Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (13 page)

Jethro felt a ping. He checked his e-mail as his people moved on the simulated objective. He held up a closed fist indicating they halt in place. Then he checked.

“Gunny, I'd like to see you at your earliest convenience,” was the gist of the blunt e-mail from the Major. Jethro nodded. He turned and pointed to PFC Presley. Elvin was good troop, quiet and a hell of a brawler in the bars. He was an old troop, a vet of the first Agnosta Expedition and damn proud of it. Jethro touched the human's right hand, initiating a link through their implants. “You've got the detail. I've got to report to the Major,” Jethro said through a text. The PFC nodded and then waved to the troops and then hand signed to move out.

Jethro watched them go briefly and then nodded. Presley had kept a sharp eye on the situation, aware that leadership could drop on him at any time if Jethro was injured or killed. That was good. They were still drilling that into the other PFCs and even the noncoms.

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

Jethro noted Spitterman exiting the Major's office but kept himself from reacting. He wasn't certain what was going on, but from the angry look in Spitterman's eye, it couldn't be all good. “Sir,” he said, knocking on the hatch combing.

“Enter. Close the hatch,” the Major ordered. When Jethro complied he turned back and set his rifle on the deck and came to attention. “Care to share, Gunny?”

“Sir?”

“This pissing contest between you and Spitterman. It has to stop. I don't have time for chickenshit Jethro.”

“Sir, I...” Jethro stopped himself and came to attention. “Aye aye sir.”

“Better. But do explain.”

“Sir, Staff Sergeant Spitterman indicated he wanted control of his squads and indicated he could handle it.”

“And he proved himself wrong. Which, I suppose is why you let him do it,” the Major mused, crossing his hands in front of him on his desk. “Correct?”

“Yes, sir. And I thought I could use the time to get my own house in order before I...expanded my horizons.”

“In other words you took your eye off the whole unit in favor of your own people. Not good, Gunny,” the Major said.

“Yes, sir.” Jethro knew better than to apologize. Pendeckle wasn't a big fan on someone kissing ass or apologizing when they didn't mean it.

“Fix it. Tell your seconds they've got the ball and then check in on Spitterman's side. Don't get into any pissing contests; just find out where things are coming apart and find fixes for the problem. Got it?”

“Aye aye, Sir.”

“You’re responsible to the entire unit son, better get used to that.”

“Aye aye sir,” Jethro said, keeping his tail carefully still.

“Spitterman better get used to it too. Don't play tattletale, I'll get it from the grapevine anyway. Just help him get his act together. The twit won't be grateful, but I don't give a shit about that either.”

Jethro flicked his ears but remained silent. The Major cocked his head. “You uploaded your lesson plan I assume?” he asked. He knew it was true, Jethro had of course CC'd him a copy. He'd been impressed with it.

“Yes, sir.”

“Apparently Spitterman lost his,” the Major said with a frown, “or he's not following it. Send him another copy. No, I will,” he said, rubbing his jaw. He quickly tapped out the command and then hit enter on his keyboard. “Done. See that he follows it. Test is Friday. Top ten winning squads get the evening off. The bottom ten get to retest until they get it right.”

“Aye, sir,” Jethro replied. He stiffened to attention.

“Dismissed,” the Major replied. Jethro saluted. The Major waved him out with a distracted salute as he returned to his paperwork.

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

Jethro had been hands off with Spitterman's people until the Major had called both of them on it. The panther gave the Sergeant a hand, quietly guiding the noncom when he could. Sending him copies of his own lesson plan hadn't apparently helped; the human had balked at following it. But when Jethro's teams beat them soundly a few times in the initial training exercises, some began to mutter about spending more time training and less time screwing around. The talk with the Major and the Major sending orders to follow the lesson plan had kicked Spitterman into gear.

The promise of the evening off for the winning teams spurred most of his people into action. The threat of retesting all night long woke them up into a fearful fit. The Major had played both the carrot and stick in one expert order. Jethro was impressed that they moved with a snap, but he'd see how things went on Friday, two days away.

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

Major Forth had shipped up VR sets and an entire training network independent of the ship's computer network for the Marines to use. Having learned from their experience with the trainees, Jethro limited sleep teaching and submergence VR to two hours a night. That cut down on headaches. Fortunately, the platoon had the basics down already, so the training was light and sleep teaching only when needed.

The Marines outnumbered the trained sailors by nearly two and a half to one. It was one to one when you factored in the half-trained naval recruits. There were some sailors who were intimidated by those numbers. Jethro overheard quite a bit of muttering and saw some dark looks in the mess. A few of his people saw it too. The panther kept his people busy so they couldn't take advantage of their numbers and do something stupid.

The officers spent a lot of time in the Major's office discussing training points and getting to know one another. Valenko let slip that the Major had followed his lead and had started them on 2D computer real time strategy games to better assess their training and coordination. So far it was working out to a limited degree.

The Major did pass down orders to have the squads familiarize themselves with the deck plan of the most common vessels the Horathians were known to use. Jethro knew that they would be lost if they tried to memorize every deck plan, so he focused on downloading the deck plans into the implant memory of every Marine and then trained them to locate and secure objectives such as the bridge or main engineering or power rooms on their own. That allowed the Marines to exercise their own initiative to get it done.

“The bridge is the brain of the ship, but engineering and the power rooms are the ship's heart and muscles. Another two objectives are the armory and security. Don't break up into too small a group to take each down; you'll invite defeat in detail. Keep concentrated, take the primary objectives, secure them, and then leave a small guarding force while you take the remaining force on to the next objective,” Valenko said in a lecture to the leadership.

“And beware of someone coming in from behind and taking what you've just secured,” Jethro said.

