Jethro Goes to War (Wandering Engineer Jethro's tale) Read online

“In return for what?” the Matriarch asked, eyes slitting.

  “A small service if it is possible.”

  “I do not trust any who offer so much for seemingly so little,” a white tiger female rumbled. “There are always strings attached,” she growled and spat.

  “Truth,” the Matriarch said and nodded.

  “Wait. I wish; we wish to hear of this,” the harem leader said, looking to the human. The other lioness's nodded.

  The Matriarch's eyes glittered but she nodded. “By all means.”

  “The offer is ah, for only a small group. It is also ah, private...”

  “Then we can discuss it later.” The harem female leader nodded. She fingered a bangle bracelet. “Meet me by the corner in an hour.”

  The Matriarch started to object and then sighed. She knew no matter what she said it would happen anyway.

  “Well then. As I was saying...”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jethro noted the female lioness, Hera, harem leader with the human at the designated spot some time after the clan meeting broke up. The female's fur fluffed. Quietly he went into half cloak, gathering the shadows around him as he crouched watching and listening to them.

  “So we are in agreement?” the human asked. He held out a clipboard computer.

  “Are you so foolish to have this on the net?” the female growled.

  “Of course not. We've even taken the precaution of let’s say... misdirecting the security footage of this section until this is over. Just in case.” The human's toothy smile made Jethro's hackles rise instinctively. Human's just didn't understand that showing teeth was for threats, not amusement. It wasn't something to be taken lightly in other words.

  “No tricks,” the female growled.

  “Just one small favor. That's all. It is in all of our best interests after all,” the human said persuasively. “Think of the fringe benefits.”

  “Yes there is that,” The female growled, eyes glowing. “All right.” She snatched the padd from the human and applied her thumb to the print scanner.

  “Done and done,” the human said smiling as he took the padd back. “Your authorization to board Destiny will arrive after she is ready to take on passengers. I believe that is in ten to fifteen weeks. Do be ready by then.”

  “Of course. And the number?” the female growled.

  “No more than twenty. Make sure they are healthy.”

  “Of course,” the female growled. She scented the air. “Go, the clan nears.”

  The human hastily left. The female looked around for another second or two and then left.

  I wonder what that was about. Jethro thought and then shook himself as his glands closed and he faded back into visibility. What did she agree to do to get on that ship? he thought. He was pretty sure from the scent that it was Hera, leader of the harem, or what's left of it. Then again, it could have been Asia. She is a cousin and they share the same perfume. Then after a few minutes he shrugged it off. He had more important things to worry about. Tomorrow afternoon he would have to report for boot camp pre-processing.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The next morning he snarled as Hrris came in fairly strutting. “You heard the news?” he asked, excited. He ran a hand paw through his scraggly lion's mane. He was starting to fill out, Jethro noticed. They all were.

  Hrris stank of sweat and something more. For years he had stank of machinery and spilled protein shakes. He was one of the few tech savvy members of the clan. Keeping a small army of predatory humanoids supplied with kilos of protein daily was quite an achievement. Jethro grimaced instinctively, scenting the air on his tongue and mouth. “No. What have you been doing? Jacking off again?”

  Hrris snarled as he sat down. Down the way a voice coughed a laugh. He shook himself. “The harem females are in a fine mood,” he said with a tight lipped smile. Was he ever going to live that indiscretion down?

  “Good for them,” Jethro said dismissively.

  “Good for us you mean,” Hrris said slyly.

  “Us?” Jethro asked. He turned to Hrris once more. The Lion male was looking entirely too smug. He caught Jethro's eyes on him and then looked down and licked a paw. His tail twitched behind him.

  “Yes us. Us males. Those of us going or thinking about staying.” He shrugged.

  “Going?” Jethro asked, sitting back. He wasn't sure where this was going.

  “Oh you hadn't heard? Destiny! The harem is going!”

  “Indeed.”

