Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (62 page)

“I see,” Jethro said. “Well, if I'm in the system long, and the same goes for the rest of the crew, maybe we can get together sometime.”

“I'd like that,” she said with a laugh. “Though next time someone
else
gets to prop the fat ass up if he gets smashed,” she growled. Jethro laughed as they parted. She blew him a kiss in passing and then she was gone.

Chapter 27

“So, things are getting back to normal?” Thornby asked, looking at the rest of the command team. They had meetings every other day when possible, daily if there was something important in the works. Sometimes the meetings were productive, but sometimes they were rant sessions. She knew they needed to blow off steam, but they also needed to coordinate their activities and move along with the Admiral's plan.

Firefly's departure from the system the other day had been the last good blow. The media coverage had soured everyone's mood. Her orders weren't public knowledge, so John Q Public didn't understand why their best ship was going off in the opposite direction of the enemy. There was some speculation about cowardice and others about a possible attack coming from that direction. Public affairs was dealing with the hysterics the best they could.

“Goddess of space I hope not. Not for what passes for normal around here,” Horatio growled. “True,” Thornby said. She looked at him then shrugged. “I can't help but wonder what would have happened had Firefly and her people come in just a couple months sooner.”

“Yes, I know. It's over and done with though,” Ensign Barry said. “And we've settled the fleet down. The Yard construction is picking up steam?” he asked, looking at Horatio. Horatio nodded. “But that still leaves the horrid mess we're in. Anything on the tax front?”

Horatio snorted and shook his head. “They'll look into it,” he quoted, using his fingers to air quote.”

“Yep, right back to business as usual,” Thornby growled. “It didn't take them long at all did it?” she asked, sounding thoroughly disgusted. From the expression of the others around the room she was pretty sure she wasn't the only one feeling that way.

“Don't you just love it how his damn Neo and Alien tax worked out. Not only did he alienate them, but they left the system in droves. That blew one whole demographic all to hell, the one most slated against him anyway,” Decius said. Montgomery nodded.

“True. And I noticed he offered to repeal it even though the courts had suspended it, again, but once he was re-elected he dropped it,” Ensign Barry said. “That was an obvious political ploy, a sop to his opponents to undermine their base.”

“Yes. I so can't believe it worked,” Thornby sighed. “So, Walker didn't get thrown out of office like he so richly deserved. The bastards even re-elected him. Sometimes I wonder about the universe,” she said giving the JAG officer a look. “You need to do something about that. Justice really is blind, but this is getting ridiculous,” she growled.

Jeremy spread his hands apart. “My hands are unfortunately tied, ma'am. He's got the attorney general and district attorney's across the system in his pocket.”

“Not to mention Long and his people. But I did notice some changes here and there. They may have cracks in their foundation,” Decius said.

“You've got to love the timing of those discoveries though. They timed them to come out perfectly. His people must have had those tucked away for a while. It covered his opponents in corruption scandals and muddied the waters for them. Fernando's death...” Horatio shook his head giving Monty a look. The intelligence officer just spread his hands slightly apart. “That opened the running to everyone. That meant they divided up between them. Divide and conquer. All that evidence dumped on Knox was just a bit too convenient if you ask me. All those blue ribbon panels and people coming forward...” he shook his head in disgust at the carefully coordinated plan. He had to admire it. “People moved away from them in droves. Better the fox you know, then the one you don't.”

“Yes, sir. Sucks though,” Jeremy said.

“Yes, yes it does. It does indeed,” Horatio sighed. “Four more years with that slime in charge.”

“Yes, sir. Thinking of a transfer to Antigua?” Decius asked. He cocked his head.

“Don't tempt me,” Horatio replied with a grunt.

“Well, Decius is the man to see about that,” Thornby teased with a grin. She shook her head. “We've got to get through this, I've got an appointment in...” she looked off for a moment and then grunted in irritation. “Ten minutes.”

Horatio nodded. “All right, moving on...”

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

Now that death and doom wasn't pending, the red tape brigade kicked in with a vengeance it seemed. Jethro and all the Marines involved in combat in Antigua space, as well as all naval personnel still in the system had been ordered to go through a psych debrief and evaluation. A security eval was also attached since most of the personnel were overdue. A few had their contracts up, most signed back on immediately. The few hold outs signed on after a day or two to think it over. Only two sailors quit.

Marines and all of the spacers involved in combat had to go through a series of psych evals, some of it was combat related, but some was related to an ongoing security review. Apparently Command considered it overdue after the operation in Antigua, and now Beta101a1 just put more emphasis that it needed to be done.

Apparently the psychologists had identified some psych issues with recruits Admiral Irons had made, which was expected. All had been slaves to Horathians. All of that was also in their records, but apparently still not good enough for the people in the white coats. Rubber rooms and drugs were the joke of the day in the mess.

The psych team tried to cycle them through fast since Firefly was taking on fuel and stores in order to go to Gaston in a few days. There was some annoyance at that, but when word came down that Valenko's squad was to remain behind they were bumped to the very bottom of the list. Jethro didn't know if he should be grateful or annoyed by it. On the one hand, he'd wanted to get it over with, but on the other, he liked the reprieve. Until there was time they were temporarily assigned to the Annex and San Diego while waiting for transport back to Agnosta.

They were assigned make-work, sessions guarding a post, shuffling paperwork, working a recruiting office on Anvil, mixed with liberal doses of liberty on the station in the evenings. It was light duty, and a nice change for some after the grueling months of training and combat they'd recently experienced. To Jethro it was again another mixed blessing. He felt restless and bored, but he knew he needed to decompress.

