Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (5 page)

“Careful jarhead, don't yank on the cables,” a crewman passing said.

“Yeah, I know,” he grumbled. “Bite me,” he muttered under his breath. He checked the readings and then nodded. “Okay, here we've got a clean reading and it matches what the computer uploaded to me. So, we move on...” he unplugged the diagnostic device and then leaned back.

“S...I mean, Sergeant, why are we doing this? Can't the crew handle it?” a recruit asked.

Jethro turned to him and then back to the panel. He traced the hoses and then got up and moved further away. He popped another panel off and then reached in and plugged the diagnostic in. “Yes and no. They are supposed to, but Marines have many duties on a ship. One of them is damage control. Since the ship took some damage in the recent battle, it's taken some time to go through everything.”

“But I thought they gave the ship a going over before we left?” a girl asked.

Jethro looked at the human. She could be in her twenties, but then again, she could be a teen. He wasn't much of a judge on human age. “Yes, but no one can catch everything...,” he frowned at the reading. “And sometimes you catch things others overlooked or forgot about. Which, in this case...,” he shook his head. “We just did. Lucky us. I've got to put a call in,” he said. He looked up and frowned.

A few minutes later a bored ensign came lounging around the corner. He was wearing a navy issue coverall, navy gray trimmed in engineering department yellow on the hem, shoulder boards and breast boards.

“Yes, Sergeant?” he asked as the panther popped to attention.

“Sir, found a problem.”

“You did. No one else did?” the ensign drawled. “A jarhead?”

“Sir,” Jethro said, ignoring the put down. “I checked the readings twice; they don't match.”

“Oh? Well, did you clear the line and retest?”

“Sir, it's a red line. Red fittings. Which means, don't touch. Protocol said call in engineering support.”

“And here I am. Okay, let's have a look at this so called problem,” the ensign said. He pulled Jethro's diagnostic tool out and then plugged his own in. He frowned at it, then at Jethro. “This is wrong. What did you do?”

“I plugged my diagnostic in and found it wrong. That's what I'm reporting. The pounds-per-square centimeter is 250. Downstream, it's the proper regulation two hundred.”

The ensign grunted thoughtfully as he unclipped his tool and went downstream to the open panel where the students were. “Who are they?”

“Recruits, sir. Here to observe.”

“Ah,” the ensign said with a sympathetic nod. He plugged his device in and then frowned. “You are right. Something's hinky.”

“Obstruction or pinched line?”

“One or the other. Upstream of that line or in the valve itself. It's not an equipment malfunction. I wonder why no one has noticed it?”

“Not my department, sir,” Jethro said carefully.

“It could be new. Something got flushed. Or a flake or something came off recently,” the Veraxin recruit said.

The human ensign looked at the recruit. “You don't speak unless I ask a specific question directed to you. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the Veraxin said. “I don't understand...”

“You don't have to understand, just do as you are told,” the human said, tone tightening in disapproval. He turned a glare on Jethro.

“They are new, sir.”

“I see that. I think you need to put them on a shorter leash Sergeant. At least until they've learned manners.”

“Aye aye, Sir.”

“I'm calling in the repair. I'll check upstream and see what's going on and why no one reported it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

“Aye, sir. Moving on,” Jethro said, waving to his chicks to follow. He gathered up his tool kit and moved on. “Come one kids,” he said, waving his hand for them to follow. “Next job site...”

When they were out of earshot the Veraxin clicked his mandibles. Jethro looked over his shoulder again, then around. He slowed until the four recruits caught up. “Something?”

“I'm wondering why we weren't allowed to observe the repair. Or help.”

“And why we were told to leave like that?” another recruit muttered darkly.

Jethro snorted. “Well, it's a thing between Marines and squids. Squids are what we call the sailors. They don't like being shown up, least of all by us.”

“Jarheads. My head is not shaped like a jar.”