  “So they want to breed with every male they can,” Hrris said smiling smugly. His ears flicked forward. “Though they want a sample as well. I'm not sure why. Maybe to see whose kit is whose.”

  “They plan on going into space pregnant?” an older lynx female down the row asked amused. Hrris looked over to her. “They are bloody fools if they do. Space sickness and morning sickness are no joke,” the female rumbled, shaking her head. She rubbed at her chest. They could see her swollen breasts under the thin shirt. A pair of kit heads peaked out under the cloth. From the look and smell they were newborns.

  “That's their problem,” Jethro said shaking his head. “So they are breeding with as many males as they can? Why? Get their jollies in while they still can?” he asked.

  “Something like that. Or they really were sex starved when they served Leo,” Hrris said slyly. Jethro snorted.

  “Hardly,” The lynx female said, getting up and leaving. They watched her go.

  “So, you are going to get yours in? For the species?” Hrris asked. Jethro shook his head. “Dude! Why not?”

  “Something tells me I'm not quite what they had in mind,” Jethro said and then shrugged. “Are you going with them?” he asked after a moment of thought.

  “According to Hurranna only twenty can go. They chose twelve females and eight males. The males will compete for the slots.” He looked a little wary at the idea. He fingered his tool harness.

  “Combat?” Jethro asked.

  “Possibly.” Hrris tugged at an ear. “But I know my limits. I'm an engineer, I know that now. I've even got a slot now,” he chuffed proudly. Before, he and his family had been the ones responsible for reprogramming the security cameras to ignore them, fixing the life support and power in their area, and the food replicators to reproduce protein the clan needed to survive. Finding a way to get each clan member a minimum of twenty kilos of protein a day had left him scarred in more ways than one.

  Now he had turned those hard learned skills to good use. He was a food replicator tech one and might make the next grade soon. Very soon. Onward and upward as the saying goes. There were a lot of vacancies since the navy was snapping people up. Hrris shook his head. “Fighting tooth and claw with a brute like Chung Li is not my thing,” he indicated the Siberian tiger humanoid in the corner. Jethro looked and then nodded.

  “Point. He'd use you as a scratching post.”

  “Or tie me into a pretzel,” Hrris sighed. “You could do it,” he chuffed, fist thumping the others shoulder. “Mister panther assassin.”

  “When or if I was older. Under the right circumstances sure. But a stand up fight is suicide.” Jethro shook his head. “Even I know better than to go toe to toe with an angry sex starved tiger with females on the line. Especially females in heat. Or who act like it.” He shook his head.

  “Spoil sport.”

  “I wonder if they realize that.”

  “Realize what?” Hrris asked confused.

  “Combat. It'll make only the strongest and dumbest go for it. Or just the strongest. Tigers, ligers, and older lions,” he mused. Sure some of the smarter ones could win, brains over brawn, but he wasn't sure someone smart and fight happy would want to be led around by the gonads.

  “Not many of those. Leo kicked everyone out who could be a threat.”

  “Yes, but we, the clans that is, are reformed. All the cats are here. From all the prides. We've reformed the clan remember?” He indicated the others not of their once small corridor gang.
r />   Hrris looked around and then his ears flicked agreement. Around them were Neo cats of just about every species. Some were mixed breeds, so mixed you could hardly tell what genus was in them. A pair of kits nearby for example. He sniffed. Both had red hair spotted with black and yellow spots. Ringed freckle spots were on their exposed shoulders and faces. They turned, twitching noses to him and then to each other. He looked away.

  “So, they want the big males for protection on whatever world they go to,” Jethro said sitting forward suddenly. “That still doesn't explain why they are mating with every male that can swing his dick.”

  “And some who probably can't,” Hrris said as he rumbled a purring laugh. “Maybe they just want to ramp up the competition?” Hrris asked.

  “Or even their bets,” a voice behind them said. Jethro's eyes slitted. He turned to the female voice. The small cheetah was there. She was the omega female of the group. The omega of his own pride. He wasn't sure why. The Matriarch had said something about the natural dislike lions have for cheetahs. There were only a handful left in the clan. They were a dying breed.

