Jethro: First to Fight (29 page)

Finally she presented an affidavit from
a qualified medic stating a list of injuries to her client, as well as a bill.
She didn't call her defendant to the stand.

“Ensign?” the judge asked as the woman
made a show of sitting and not quite smirking for the cameras.

The Ensign looked up from his tablet and
nodded. “Yes your honor. May we see that footage again? The entire footage, not
just the little bit that Miss Gera helpfully played. I'd like the court to see
what was left out.”

“Objection!”

“Why? It's your evidence,” the Ensign
replied mildly.

“Ensign, kindly address your comments to
me, not to another party,” Judge Farley interjected rather frostily.

“Sorry your honor,” the Ensign replied.

“I too wish to see the entire record of
the incident in question miss Gera.”

“I don't have it. I was only given these
portions to prove our case.”

“Right. Well, we can subpoena them.”

“Perhaps your honor, but we also have
the Private and his implants. Also the implants of others that witnessed the
altercation, as well as their statements,” the Ensign said, waving to indicate
a group of people behind him. Miss Gera turned and frowned.

“Your honor, I object. We have no list
of these witnesses,” she said. “As such we haven't had time to vet any of
them.”

“Nor have you taken a statement from the
Private. But I am interested in getting to the bottom of this. Please proceed
Ensign, for now your objection is overruled Miss Gera. I may revisit it in a
moment though,” the judge said, nodding politely to her.

She frowned and seemed to want to object
again, but finally sat quietly.

“Ensign?” the judge asked as the Ensign
took a chip and plugged it into the vid screen. “Ah.”

The video started with a time chop five
minutes before the incident. It played all the way through for the entire hour
before it ended with the arrival of the station police. “As you can see, Miss
Gera has left quite a bit out, like the taunting, the setting up of the
camera's by her client, as well as her client physically getting in the way of
my client and then further insulting him.”

“I object your honor! I haven't seen
this, nor was it in any of the witness statement!” Miss Gera said, getting to
her feet.

“And I wonder why,” the judge replied
dryly.

“Your honor, I'd also like to call
Doctor Thornby to the stand. She is head of the Anvil medical establishment as
well as the head of medicine for the system.”

“I see. Doctor Thornby?” the judge
called, glancing her way. She rose. “Please come forward.”

The doctor came forward, murmuring to
people as they moved their legs out of the way, or in one case, a camera bot.
Finally she stepped up to the witness box. She raised her hand and swore the
oath to tell the truth then took a seat.

“Doctor, perhaps you can shed some light
on why you are here?” the judge asked, leaning back and propping his face up
with one finger and his knuckles.

The doctor nodded as the Ensign handed
her the medical statement from Miss Gera's table. “I hadn't seen this, but...”
she looked it over and pursed her lips in an angry frown. “When this came
forward I queried all of the medical facilities on the station. Mister Yurelli
was never admitted to any of them. This statement is bogus,” she said, handing
it to the judge. “The doctor who signed it isn't even on the station. He is on
the capital colony and serves as a chiropractor.”

Miss Gera's male counterpart muttered an
oh shit that a few in the court room behind him caught. That started a murmur
behind him. He pulled Miss Gera to the side and murmured to her for a moment.

“I see,” Judge Farley replied, eying
mister Yurelli. “In your medical expertise can you tell me if his damage is
valid or not?”

“Without having examined him your
honor?” Thornby asked, smiling a crockered smile.

“Just from here,” he said.

“Well, first off, two black eyes? He was
punched once, on the left side. I can understand some damage, the Private has
enhanced strength, but he also pulled his punch.”

“How so?” the judge asked.

“Because, if he hadn't, mister Yurelli
would have been dead. Even at half strength.”

“Oh.”

“I'm scanning him now with my implants.
From this distance I can't see any broken bones. There is some swelling, but
not much. I can't tell from this distance if he has soft tissue damage in his
neck however. It might be strained, but I'd have to do a scan or two to be
sure.”