“It's an archaic term. Don't sweat the small stuff. The point here is that they don't like that we found it and they didn't. That made them look bad. So they naturally wanted us gone so to fix it without any comments from us.”

“Ah.”

“It's perfectly natural to miss something. Normally. But some people are either willfully blind or negligent. I have no idea what in this case. It could be minor or not; I don't know. I know my job though, that's to go on to the next site.”

“So...why didn't they do this before? I mean again, sir?”

Jethro snorted softly. “I think the ensign is wondering the same thing. Others will wonder the same. Maybe it will get some people to pay attention to their jobs so not to get shown up by the dumb jarheads. Not my problem.” He looked at them as they rounded a corner and headed to the lift. “Not your problem either. This is supposed to be a training exercise to keep me in shape, an independent look at the ship's systems, and a fresh perspective for you as an intro. Next is electrical, which isn't something I'm thrilled about...”

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

Much to Jethro's chagrin, his find was kicked up the chain of command. He had hoped it would have been kept in house, in the enlisted quarters to keep an incident from happening. Stop it somewhere at the NCO level with the ship's bosun. No such luck. A simple mistake. A misreading could have explained it away, but logs showed that the tech involved, Spaceman Miller, hadn't checked when he was supposed to do so. Lying about it made it worse; it kicked off a more grim investigation. Jethro was called in to testify before the XO. Shelby Logan took his statement while the tech stood nearby.

When Jethro was finished he stood at attention while the XO perused the records. “Meddling panther,” the tech muttered. Commander Logan snarled at him to remain quiet. The tech was put before a Captain's mast and sentenced to a demotion of rank to E-2 Journeyman and forfeiture of one month's pay. The tech was sullen angry with Jethro.

“Damn nosy cat. Didn't anyone ever tell him curiosity killed the cat?” Mister Miller snarled, fists clenching over and over. “Someone ought to teach him that...” He said with an ugly growl.

Firefly overheard the tech's vow to get even. “That isn't the proper attitude to take from this, Mister Miller,” the AI said from the overhead. The tech winced, shoulders hunched. He looked up.

“And definitely not something to be saying about a fellow crewman. I'm going to let it slide as something you are saying in the heat of the moment, Mister Miller, but I'm counseling you on regaining the proper perspective on this situation. It isn't Sergeant McLintock's fault you got caught, it is your own. Lying about it just made it worse. I suggest you learn from the experience and don't do it again.”

“Aye aye, Sir,” the tech said.

“Dismissed,” The AI said as the Captain came out of her wardroom. She paused as the tech stalked off.

“Still a hard head?”

“A bit, ma'am. His file states that he is a bit of a hot head. Something about an Irish temper, though I'm not certain if the genetic factor is true or not. He isn't happy and has focused negatively on the Sergeant,” the AI replied as Major Pendeckle exited the lift and came over to the Captain.

“Something up Major?”

“I was summoned,” the Major said, waving a hand to the ceiling.

“Oh?” The Captain asked, waving the Marine officer to her wardroom. Since it was near their morning meeting, the Captain waved them off for the moment as they got a cup of coffee. Some of the other officers filed in.

“What is this about? The meeting?” The Major asked, taking a sip of coffee. “We're still on course right?”

“Everything there is fine,” Firefly said. “Or within specs. No, I called you, Major, because of the recent incident with Sergeant McLintock and Tech Miller. Specifically, Tech Miller just let slip a bit about how this may not be over.”

“Miller eh?” Chief Chowler grunted, coming into the compartment. “Him again.”

“Is he going to be a problem?” The Captain asked.

“He's a hot head Captain,” Firefly reported. He was duty bound to report the talk to the Captain and to Major Pendeckle since it was a veiled threat against a fellow crew member. He laid out the brief statement and even the recording he had made. “I counseled him over disciplining him, ma'am. I didn't want to make the situation worse. I know you organics tend to, as the expression says, pop off without knowing what comes out of your mouth or meaning it.”