  “What do you mean?” Hrris asked. He didn't have trouble with Cheetahra. Not since she patched his hand up a couple years ago. Nasty electrical burn.

  “They got a human med tech to give them a sample kit. They are getting samples from each male they mate with. Even those that remain behind.”

  “Samples?”

  “Sperm. For later. They can use in-vitro fertilization methods later on to impregnate themselves or others if they store the samples right.”

  “Oh.” Jethro nodded. “Interesting. So the clan can be reformed? Reborn on another world?”

  “Or it is to make sure they have enough genetic diversity. I think the genealogist Martel gave them the idea when she came around the other day and talked about it.”

  “Or grandam and her lectures,” Jethro said nodding.

  “You are not one of the ones going though,” Hrris said glancing to Jethro and then back to the female.. “So how...”

  “How do I know?” she asked rumbling a chirrupy laugh. “Simple. I was there when they asked. I had to help them since they didn't know what they wanted.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I'm going too,” she said and smiled a tight lipped smile. Her ears flicked. “I've been saving my money to go for some time. A little here, a little there.” She made catching motions with her hand paws. Not only was she a medic, as a sprinter she'd run pick up races or worked as a message runner for the clan. Knowing her speed she may have even acted as a pick pocket from time to time without anyone the wiser. “I've got enough now that the price is down. I've already got a ticket and a reservation,” she purred. She held up a wrist. Around it was a gold bracelet. It had an indenti-chip embedded in it. “Right now I'm saving up as much as I can and learning everything I can. That way I can hit the ground running.”

  “Typical for a cheetah,” Hrris laughed.

  “Stereotype,” Cheetahra purred.

  “Good for you,” Jethro said nodding.

  “You could come too,” she said, eying him.

  “I've got other things in mind,” he chuffed, and then shook his head turning away. “I've got to go, I've got Marine pre-proccessing and stuff this afternoon then training begins in the morning.” He got up, waved and left, feeling smug at their wide eyed looks.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Why are we going through with this? This training?” gunny Thompskins asked shaking his head. “We didn't need it after all.”

  Schultz hid an sigh. It figures. The blow hard would pitch a snit the night before the basic course opened up. And he'd save it for the meeting. Hopefully he could be put down fast so they could get onto business. They still had a hell of a lot to get done in less than fourteen hours. Doc and the corporals were handling pre-processing. So far everything was going smoothly.

  “Actually we do. But unfortunately, someone has to be in charge,” Major Forth replied with a sigh. “We're trying to rebuild an institution. Not just the habits and training that will hopefully keep them alive in combat, but the traditions and infrastructure as well.”

  “So it's best to start at the beginning,” Lieutenant Pendeckle said with a nod. “We need them to go through this. Hell, so do we. To build a unifying force.”

  “But all this...” The gunny frowned and then tapped his finger on the desk near the padd in front of him. “Renting a park deck? Is that necessary? Six months for boot? Seriously? Can't we make do with sims?”

  “Sims are just that; a game. We need good hands on training. It's one thing to play a VR game. It's quite another to be there in person. Sweating it out, getting your hands dirty. Getting hurt for real is a bit different than in a vid. No time outs, no stress cards, no pee breaks,” Schultz growled. He gave the other gunny a disgusted look. He wasn't sure why they had made Thomspkins a gunny as well, the guy didn't have a clue sometimes, and loved to slack off. “And no off switch. This is actually just the tip of the iceberg,” Gunnery Sergeant Schultz growled.

  The others looked at him. “This is the bare minimum we think we can train for with the facilities and staff we have in the allotted time for basic. We've got other courses afterward for more advanced training,” he grimaced. “Which we'll have to share with the Navy, and police forces when the time comes.”

  “But camouflage? Who needs that in space?” Thompskins asked with a sneer.

