Jethro: First to Fight (26 page)

The Commander called a press conference
and announced the new venture publicly. Within an hour dozens of interested
groups called in asking for a price list.

...*...*...*...*...

Governor Walker called his supporters
in. “Well, that didn't go exactly as I'd planned,” he started.

“No it didn't. Now our contract
supporters have naval competition. They had been holding back to drive the
price up and cause this damn crisis. Now they are likely to eat it in the long
run,” Mr. Edever said in disgust.

“Are they selling off? Does this mean
it's true? They are selling out and moving on? Will they leave us defenseless?”

“Who would blame them? You've all been a
pain in the ass to them,” Enrique said, shaking his head. Mayor Ralkin stepped
on his foot and gave him a pointed look to shut up.

Governor Walker looked at the both of
them for a moment then turned to address the crowd. “Be that as it may, it may
be a sign the navy is selling off, but I doubt it. Many of our armed forces
came from this system and would be loath to leave it and their families
defenseless.”

When the governor finished his speech
the discussion continued. The crowd was restive, his platitudes hadn't been
taken well. He frowned, annoyed.

Many quietly discussed implications and
what could be done in such a scenario. “The militia isn't up for the challenge.
Not by a long shot,” Enrique said.

Many nodded in agreement. Taxes
earmarked for the navy and federal budget had been redirected to the militia
budget with little to show for it. Sure the volunteers looked pretty, but they
had one ship, a converted and partially restored freighter.

“I think we need to give Logan what he
wants. Stop hitting him with sticks and give the man his damn carrot,” a
senator said, waving a hand. Others nodded. “A bribe, just the taxes alone
would go a long way to smooth things over I bet,” Another senator said. Some of
the supporters like Senator Long drew the governor aside. The senior members
told the Governor to start to work with Logan, to support him, get him on their
side. The Governor was dismayed by the change.

Mr. Esley tried a new tactic. “You're up
for re-election in two years. Remember that. So are they. Some are up for
election this year. People aren't happy. The navy is popular, attacking it
isn't. We need him on our side. It comes down to that. You've tried everything.
You've tried to strangle him of funds, that didn't work. Seize navy property,
that failed miserably, we can't use what we've got, it blows up in our faces if
we try. This effort to force him...”

Long grimaced. “So much so we've
alienated him. Poisoned the well.”

Walker snorted. “Yeah well, maybe we
should find someone more willing to talk to us. Someone more in tune with our
thinking.”

Long closed his eyes for a long moment.
“Don't even go there. There was one attempt on Logan's life. He rarely ever
leaves the Yard so he is not an easy target. And spirit of space the backlash?
No. We're better off playing it straight for now.” He frowned. “At least for
now. But who knows what the future will bring right?”

With Firefly still out across the
system, Jethro found out the cruiser was actually headed to the yard with its
prize, not to the jump point, scuttlebutt had been wrong there. But he still
had a week to wait for them to return. Without much to do, Jethro delved into
things he had been avoiding for quite a long time. He stayed in his rack.
Sergei had already been caught wandering the halls, bored. The big liger had
been drafted into a KP party, scrubbing one of the compartments.

Asazi, Hurranna, and Jethro had learned
quickly to stay in their racks and look busy. It was a pity the liger had to
suffer in silence as a warning, Jethro thought with a slight smile. Jethro
looked into his pay, trying to figure out what to do with his growing account.
There was a lot of payments from the Marine corps, It started with his basic
pay but then went on from there. Each varied in amount, some doubled because he
had done something several times over the years. There was hostile fire pay,
training pay, vacuum pay, foreign duty pay, special duty pay, transit pay... a
clothing maintenance allowance, the list went on and on. If they hadn't
annotated each deposit into his account he wouldn't have understood any of it. 
One thing that did stand out was a whopping deduction. A naval accountant had
hit him up for his Federal and star system taxes. He frowned. He hadn't
authorized it but he wasn't going to quibble about it.

After careful thought he donated nearly
half to his clan. He really didn't need the credits, he was a Marine after all,
his room and board were paid for. The matriarch took some, but she gently
informed him in an e-mail that he needed to think of the future. She stated
that she would invest some of the credits in bonds she would hold for him. The
interest she would re-invest. A tenth she would use to encourage clan members
to go into business for themselves through no interest loans. One such small
business was a clan member trying to start a business as an accountant. She
recommended that he and the others take her on. He nodded and copy and pasted
that plus the link to Lotus. He remembered Lotus, the albino domestic cat. She
was a sweet heart, mute and born with expressive pale eyes. A real sweety.