“True,” Chowler replied. “Miller more than most. He's kept it in check, but I know this is his third demotion in the past two years. Last one was for popping someone in the eye.”

“If he tried that with the good Sergeant he'd be used as a scratching post,” the Major replied with a snort. “Count on it.”

The Captain's face was cold. She drummed her fingers in annoyance. “That damn cat...” she growled darkly. She and Jethro had a bit of a history. He had gone out on a limb and killed a group of slimeballs without clearance from the chain of command. That had bothered her, more because he had nearly pulled her career down with him had he gotten caught. She knew now he had acted in a calculated fashion to not only render justice that was obviously in short supply, but also cover the Navy from any repercussions should he be exposed. She still didn't have to like it though.

“Ma'am, you can't blame the Sergeant in this instance; ma'am, he did his duty. Tech Miller obviously didn't. He didn't like getting caught. He still doesn't understand it wasn't so much the not doing the job that got him in trouble as it was lying about it and trying to cover it up afterwards.”

“True.”

Jethro was unsure what happened until he caught on that he'd accidentally caught someone out. He shrugged. “If he'd done his job in the first place...”

“Right. But that's not going to buy you any favors with the crew so watch your tail.”

“Right.”

The engineering department was now a bit hostile and competitive with the jarheads, seeing them now as the enemy, a snitch. Some who had been coasting on high morale and had forgotten or glossed over harder chores now had to dig in and do them. Some resentment was formed there, even more so when the XO and Chief engineer insisted that experienced hands do the hard, dirty jobs before they shoved it off on a clueless recruit. That didn't go over well with the engineers.

At the next morning staff meeting, the Captain asked if it was going to be a long-term problem.

“I'll get a handle on it eventually, ma'am. They know better; they just don't want to admit it. Some of the chores are a bitch, and I for one don't want some greenhorn ham handed twit trying to do them. Not when my ass may be riding on the line if they get it wrong. It'll take a couple days, but I expect to drill that into some of the wiser heads shortly. The rest,” he shrugged helplessly. “They'll never learn,” Chief Chowler said. “For now though, waking them up and getting them back to work was a good thing. We've got way too many noobs and some coasters. You know I transferred some of my best people to man the ships we left behind in Antigua right?” He said. The Captain nodded. “Unfortunately, that left us with some borderline people. They aren't bad apples, but a few you have to keep on them to get the job done,” the Chief replied.

“They lack initiative?” The Captain asked. She glanced at Shelby who nodded. “It's not just battle damage?”

“I've been helping out in engineering, ma'am, giving the Chief some downtime or freeing him up for other projects. Some of the staff in the department know their stuff, but you have to be on them constantly to make sure it is done. They know they need to do it but always have an excuse. And if it is a hard or dirty job…,” she shook her head in disgust. “Yes, there are a lot of issues to fix though.”

The Captain made a face. She should have known it wouldn't be so simple or easy a fix.

“Lazy, pure cussed laziness. Pure and simple. They play dumb a lot and think they can get away with it. Some are just in the Navy for a job, meal and the perks. Most aren't above grade E-4. I'm tempted to bust the lot of them back to E-1.”

Renee snorted. “I see. Join the Navy; see the universe. They probably have or think they have a sense of adventure. Girls like the uniform.”

“Yeah, but they don't like the whole getting shot at and dying thing,” the XO said. “I've heard some grumbling.”

Renee nodded but turned to the Chief. “Right. Well, Chief, get them off their asses and moving. And
keep
them moving.”

“I'm working on it skipper. Unfortunately, I'm about out in noncoms though, to do that.”

Renee nodded. “Good. Make a list with Firefly and the XO then. We'll employ a bit of carrot and stick. It's been a while since I've gotten to play the bitch,” she said grinning. The smile didn't touch her eyes. “Bread and water if we have to, though I don't expect it. Pick the best, and we'll promote them if you think it's warranted. Anyone we want out of here in Pyrax, let me know. We'll see if we can get rid of some of the bad apples there.”