Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (18 page)

Some of the construction crews thought what they were doing was make work. He could see it. One of the points of the inspection was to show his face and to let them know he appreciated their efforts. “You all know we're getting a trickle of stuff in, the care packages from the Admiral. Right now we're using what we can for the mobile fleet, but I expect that to change eventually. So, we need you to make as much progress here with what you can. And don't worry, we'll get you back on track,” he told a mess. The men and women cheered.

When he was finished having lunch with the crew he took the time to make a brief stop at the large Ssilli habitat, where he asked if the alien needed anything.

The alien had molted since he'd been recovered four years ago outgrowing his tank on Firefly. He was now taking on his adult preform. From his size he would most likely be quite large when he filled out, far too large for Firefly. His fins flashed about, quite colorful in the normally drab confines of the kilometer wide spherical chamber they were in. The bottom half of the chamber was filled with water; the upper was a dome of crystal and titanium. The alien swam over and saluted the Commander with one of his long squid tentacles. Logan returned the salute. “Some more fish, some toys or something to do would be nice sir,” Ensign Tra'l replied. The San Diego dumb AI ensign Kamia had just come online. She translated the ensign's speech picked up by hydrophones and then sent the translation to the Commander's implants.

“Okay, we can see about that. The fish would have to be imported. We don't have any aquariums here as far as I know. I can look into it though.”

“Okay,” the being said, blasting a mist through his blowhole as he breathed. His rear flippers moved gently with the artificial surf.

Horatio cocked his head and then frowned. “Most of our fish is either imported frozen or it's replicated. Sorry about that.”

“This is a space based system now Commander; I fully understand,” the Ssilli said, and then blew a water spray from his blow hole again. The mist settled all over the place. Horatio ducked away. “Sorry about that, sir.”

“No problem son, it's refreshing actually. I've missed it,” Horatio replied, smiling slightly. He remembered going boating a few times. “Do you think you can handle some lectures?”

“Attending would have to be virtual, sir,” the alien replied.

“Or we could bring your students here...”

“Me? Teach?” The alien asked, clearly surprised. He'd given up on his desire on reforming the navigators guild or had at least stopped pestering them about it. He did do an electronic correspondence with the various ship navigators who passed through the system. He also made himself available to speak with some of the students studying Xeno biology.

Horatio shrugged. “You are one of our foremost experts in hyper navigation and piloting. If not you who else? We have some people teaching theory at the academy, but for the most part it has been hands on.”

“I can do some, sir. But you have to have the gift and a good foundation for me to be of any use.”

“I can look into getting additional trainers.”

“It would be interesting. Perhaps simulators?”

Horatio cocked his head and then nodded thoughtfully. “Here, where you can have full access to them without a long transmit time. Yes, we can rig up something in the academy dome. I'm sure of it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“If you can do some canned lectures too I'd appreciate it,” Logan replied.

“I'm a bit talked out as it is, sir. Doctor Thornby has run me ragged there,” the alien replied with another wet raspberry.

Horatio snorted. “The more information she has, the better the chances for project Resurrection. Do you mind if we cycle some people through here as well?”

“People, sir?”

“We have some that can tolerate the salt water. I know a few from other worlds that miss it. And we also need to train some people in swimming and water safety. If you could oversee that as well...”

“I'm going from bored to busy rather quickly,” the alien said.

“You asked for it,” the Commander replied with a hint of a smile.

“No complaints, sir; I know better. Thank you.”

“No problem. Now, I've got a few things to finish up here and then I've got to listen to a proposal I'm not sure I want to hear.”

“Good luck, sir,” the alien said as Horatio straightened.

“I'm not the only one who's going to need it soon,” Horatio muttered as he left the compartment.

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

Journeyman Miller made certain he was transferred off Firefly. He was glad to go and knew Chief Chowler was glad to see him go. He freely admitted to himself that he'd been a sullen ass for a while, but he couldn't help it. He'd busted his tail to get that stripe, one stupid nosey jarhead had cost him it and any more that could have been coming. He was rightfully pissed.

He glared at the panther in passing. It would be his luck to run into the damn cat. He shouldered his space bag and kept going, turning to put the bag between him and the damn furball. He didn't bump the cat with his bag, though it looked like he'd tried. Jethro didn't care; he was too busy with training to worry about sour grapes.

Chief Chowler nodded when he spotted Miller at the lock. “Good luck. Get your head sorted out. I told you I'd give you a fair shake. Hopefully, whoever you end up with does the same.”

“Thank you, sir. And thanks for the transfer,” Miller said, setting his bag down. He came to attention.

“Dismissed. Get out of here,” Chowler said, waving a hand.

“Aye aye, sir,” Miller said, picking the bag back up and departing the ship.

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

Major Pendeckle frowned as he looked over the available officers and noncoms in the system. There were a few available, but none he really wanted. Some he had to leave in place; they were critical to the chain of command in the system. Truth to be told, the system was rather bereft of experienced or desirable Marines.

There were sixty Marine midshipman in the pipeline at the academy; fifty were from the college class as Major Forth had pointed out. Twelve ensigns had graduated and were waiting for transport to Agnosta. Not one of them had any combat experience or training of course. Two had JAG training, and one was an intel officer, the rest were staffers. He shook his head in disgust.

They were trading five of their enlisted Marines who couldn't cut the mustard for the same number who had been waiting for transport to Agnosta. Fortunately, all the replacements were graduates of the first boot class—one was a PFC, two were Lances, and one was a Corporal. All had past discipline issues but he didn't care. He'd seen what Jethro and Valenko could do with their people; they'd be too exhausted to cause trouble. Or at least they'd better hope so for their sakes. If it made its way up to his desk heaven help them.