He jotted out a quick e-mail thanking
her and approving the plan, then sighed. He checked the schedule. He had
another hour before the next shuttle to Anvil supposedly took off. He wasn't
sure, the last three had been rescheduled. An alert e-mail hit his HUD. Apparently
they were serious this time as he swung his legs off his rack and grabbed his
space bag. He looked to see the others following suit.

“Going my way?” he asked amused.
Hurranna chuckled, but didn't answer, small hands flashing as she folded her
uniforms and carefully packed her space bag.

...*...*...*...*...

Hurranna, Sergei, Letanga, and Jethro
made their way from the shuttle's docking port through customs and into the
interior of the station. Letanga split off with a silent wave, most likely heading
off to see his folks.

They entered familiar cat territory a
few minutes later. Sergei sniffed the air in appreciation, then intercepted a
football tossed his way. He chuffed and then tossed it back, eyes twinkling as
a young tigress came over.

“Glad to see he's in a good mood,”
Jethro said, looking over his shoulder.

“You going to do that thing? With
Lotus?” Hurranna asked. Jethro nodded. “I'm going to do it too. Sergei and
Letanga said pretty much the same thing.”

“We'll have to come up with terms. Knowing
Lotus she'd try to get us to let her pay us for the privilege,” Jethro said
with a rueful sigh.

“Maybe. I heard grams was working on
that though.”

“Oh great, the one selfless woman I
happen to know and you females all gang up on her because she's making you look
bad,” Jethro grumbled.

Hurranna chuckled. “Yup, she's giving
the rest of us a bad name. Can't have that,” she said, flicking her ears in
humor.

They split up and he headed off to the
male guest quarters. This was their first full two week leave since boot. He
was totally confused by the lack of direction right off, he changed into
civvies and then stalled, unsure what to do. He had Lotus's link, but he didn't
want to dive into that right off.

“Not sure what to do?” a familiar voice
asked softly from the doorway. He turned with ears forward, eyes brimming with
amusement as the matriarch greeted him. “What no hug?” she asked dryly.

He chuckled, coming over to exchange
cheek rubs with her.

“Now that's better. Sergei had to bear
hug me. I think he'd do well as a chiropractor, he popped my back lifting me up
off the deck,” she said.

Jethro chuffed in humor, flicking his
ears. “Hurranna and Letanga settling in?”

“They are with their families. You my
grandson seem to be a little lost,” she said. The elderly lioness looked at him
with wise grass green eyes.

He sighed. “I can't fool you can I?” he
asked.

“No, so don't bother trying,” she said.

“I'm... not sure what to do. I'm going
to see Lotus...” He shrugged.

“She's busy. Busy for the next several
days actually,” the matriarch replied. “Why don't you try to unfocus. Take in a
game, drink a beer, relax and live a little,” She gently urged him gently.

“Okay, I'll try grams,” he said softly.

He did try, but the games and talk bored
him. He didn't understand it, the angst people got up over a stupid sports
game. Getting all upset over a game. Sports turned to video games, but he was
wasn't interested in it. He tried meditation, but got bored with that as well.
Restless he started exercising once more.

Lotus finally made an appointment with
him. He flicked his ears to the shy female. She was tiny, barely a meter tall.
She was sweet, communicating by a tablet and text to voice reader. Hopefully
something could be done about her soon, she deserved to have a voice.

She set him straight with his accounts,
set up a system of investments as well as programmed scripts for his automatic
donation to the clan. She even went over his tax filing, correcting a few
things and getting him a small refund.

With that finished he thanked her and
returned to trying to think of some way to relax.

When he had trouble settling the
matriarch sicked the kits and cubs on him. He had been surprised that the clan
was no longer limited to just felines, now there were canines, ursines, and
even a few chimerians he couldn't lump into one species. They all seemed to get
along fine, which surprised him. The kids were a terror with each other,
playing and having a grand old time.

Horse playing with them was a blast, but
eventually their energy wore him down. Finally he got drawn into story time.
The kits were at first intrigued by his stories, but eventually they grew
restless and tired of the stories of simulated combat. That got them into
mischief.

He started to enjoy training the kits,
teaching them a few things he had learned with the matriarch, his father, and
even a few things from the corps. He was surprised that they had other species
in the clan crèche as well. There was a story there, but he never got the
chance to ask the first week, grams had been all but a ghost.

A week after they had arrived he finally
caught up with grams for a cup of tea. She was quiet, in her nook with her
shawl and rocker. A tablet rested in her lap. She smiled softly, aware of how
the others protected her quiet time. He'd heard from some of the kits that she
took more naps. He wondered if that was true. Grams had been known to sham, to
get a kit to relax by pretending to sleep in a rocker. When the kit drifted off
into slumber land she would carry them to a bed and tuck them in, then go about
her business.

“There are a lot of kits and cubs,” he
murmured.