“I see.”

“Miss Gera, we do need to settle this.
Perhaps we should recess so Doctor Thornby or another qualified medic can examine
your client.”

“Your honor! That is an intrusion into
my client's right to privacy!”

“You brought up his injury and entered
it into the official record counselor. That gives the defendant the right to
question the injury. Since there are questions over its validity, I think we
need to have them settled.”

“Your honor!” she protested. Her male
counterpart tugged on her arm. She frowned, and leaned over to him. They
whispered fiercely. Finally she frowned and straightened. “Your honor, in light
of the testimony, my client will drop the case.”

“I see,” the judge replied. “I'm still
interested in a fraud case. And then there is the perjury involved here. Does
the defendant wish to drop the case?” he asked, turning to the Ensign.

“The civil case your honor? Or the
others you mentioned?” The Ensign asked. Doctor Thornby got up but the judge
motioned for her to sit back down. “The criminal cases aren't my jurisdiction,
they belong to you and to my co-counselor of course,” he said bowing slightly
to the ADA on the other side of the Private.

“This is bull,” Mister Yurelli growled,
getting to his feet. He pulled the halo off as his two attorneys tried to stop
him from leaving. “What? We're done here! This is over. You said I'd get all
kinds of money! You said they'd piss themselves to settle! Well lady, that
didn't happen! You said that we'd be the one giving them a black eye in the
end! Stupid broad! I'm gone!” Their efforts to shush him only made him madder.
The courtroom burst into an uproar as he wiped makeup off his face. “I look
like a damn whore! All for nothing!”

“Sit down Mister Yurelli!” the judge
said coldly, slapping his gavel. He motioned to a pair of bailiffs to restrain
the man. Yurelli struggled but then settled after a moment, staring defiantly
and sullenly about himself.

“Miss Gera, I see we have a serious
contempt of court issue. Not only have you and others conspired to pull one
over on this court, with perjury, false evidence, and theatrics, you've shown a
decided disregard for any hint of truth or justice. I find your actions
contemptible in the most heinous, most criminal way. I will see you disbarred
for this actions,” he snarled.

He turned to the defendants. “Private,
you have my apology for this farce. Next time son, walk away though.”

The Private nodded but remained grimly
silent. There was just a hint of triumph in his eyes and demeanor for being
vindicated in such fashion though. The judge snorted and turned to Mister
Yurelli.

“Mister Yurelli,” he drawled. “I am sure
the district attorney's office is working on a inciting to riot case among
other things. I strongly suggest you find more... adequate counsel soon. You
will need it. Until then, you will be remanded for contempt of court until I
say otherwise.”

“Miss Winters, please see my court
recorder later for a full copy of these proceedings,” the judge said, gavel
hovering. Finally he rapped it. “I rule in favor of the defendant. Case
dismissed.”

Jethro and the other Marines and naval
personnel watching the entire proceedings with their implants or on vid screens
all cheered.

Outside the media split into three
groups, one each for the two parties and another interviewing the various
witnesses. “I wouldn't say he got off lightly,” the Ensign said, shaking his
head. NJP can be hard. He's obviously been demoted one rank, lost a month's
pay, and he'll be confined to quarters for a month. To a Marine that can be a
bit harsh, especially when he and other Marines were baited. I've seen the
other reports, which unfortunately didn't enter the official record. But this
was obviously a coordinated effort by dozens of parties for some political gain
that,” he smiled. “Backfired. That is my prepared statement ladies and
gentlemen, have a good day,” he said, clapping the Private on the shoulder and
leading him away.

“Good for him.”

“The Ensign?”

“No, Holder. He kept his mouth shut the
entire time. Smart. Too smart for him really, someone had to be on his ass. He
probably had someone riding him through his implants to make sure he kept his
trap shut.”

“I bet,” Sergei snorted.

“Just be glad it wasn't one of us. Could
you imagine if it had been? Claws anyone?”