Jethro took his turn, listened to the grumbling as others thought it was a monumental waste of time, but knew it had a purpose. They needed it, needed to know someone listened, someone cared. And deep down, they knew that passing yet another test, for that was what many saw it as, was vindication that they and their comrades were okay and ready to soldier on.

Bastet got involved in Jethro's debrief. The AI added flavor and humor, listened as he talked and occasionally she sampled his emotions. When he felt off he felt her comfort him and purr in sympathy and understanding when he described a loss of a comrade.

Only those who had seen combat or were flagged by their implants were seen by the most experienced head shrinkers and set aside for additional debrief. “Gee, lucky us. More time with the head shrinkers,” Sergei growled.

“Hush,” Harley said, poking him. The big Liger quieted, rubbing his ribs.

Word got around that for the most part it was a cake walk. You talked about what happened, they sampled your emotional state through your implants, and then you were checked off good to go. But since Valenko's squad had taken casualties and had a fatality, mandatory grief counseling was required as well.

“It's not like I was there. It sucks,” Jethro said in disgust.

“Do you blame yourself for that?” The therapist asked. She was a reservist, a blond female named Edna Chelsi. She'd shook hands with him politely, but seemed a bit nervous, most likely about his species. She'd gotten down to business though.

Jethro wrinkled his muzzle, ears flat. “I was on a mission. I followed orders.”

“But do you blame yourself?” The woman persisted.

“No. Yes.” Jethro sighed and then shrugged, flicking his tail. “Sort of. I wish I had known Fonz would have done that. He had been a bit cocky in sims, but I honestly thought he'd matured and grown out of it.”

“And he hadn't?” The woman asked.

“No,” Jethro said sighing in frustration. “No, apparently not. And now he never will.”

The therapist frowned, studying the notes on the incident. “He rushed a position...”

“As point you have to move fast. But he was reckless. I don't know what was going through his head. Other than that damn plasma bolt,” Jethro growled.

The therapist looked up with a frown. “That's...pretty dark, Sergeant,” she said quietly.

Jethro shrugged. “It happens. Shit happens,” he sighed. He hated being stuck on his back on the couch. You'd think the humans would realize Neos didn't like to be on their backs; it made them feel helpless. This one was also a classic; she wanted him that way instead of in a chair. He wondered if it was deliberate, to make him feel vulnerable.

“You were...” the therapist paused to check the log, “securing the command center. Good. You should receive a medal. You did that on your own?”

“I'm good at being a loner, doc,” the panther replied. “It's part of my sniper training. Besides, we only had the one prototype rocket pack.”

“Ah. I see...and you took out...this can't be right. This has to be inflated. Thirty enemy???”

“No, thirty-one, doc.” Jethro replied, flicking his ears, this time in amusement. His grass green eyes flicked to her briefly, then away. “It's what I do,” he said, meeting her eyes.

“Oh...um...” she looked away, suddenly very much aware she was trapped in a room with a predator.

“Doc, why am I here? I've lost members of my team before,” Jethro said. “I've had training on how to handle it.”

“You have?” The woman asked in confusion. “I thought no one had been in combat, wait, a training exercise?”

“Well, that too I suppose,” Jethro said, remembering the disastrous training op on that rock years ago. An entire boot platoon had been chewed up by the experience, less than half had survived. “First Agnostan Recon expedition was where I saw real combat for the first time doc. We lost Miles and Chirby then. I was wounded, so were a few of the others,” Jethro said stiffly.

The therapist blinked in confusion and then checked his records for verification. When she did she looked back at him. “Oh, so you've um, seen combat before.”

“Yes. Antigua wasn't my first dance with death,” Jethro said, mind flicking through various images of combat.

“You have a funny way of putting things,” the human therapist said, cocking her head.

Jethro flicked his whiskers a bit, a slight shrug was all his answer.

“So, why did your implants flag you...um, hmm. It seems you had an incident before. In Agnosta? Related to the combat you just mentioned?”

“No. I...” Jethro sighed. “Doc, it was just a nightmare. Honest. Everyone has them from time to time. I had a couple after, but it's not combat related.”

“Not...so what is it about?” The woman asked in confusion.

“You...fine. If you must know, I was in F platoon,” Jethro sighed, sitting back.

“F? You mean Foxtrot?”

“No, F as in First. F as in Gunny Schultz's boot platoon from hell,” Jethro said succinctly. He flicked his tail in annoyance.

“Oh,” the therapist frowned, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “Oh!” she said, as her eyes went wide. Apparently she had now made the connection. They were that much of a legend he knew.

“Yeah. We...we took on an orbital drop sim. We...it went bad. We ended up in the infirmary.”

“We as in...” She asked carefully.

“We as in the entire platoon. Including the gunny. It was that rough.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened fractionally in support and slight distress. “Oh my.”

Jethro nodded, ears flat. “Yes. I...it was a...
learning
experience. But well, I had a close call in Agnosta space. I can't go into details; I don't know what parts are classified or not. It was similar to the drop and it...”

The woman nodded when he stopped. After a moment she cleared her throat and said it for him. “Echoed. It brought the first incident up. You repressed the first incident?”

Jethro nodded ever so slightly. “I didn't so much as repress it as, well, we got busy.”

She nodded. “And it was forgotten. But it lingered.”

“I guess so. I learned to deal with fear, and now that I've had some combat and some drops I think I'd do better on that sim. But I'd still have some fear.”

“Anxiety,” she said.

“Yes. But I wouldn't let it stop me.”

“That's a Marine for you, too stupid to let fear govern you,” the therapist teased. He glanced at her. She was smiling to take the sting out of her statement. He snorted.

“Stupid and brave doc,” the Marine replied. His implants chimed. “That's time. I've got to get moving,” he said, checking the reminder. He had ten minutes to get to his post.