replacements shortly.

Commander Montgomery was confirmed G-2 intelligence with a promotion to Lieutenant Commander. He had accepted the promotion and confirmation quietly. “At least he's no longer bitching about it,” Thornby teased. They all knew how much he'd fought to stay out of the top spot. “It's ironic; the best man for the job fought like hell
not
to get it,” she said. He shot her a quelling look but she merely smiled sweetly back.

“Sometimes that's for the best,” Horatio said with a nod to the intel officer. Monty shrugged. Horatio turned to his acting logistics officer. “Sitrep?” he asked mildly.

“We're still feeding Firefly's replicators and the other replicators that the convoy brought in. I must say, Admiral Irons put in a lot of material. Our people are hard pressed going through it all,” Firefly said as acting G-8.

“True, but it's much appreciated,” Horatio said with a nod. “Any idea on how long until it's finished?”

“We're still running through the classified material list. Hyperdrives, reactor components, and weapon components mostly,” Firefly said. “I noticed a lack of warheads, drones, or other equipment. And all of it geared for smaller ships.”

“I also noted the AI cores in yesterday's shipment,” Decius said quietly. “Do we have the um...software to run them?”

“Commander Sprite passed on some of her techniques for creating; I suppose you would call it parenting an AI. We also have instructions and a template to go off of,” Firefly explained. “We'll begin that project once the first cores are installed.”

“Very good. We've run out of them,” Decius said.

“Almost out,” Firefly replied. “I am head of logistics; I have the files on hand,” he said. “I know you are going to send a few to Agnosta. They will certainly be needed there, but I'm uncertain about the initialization of the AI once they get there. Obviously I won't be available.”

“We'll send Veber or Ball. Most likely Veber to get him away from this damn AI tax. He'll be missed though; he's one smart cookie,” Horatio said.

Thornby nodded. The Centaurian had helped her and Doctor Martel work on the resurrection project. He'd ironed out a few of their genetic algorithms for them, creating software to help speed the process up and code check for flaws. There was great hope for the next batch or had been up until Commander Nat'aroka had shown up. Now they had put the batch on hold to process her fresh genetic material and knowledge.

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Horatio said, waving a hand. “You have no ETA on when things will be finished?”

Firefly shook his head. “Just keep feeding me fuel and material until they stop. I'm not going to complain.”

“I'm not either. Or look a gift horse in the mouth,” Thornby said meaningfully. She looked at the others. “I'm just wondering when my turn for a Christmas present is coming,” she said.

“Well, ma'am, since the Admiral doesn't have medical clearance codes and you do...I don't honestly know. I'm keeping my prying eyes far from the list as well. It is very much like Christmas; I don't know what will come out next like you.”

“Why don't you?”

“I'm afraid if I probe too deeply the bot in the replicators would sense the intrusion and classify it as something wrong and then stop production. If that happened I may not be able to get it started again.”

“I see,” Decius said.

“So, until we're finished, Firefly is stuck. Not that I'm complaining, it's giving the crew additional leave time or time to train the new crew.”

“True. And us time to fill in some of the voids in your crew,” Decius replied clacking.

“Yes, that too.”

Horatio nodded. “Fine then, moving on...” He frowned. “The current plan is for us to get as many ships as we can into production as well as finish all we have mothballed. I don't see that happening even with what Firefly and the other ships carried in or are currently making,” he said frowning. “But we'll make the most of it. We will be recalling ships in to refit eventually. We are also going to ship out equipment to each of the orbital forts to update and upgrade them.”

“That's tricky isn't it? Most of the people working construction on them are also needed in the Yard right?” Decius asked.

“Yes, yes I know. And we've got the engineers off in the space bees,” Horatio said. “So, we're going to be doing some juggling.”

“Definitely. I'm glad I have so many legs,” the Centilian said, waving his legs in a stream. Thornby snorted.

“Be that as it may, we've got a lot of manning issues to resolve, including manning of the ships that have yet to be launched, the fortresses, and any we're going to lose when we send them to Agnosta or elsewhere.”

“Which means we're going to need more in the pipeline soon,” Matilda said. She waved a hand. “Not a problem. We've got another uptick in reservists. Interest has been renewed since Firefly returned.”

“Good,” Horatio said with a nod. “The Admiral's plan is an exchange between here and Antigua. It's a pain in the ass, but I see where he's going with it.”

“It's going to open up a lot of security issues,” Monty replied thoughtfully.

“That can't be helped; we're under orders. We'll get it done,” Horatio said stiffly. The others nodded.

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

Despite his frock and then confirmation to Gunny, Jethro insisted on taking the Gunnery Sergeant tests. Lieutenant Valenko had reluctantly signed off on the test, sounding a bit amused, and wondering in a mutter what would he do if he failed it.

Jethro passed with help from Bast. He'd found it to be difficult, but something he could handle. The AI had all the answers in her, but he only let her help when he got stuck on some of the math problems. He was torn over that, but then shrugged it off.

“Why did you do it?” Valenko rumbled when they finally caught up in a bar afterward.

“I had to prove to others that I earned it. Not just...” he shrugged uncomfortably.

“It wasn't something passed on because of who you knew. Nepotism. Okay,” the bear said. “But if you had failed...”

“I had to pass it for myself as well,” Jethro said. He eyed the bear. “To make sure I knew I was ready.”

The bear nodded sagely. “I see. And did you?” He asked with wise knowing eyes.

“With some minor help on the math, yeah,” Jethro admitted.

“I'd hope so. After all, you are a product of Gunny Schultz's school of hard knocks.”