“More than you know. Our population has
exploded. We can have multiple births unlike the humans. It is a problem,
everyone got on the bandwagon with having a kit when the admiral was around.
Free love and all that,” she said wryly.

He snorted. “Sorry I missed it,” he
murmured.

She gave him a sad look. “Unfortunately
grandson, you can't mate with anyone here.”

“Oh?” he asked, waving a hand to the
pictures on the bulkheads around him. They were of various kits and adult cats.
He pointed to a pair of leopards.

“They unfortunately, are related to you
darling. They are your first and second cousins,” she explained and then took another
sip of tea. He grimaced. “Kissing cousins are bad for the blood. We've had
enough of that as it is,” she finished.

“Ah.”

“Also, most are in a relationship. Some
with cats of other species. The doctor is helping us with the medical issues.”

“I see.”

“The Neo clans are consolidating on
Anvil. The other colonies have driven them out with this blasted Neo and alien
life support tax talk.”

“Shit.”

“It's not official yet, but it's making
its way through the committees in congress. Some of the colonies like Vesta
have already enacted it, or at least started taking chunks out of Neo and alien
pay. That's not going over well with them, so they hop a shuttle to here...
Where we have to find something for them. The job market on Anvil has dried
up.”

“Oh, lovely. Well, there is the
Marines.”

“True.”

“This is so bull.”

“Yes, quite, it is bullshit. But we
can't do anything about it. Anvil hasn't enacted the tax, and it seemed to be
the gateway to the stars. Some of the clan leaders wish to leave. Others are
encouraging our people to enroll in the college or in the navy.”

“Or Marines,” he murmured.

“True,” she replied, flicking her ears
in humor. “There are other clans out there among the stars, we have been
gathering information about their locations. Hopefully we can send some of our
people to join them.”

“Maybe,” he replied softly, thinking of
his own breeding.

“You can mate, just not breed here,” she
said as if reading his mind. He snorted. She gently explained to him about a
few Jaguars she'd heard of. She had checked, none were on the station and there
weren't any in the last census. His grimace darkened further into a brooding
one. “The good news is that as a Marine you will get chances to see those
distant worlds... someday. Make sure you take full advantage of such
opportunities,” she murmured.

He admitted he'd had thoughts about
breeding, but had been distracted with life in the corps. “All work and no play
made him a dull boy,” She reminded him gently, teasingly. She flicked her ears
in humor at his embarrassed reaction. “Even the ladies appreciate an occasional
romp with the right kind of male,” she said. “Perhaps that is a good idea, get
your tubes cleaned so you'd settle down, and act less like a tomcat.”

This got him laughing. “Eventually you
will find someone for you Jethro. I know you want that deeply. A mate. It's
programmed into us. It is a worthy goal.” She patted his arm. “Maybe in another
system.”

He was amused by that and nodded.

...*...*...*...*...

Relaxing one evening, Jethro received a
media feed. He flipped through the various channels, there were a lot of them
these days it seemed. He remembered when there had just been the station
information channel and Knox news. Now there were dozens of networks, all vying
for attention.  He decided to take a moment to listen to each in turn. He
regretted that decision almost right away.

He was disgusted by conservative think
tank opinions that the navy was being “heartless” in turning away refugees
attempting to take over the stations. “After all it was made in Pyrax by
Pyraxians with our materials! The governor should seize them with eminent
domain!” One rather loud mouth human said. From the way he was dressed and
sitting in an overstuffed leather chair he'd never really worked a day in his
life.

The panther flipped to the Knox news to
get a fresh perspective. Knox always told it straight. There was a piece about
the navy offering to make space colonies for a price, as well as selling some
of their assets and how it had been going on for months. “So all this hoopla
over the navy being heartless is bull. So, if it's bull, you know it, we know
it, they know it, the question is why are we talking about it? They don't want
these people here, they want them out, but even if the navy bent over backwards
and
gave
them every station what then? They would have no food, no
water, no life support... no life. The navy ladies and gentle beings is not a
charity. It is there to protect our system and our sector from the pirates, to
aide in disasters such as the port a prince solar flare and others, and to keep
the peace. Not a hand out. They don't want to give hand outs but they expect
the navy to do so? Does anyone else wonder why? And why now?”

Jethro grunted. He copied that rant to
his system and then posted it to the Marine forums.

...*...*...*...*...

Ox was drawn into the orbital fort
design effort, despite working with Riley the armorer as his apprentice along
with his duties to the squad and standing the occasional guard shift. The
project intrigued him. The open nature of the design process did as well. The
challenges were interesting, so far the various teams hadn't managed to figure
out work arounds for the various flaws in the design. The replicator blocks
were a major bottleneck.