“Oh boy,” Hurranna sighed as they
watched the media turn to the other camps. Yurelli was arrested, and his
attorneys abandoned him in a drive to get away as fast as possible. That amused
the hell out of the Marines.

The media went into a frenzy as talking
heads started to spin the incident for their own gains. “Turn it off,” Hurranna
said in disgust, turning away.

In the evening news Miss Gera put out a
statement that the judge had obviously been biased and she was considering an
appeal. The next morning her law firm quietly announced that she had been
fired.

Once he was free of the crowd, Jethro
was drawn to the armory. He wasn't really sure why, but the urge to see his
armor was there, almost overpowering. He had a lot to do, duty, checking in on
the latest ROE changes, that sort of thing, but for some reason he
had
to go see his suit.

Riley was amused when he noted the
panther checking his suit out, staring at it in its locker behind the counter.
The armorer kept it near since it was the most advanced suit and it impressed
the hell out of all his visitors when they saw it. Everyone wanted one, even
him. “It's still there, right where you left it,” he said dryly, picking at the
pile of parts on the counter without looking up. Jethro nodded silently. He
felt something, a weight lifting the moment he was on Firefly, and he realized
he'd been under a bit of a cloud until he made his way to the suit.

“Any problems?” Jethro asked, jacking
into a port on the suit's right arm. He felt something, a trickle of data that
was immediately walled off. It wasn't like he'd understand any of it anyway, it
was encrypted. Still, he wasn't sure what was going on. It had started as a
standard handshake protocol identifying him, but then had quickly gone far
beyond his limited understanding of code.

He turned, his shield and wings were
stored in racks behind the armor.

“No,” Riley said with a shrug. “We've
got another squad to sort out. The Commander picked up some odd pieces in
trade. I'm guessing a few pieces were from the Neo armor that came with your
suit.”

“Really?” Jethro asked, flicking his
ears. The matriarch had said that they'd cannibalized the suits in order to pay
for various things over the centuries. “Still working?”

Riley made a face. “Some of it. The
electronics were crap of course, military self destruct and all that. But the
frames and shells were there. One was pretty warped.”

“Warped?”

“Dunno,” Riley shrugged, crossing his
arms. “Must of seen some action. One was damn near radioactive too. I thought
it'd glow in the dark. We got some tricks for that. Drew out the neutrino's and
it's clean.”

“Cool.”

“It's all good. Well, once I've got it
sorted out and back together,” Riley replied, waving to the parts on the
counter. Jethro looked at them. There were piles of parts, wiring harnesses,
and actuators. Riley had a system, but only Ox could figure it out. Jethro had
worked with the armorer now for months and he was still lost. “I've got it all
inventoried so don't muck it up.”

Jethro held his hands up. “Sure, I mean,
no problem. I won't touch a thing. Can I get some suit time?” he asked.

“Something up?”

“No, just been thinking about it for a
while.”

“Well, no, no joy rides. Sorry sonny,
boss's orders and all,” Riley said, picking up a rag to polish a wrench. He saw
the panther's ears sag. “But I suppose you can check her over for her weekly
maintenance check up. That'll save me doing it.”

Jethro's ears went from flat to perked
up in an instant. “Thanks Riley,” he said.

“I must be getting soft in the head or
something,” Riley muttered, letting the panther past and into the suit up room.

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

Discipline problems cropped up. Soldiers
were people, they were tightly controlled and wound most of the time, that
built up a lot of angst that needed a way to express itself, a release valve.
Some found proper outlets to such energy, but others didn't. MP's and DI's
landed on each incident hard. But fights were becoming more of a problem with
the crowding in the boots barracks, as well as between squids and jarheads.
Some people who volunteered and were waiting on their colonies to be picked up
were now rethinking or terminating their contracts.

NCIS and ONI were all over each
incident. As was JAG to clean up the mess. The exposure was good in some ways,
each department gained in both prestige and experience. Their fair handling of
each investigation helped with their prestige. Some of the more uglier
incidents garnered media attention. Horatio allowed the media into the
courtroom to film it which started a media courtroom broadcast interest. Also
an interest in JAG and NCIS. There was even talk of reality networks or shows
based on those branches.