  “You clearly need to brush up on your space assault tactics then,” the major said with a head shake. “The closer you can get to a target before you are seen... You know what, another time. This isn't the time for that discussion,” he said firmly trying to keep on the agenda.

  “Besides, we may not be on a planet now, but that doesn't mean we wont be deployed on one sometime in the future. It pays to be prepared,” Schultz added.

  “Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance,” the Major said as he nodded and then looked around the room. He made sure to lock eyes with each of them. He knew Schultz was on board. The others were on the fence or were more inclined for an abbreviated course. He sat up straight and knitted his fingers together. “A set standard is vital.”

  “Half of the training period is going to be just getting them up to an acceptable standard. And of course weeding out the undesirables,” Pendeckle added. Schultz suppressed a growl as the Lieutenant looked his way.

  “Who here hasn't realized that this class, and most likely the classes that follow for the next few years will be the leadership of the corps in a few years? We need to get them on the right footing from day one and keep them there. It is going to be hard. We're going to screw up. Hell, WE don't have the training at all! Just because we wear the uniform doesn't mean we're at all qualified! For some we're making it up as we go along. We'll have to deal with that. So will they. We're not asking for perfection in the first class. But we do need to get them sorted out and get the ball rolling now. We'll be learning as much if not more than they will.”

  “Yes sir,” Schultz nodded, eying the officers and enlisted at the table. “We've got six hundred and fifty seven in this class. Six platoons. I'll be happy if we can graduate half that.”

  “Ouch,” Thompskins winced. “Seriously? I'd want a bit more.”

  “If they can't hack it, they can't hack it. We'll have to build them up slowly, but we need to figure out those we want to fast track right away. We've got three officers and fourteen senior non commissioned officers. That is way too few chiefs for way too many indians folks. So keep an eye out for the stars,” Major Forth said.

  It was a pain in the ass for his manning tables. The only ships with officers were Firefly and Sun-Yat. The officer in charge of training would rotate with whatever ship was in port. The noncoms were going to have to carry the ball for the training. Hopefully they were up for it. He changed mental tracks quickly, trying to think of something, anything that would work, but unfortunately drawing a blank. Fortunately most of the other ships h
ad small crews so he didn't need large marine compliments on the gunships. But he wanted an officer on each as soon as possible.

  “Yes sir,” his subordinates said or mumbled.

  “We may have discipline problems sir. I mean, I can only be in so many places at the same time. We've got two assistant instructors for each platoon, a dumb AI keeping watch, and each gunny is handling three platoons... but still,” Thompskins said and waved helplessly. “Stuff is going to be missed and fall through the cracks.”

  “Any problems come up, handle them,” the Major said with finality. “Or if it is very serious and warrants my attention, I will,” he grimaced. When he was in port of course. Technically he should detach himself from Firefly and oversee the training personally. He was still wrestling with that decision. “We're short handed across the board. This is going to put holes in our manning tables on the ships until this class graduates. So handle it.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “We're running them through the basic wringer right away. Right after the initial fitness evaluation Commander Thornby and Commander Standish are running them through right now. Then we are running them through psych evals over the next three days. After that we've got a day or two of testing to get a handle on their education. We need to get rid of the dead weight right off so we can focus on those who have the guts to stick to the job. Hope you've got your running shoes.” Schultz growled, smiling evilly to the other gunny.

  “Crap,” Thompskins sighed, sitting back. He knew he was outvoted. Not that this was a democracy or anything. Knowing which way the wind was blowing and going with it was the only safe course left now though.

  “You want a piece of advice? Show them you can handle the same thing right off from the start. Lead from example, and put the fear of you into them from day one. Scare the ever loviin' piss out of them and I guarantee you there wont be many disciplinary problems. Land full force on each and every transgression right away with both boots and they will learn to toe the line. Or at least to shut up and act like they can,” Schultz said with a shrug as the others looked at him. “That's my plan anyway.”