He frowned and then clicked the intel weenie and then jotted out the orders to join them. The Veraxin would probably be pissed, but he'd get over it.

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

Shelby heard through her contacts on the Annex that her father was due in to arrive. Since the assassination attempt, and the political crap her father had been dealing with, he'd resorted to varying his schedule, route and shuttle on a seemingly random basis. She knew it was troublesome for him. She was also tempted to let him come home without pouncing on him; she remembered how he had hated getting slammed when he had come in to their quarters after a long shift.

Still, she couldn't resist meeting him at the boat bay lock. Her father exchanged the usual routine of saluting the colors and then the officer of the deck before he passed his duffel to a waiting bot. A yeoman passed him a tablet and he scowled.

As he exited the lock he had his head down. He nearly bumped into Shelby before he heard her clear her throat. He looked up in surprise and then shorted when she came to attention and saluted. He nonchalantly returned the salute and then tucked the tablet under his arm. “What can I do for you, Commander?”

“Off the record?” She asked with a smile and twinkle.

He sighed theatrically. “That will be all George,” he said, handing the tablet back to the yeoman. “I'll see you in the office later,” he ordered.

“Aye aye, Sir,” the yeoman said as he took the device and then left.

“Okay, fine, off the record. It's a bit early to start in you know,” he said.

“I know that Daddy. I wanted a hug,” she said, coming closer.

He chuckled, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her. “Well! If that was what you wanted, why didn't you say so in the first place?” he demanded.

She smiled and hugged him back. He squeezed until she gasped and then he slowly released her. “So, now that you've done a good job buttering me up...”

She chuckled softly, patting his chest before she stepped back. “As if,” she teased.

“Like I don't know how well you can wrap me around your little pinky when you want something and turn on the charm,” he mock growled.

“Hey, this is me here, not the XO of Firefly,” she said, miming brushing her rank tabs off her shoulders.

He snorted. “Sorry, but the two are hard to separate from time to time, especially now.”

“Well, I know, but I thought I'd get some personal time in before we turn on the charm and try to convince you,” Shelby said.

“Right,” Horatio said, eying her. “This I've got to see,” he said.

“You will. If you keep an open mind,” she replied.

“I'll try. Even though it's like I said, hard to separate things,” he sighed. “So, lay it on me,” he said.

She shook her head. “Not here,” she said, looking around. The Captain wants a word though before we make any presentations to the senior staff.”

“Ah,” he said nodding wisely. “And she knows that little bit that Lincoln said?”

“Lincoln?” Shelby asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States. Very famous guy, I know you remember him,” she nodded. “Well, it's an old quote, I forgot the origin. He said something to the effect...” He paused and cocked his head and then cleared his throat. “Twelve nays and one aye. The aye has it because
I
am president.”

“So, it doesn't matter in the end what the other says, the final decision rests with you,” she said slowly.

He nodded. “It's something called leadership. It sucks, because you also have to stand there and take it when you are proven wrong.”

“I see.”

“Well, where are we going?”

“Wardroom twelve if you want. Or we can do this on Firefly. It's a bit hectic there though,” she warned.

He snorted. “I'll bet. No, twelve is fine. Let's go,” he said. He hip bumped her. “On the way you can fill me in on your many adventures,” he teased. “Any
special
friends I should be aware of?” he asked warningly.

“Daaad,” she drawled, rolling her eyes as he chuckled.

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

They had bantered a bit, talked about old friends, but had avoided touchy subjects. Several times they had been interrupted by a passing crewman or officer who saluted. They had paused to return the salute. Shelby wished dearly she could have taken more time, taken a longer route but they needed to get the ball rolling. When they arrived at the wardroom they had fallen into companionable silence. Shelby could feel her father's mood changing; tension was etching itself in his form and shoulders. It was as if the weight of command was slowly coming to rest on his shoulders. He frowned but seemed to bear the weight without complaint.

She followed him into the compartment and then nodded to her Captain as she came to attention. “Good to see you Renee, Firefly. I've read your reports. Good job, damn fine job,” Horatio said, disdaining the salute to shake hands with the Captain.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, now off balance. He waved for her to sit. She snorted softly to herself and sat slowly, looking at Shelby. Shelby shrugged. Apparently she wasn't the only one of her family who could throw someone off balance.

“Okay,” Horatio said, getting comfortable at the head of the table. “You are here to try to convince me to let you go on what did you call it?”

“A recon raid. A reconnaissance in force sir,” Commander Firefly interjected.

“Right,” Commander Logan said with a nod. “Let's hear it.”

Shelby pulled up an image of the B101a1 system from their files. “Well, sir, as you know, we're the only ones who can do it,” Shelby said. She looked at the AI and then to her Captain. “Firefly is the only ship in the fleet with stealth and who is large enough to absorb damage and then return with a report,” she continued.

“You have to survive to report first. One unlucky hit on your hyperdrive and you are dead though. You know that right?” He demanded, looking at them sternly.

All three officers nodded soberly. “Yes, sir, we do.”

“Sir, we need eyes on the situation,” Renee said stubbornly. She indicated the holographic image. “We don't know what is there,” she said. “And you know intel is half the battle. We need to know. We have to know. And if we can do something about it, mess them up, throw them off balance...” she waved her hand meaningfully. “If they are even there. Right now we've only got circumstantial evidence that they are.”