In a rare move Logan shifted some of the
veterans and some of the contractors to man the completed stations. It was a
drop in the bucket but it showed some progress was being made. He also
accelerated the hab construction in San Diego and shifted a few hundred people
there to live and work to improve the base.

San Diego was still a problem, the giant
Bernal sphere had only one functional micro fusion reactor on board. It relied
almost totally on power beamed to it from the growing solar farms. Heating
inside was troublesome, the largest energy drain. The metal structures within
the base bled of heat quite quickly. So did trying to keep the kilometer
diameter salt water pool for the Ssilli heated. Ice was reported to be floating
on the surface of the habitat.

“We've got to do something, and soon,”
Jethro observed. Pressure was mounting to either go to Agnosta or scrap the
idea and throw every resource the navy had at maintaining San Diego.

Apparently the governor was starting to
bring this internal Navy debate to the public eye, he was pressuring the navy
to drop Agnosta and throw everything at San Diego, even trying for system
loyalty. “Guilt trip. Yeah right.”

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

Jethro looked at his partner for the
shift. They were guarding the starboard drive room, only naval personnel on
watch were to be allowed in. That or officers. He was a bit dubious about his
partner, he was definitely so new he squeaked. He wasn't sure if his human
partner understood the rules, he was a noob, a new boots. He was a new guy, a
recent recruit from out of the system with rather sketchy training reported in
his implant IFF. From their occasional soft talks the panther had picked up
that the guy was a descendant of Samoans and a Hawaiian colony on New Haven.
Apparently Marines ran in the family, his family had a lot of them running back
far before mankind left long lost Earth. He rather excitedly told Jethro about
his great great great grandfather, who had recently died. He'd sat at the old
man's feet and listened to him tell stories of being a Marine Sergeant during
the Xeno war. When he'd heard about Pyrax he and two of his cousins had cashed
in everything they had to get here to join up.  

Captain Pendeckle came by, most likely inspecting
the Marines to make sure they were doing their jobs properly Jethro realized.

“Everything all right here Marines?” the
Captain asked in passing.

“Aloha Captain. E maika'i ana nã mea a
pu.”

“What? What did you just say?” the
Captain asked, coming to a stop.

“Sorry sir, he's new.”

“I wasn't talking to you Corporal,” the
Captain said coldly. His eyes bored into the new recruit.

The big guy straightened. “Sorry sir. It
means 'everything will be all right,'” the big guy replied.

“What's your name son?” Captain
Pendeckle demanded, scanning the Marine. He could get it off the Marine's
Identity Friend or Foe package, but wanted to hear it anyway.

Something apparently told the Marine
he'd put his foot in it. “Private second class Keoni Nahele. It means  God
is gracious and Forest. I'm from New Haven.”

Pendeckle eyed the Marine. “I don't need
a lecture on what it means or where you are from. You however need to re-read
your orders son. You also need to work on your protocol. Understood?” he asked,
sending an e-mail to the young man's acting DI to get the kid straightened out.
Soon enough the kid was going to wish he'd never been born.

“Shoots sir.”

“Shoots? Shoot what? No...” the Captain
shook his head in annoyance. He rubbed his brow.

“No ali'i, Shoots means yes,” the big
guy explained, hands apart. “Chief, I mean, um, sir.”

Captain Pendeckle stared at him for a
long moment. “Oh. Son, for your information, in the navy and the Marines we
usually say Aye aye.”

“Oh.”

“You're a Marine now son. Act like it.”

“Roger d'at,” the big guy said with an
enthusiastic nod. Captain Pendeckle just rolled his eyes. Jethro looked at the
human in amusement. “What?” the big guy finally asked.

“I'm just trying to determine if you
were pulling his leg or not. It's not wise to mess with officers. They tend to
mess back with shit details.”