The bear nodded looking at Jethro. Jethro had tried to drive both of those simple things into their minds, but it was too early to tell if they had taken or not.

“Be on the lookout for traps, for forces maneuvering against you, and for someone hitting the self destruct.”

“Yeah, bad things happen then,” Sergei said. “And I don't like to run or die.”

“Zip it,” Jethro growled, thrashing his tail. He'd gotten in some suit time with his armor and had enjoyed it. The other Marines in armor hadn't. There had been some complaints and some questions about why they all didn't have the same armor. He didn't have an answer for that.

“If they are expecting you, and most likely they are, and if you expect resistance, you've got some choices. You can bull through and take the objectives anyway ignoring casualties, find another route, or secure the secondary objectives first and then hit the primary. Remember, if you are in a suit and you cut off their life support, they will be pressed to find a way to turn it on and survive. Toss some gas or vent the ship and you've secured it.”

“But, if they know what is coming they could try to lock you out or blow the ship,” Jethro warned. Again, the bear nodded.

“Is that how you did it in F platoon in the crucible sir?” Presley asked. Jethro looked at the grizzly with an amused look.

“We knew the book, we knew they knew the book, and we knew they were going to pull out all the stops. So, we adapted and found another way around,” Valenko said. “That is a good point though,” he said thoughtfully, looking at Jethro. “If we've got those recordings, we'll play them sometime. Give the troops something to think about.”

“Aye, sir,” Jethro said, making a note.

Jethro was surprised to see Pa'nash and Harley had not only their squads squared away, but they were also lending a quiet hand with other squads when they could. The Marines exercised against each other and then did a hot wash afterward. Harley had a reoccurring habit of encouraging those who had misstepped into bucking up and learning from the experience. Jethro made a note of their actions.

The grueling training took its toll on the Marines over time. Their implants and training compensated a lot for it, but a few Marines made regular trips to the infirmary. Most of it were sprains, bruises or minor issues.

Unfortunately, they couldn't spend their entire time doing exercises, so Jethro had the squads watch a video of the exercises to learn from flaws. Valenko stepped in and added a video of their recent battle in Antigua, as well as the deep critique Jethro and Valenko had performed on it. That awed some of the noobs and silenced some of the more gung ho vets who had just joined.

“It looks wicked. I mean, to have been there sounds awesome, but damn. That sucked.”

“Something to remember, the enemy wants to live and win just as badly as you do. Remember that well. It ain't easy, and it's not a turkey shoot. First time you think it is, you'll find out differently. Either from me or from the enemy when he reams your ass good. And if you survive it, you will wish after I'm done with you that you hadn't,” Jethro growled.

More than one head nodded curtly over that warning. Jethro surveyed the group. Half were Neo, an eighth were Veraxin, another eighth were of one alien species or another, and the remainder were human, give or take a gene mod or two. He judged that two thirds were gaining the professionalism and maturity to keep their heads in combat. He hoped so at least.

He had punctuated watching their corners and not letting their guard down by an exercise and then having them watch Fonz die. After two squads failed an IED training exercise, he had them watch what had happened to Kovu. Seeing the lion getting burned had been a sobering experience for the Marines. He'd seen Kiara's flinch when she'd seen it. She'd had her ears flat and had wiped at her eyes when the lights in the bay had come up, but she'd kept her own counsel.

Seeing the elves get chewed apart had launched Jethro into a warning about getting cute, and a reminder that there was no second chances in combat. His usage of the films started dark mutterings among the Marines. They didn't like getting their noses rubbed into things like that, and a reminder of their own mortality didn't go over well with any of them. There was also an undercurrent desire to slack off, to just coast. He ignored both and stuck to the syllabus.

A week into their journey, and it became obvious things weren't working out for some of the squads. Some were under performing, a few badly. They lacked leadership, or the leadership they did have, in the case of Mirilax, was ineffective at best. It didn't help their morale at all that the other squads teased them relentlessly.

Jethro did some checking and noted that some of the squads took every opportunity to rack out, complaining they were exhausted with the twenty-hour days. Hell, everyone was, but they still had to keep training. He thought briefly about breaking them up and mixing them into the other squads, but the other squads were gelling nicely. So that meant a change in leadership would be needed to get people off their asses and make them stay that way. Failure was not an option.

Some of the corporals they had brought on board in Agnosta weren't cutting the mustard in the sims. Mirilax was obviously a plodder; she did exactly as she was told and then waited for orders. She had no initiative.

Jill had too much initiative and frequently ignored orders or overextended her squads. She would charge off hell bent on a killing spree from time to time, seemingly from blood lust. Jethro, acting as the op force sometimes found it pathetically easy to maneuver around the squads and then attack them from the rear.

Sometimes Jill would rush through an area without thoroughly checking it first. Jethro tried to break that habit by placing mechs or personnel in lockers or hiding spots. It didn't fully break her, but it did slow her down sometimes when she remembered to look.

Twice the Neos picked out people in lockers by smell alone. Jethro had taken the precaution of shielding their implants and heat signatures from detection but not smell. He complimented them on thinking with their nose.

Ted's people seemed quite like the Neo chimp. He used hand signs a lot. He was a plodder like Mirilax, but he had enough initiative to recognize a potential objective and act on it when the need arose. He was still slow and cautious though.

Two of the Lance Corporals had been in staff positions prior to their reassignment, which had a different mindset than combat ops. Jethro now understood why Jill had volunteered to them. With a bit of seasoning she'd be half-way decent, but as it stood now her bluster was going to get a lot of his people killed. Worse, he laid even odds that she'd freeze once it really came down around her. He didn't like that idea but he wasn't certain about how to fix it.