“Oh.” The big guy looked thoughtful and
then nodded. “Roger d'at.” Then he frowned. “I mean aye aye.”

“Right,” Jethro drawled, using his
implants to send the kid his copy of the rules of standing watch once more. It
was going to be a
long
shift.

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

Logan and the senior staff received a
clearer presentation of ideas from Riley through Firefly. Major Forth was on
hand as Firefly presented the ideas. Forth was amused when he heard that Riley
had even sent off an e-mail clearly stating he didn't want a promotion and
they'd better not or he'd bust some heads to get back to where he wanted to
be.  That was classic Riley through and through.

“I've run simulations of the design.
It's not as effective as a straight up fort, but it is the equivalent of having
a cruiser on station. With a carrier group, it's even better. That would
significantly magnify our firepower on station and give us some flexibility in
defense and logistics.”

“It's all workable? Everything?” Thornby
asked.

“We are taking what the Sergeant said to
heart and the designers are working on the new path even as we speak. I know a
few were put out over who came up with the idea, but now that they've gotten over
the initial outrage and stopped pouting,” the AI paused as Thornby and Logan
started to chuckle. When they finished snickering he continued. “They're taking
the concepts and running with them.”

“Ah. Good,” Logan replied. “Then we can
get into building the things. Good, good. I'll pass the word. We can always cut
tunnels for missile launchers to be installed later,” he said.

“And mounts for energy weapons and
turrets to be added later,” Major Forth said, nodding in turn.

“Good. Now, about the crusher. We need a
way to weed out and nurture the potential crop of ship commanders. Pruning back
some ego's would be a good thing. So, the advanced tactical school.”

“San Diego?”

Logan nodded. “Of course. A dedicated
station would be ideal but we're talking ship simulators, so we can do that in
San Diego and concentrate our resources. Now, we'll need a staff,” he turned to
Matilda. She hated wearing so many hats, but preened a bit when he told her she
did it so well. “And other things...”

Matilda sighed. She'd known Horatio for
years, he wasn't the only one struggling to fill a pair of shoes he thought was
too big for him. She was G-3 schools, as well as Dean of the Anvil College, and
now acting Dean of the military academy. She was torn in 3 different
directions. Throw in being a parent to a teenage granddaughter now exploring
dating and it was no wonder she was a bit snippy. “Get me facilities and we'll
talk staff. You can, I assume, rotate sitting captains and their XO's through
there? Both for training purposes and as guest instructors?”

“Sure, when their ships are in dock for
repairs or refit,” Logan replied with a nod. “Or if they're between assignments
or getting off or on limited medical duty,” he expanded.

“Light duty,” Doctor Thornby agreed.

“That's fine. The problem is we need
proven combat commanders in positions of authority, you don't want someone
who's never seen combat running the show. Which limits our pool of candidates,”
Matilda sighed.

“Well, we've got time before we settle
this. Right now we'll lay the foundations, or in San Diego's case, cut them and
then get the interiors set up. I'd say another 3 months before the facilities
are ready.”

“Fine then,” Matilda said. “I'll have my
list by then. I can have the general staff in before then of course.”

“Yes, but I'd like a command staff in
place...”

“You'd lose at least one Captain you
know. Harris or Mayweather are on the top of my list,” the dean replied.

Horatio frowned. “I'd rather not lose
any of them. I know none will be keen on going. I may have to make it
mandatory. A rotating command slot. A quarter in the role then they can go back
to their ship,” he sighed.

“Ouch,” Major Forth replied. “Glad I'm a
Marine.”

“Yes, you do have combat experience,”
Matilda replied. “Don't you?”

“In hand to hand and leading men on the
ground. Ships are out of my element and comfort zone,” the Major replied. The
woman snorted.

“We'll figure it out,” Horatio sighed.

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

Captain Pendeckle frowned at the Major
as the Major entered the ward room. “What? Do I have a stain again?” Major
Forth demanded, looking down at his uniform front.