Jethro: First to Fight (17 page)

The ship boarding had been a blast, it
was supposed to be an exercise in frustration. Instead the team serving as the
opposition force had been frustrated when they had thrown the by the book
approach out the window and used their own tactics and strategy to secure the
ship. The expression on the opposition's faces had been treasured and hooted
about for weeks by F platoon.

“How can we get close enough to do it?”
Valenko asked.

“And what do we do when we get there?”
Sergei asked.

“All good questions,” Ox rumbled. “I for
one am still busy helping to design one of our own forts.”

“We have to get to the station, through
the point defense fire. Say a kinetic strike or missile strike to blow her
shields down and strip away point defense...”

“What about a stealthy approach?” Jethro
asked.

The bear looked at him and then grunted.
“You and your suit?” Jethro flicked his ears in a casual yes. “It's certainly
possible. But how are you going to get there? Walk? A shuttle or drop pod would
be seen.”

“Shit.”

“You just like the idea of getting in
and hogging all the fun,” Sergei teased, nudging the panther. Jethro snorted.

“I like the idea of getting in and
shutting the defenses down so the rest of you can join in on the fun,” Jethro
replied.

“Yeah well, playing super secret cloaked
assassin in the pirates midst must have some appeal,” the white liger joked.

Jethro just smiled slightly. The others
snorted in amusement.

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

The last major exercise rotation was an
all up one. Even the Marines were in the exercises. It was a full Fleet joint
exercise. One with Firefly against the rest of the fleet. The Resolution class
light cruiser would act as the aggressor with a  few additions and a small
squadron of phantom ships. The remaining ships of the fleet would take the
roles of the defenders in a  jump point defense scenario. They used the
Beta 101a1 jump point as their backdrop. Dumb AI were left in charge of the
minefields at the other jump points. Commander Logan wasn't comfortable about
the exposure, but knew it was an acceptable risk. If anything happened, at
least his people would be concentrated and better able to respond to an attack
from another jump point.

For the assault Firefly had Sun-Yat,
Centurion, and Hecate and was the aggressor squadron. Maya, Fuentes, Wendigo,
and six simulated ships were the defenders. Since they had several reported
incidents of intelligence gathering by the Horathians, Commander Logan
reluctantly allowed Captain Mayweather to act on her knowledge of their being a
minefield, but not on the details of the defenses.

The exercise began with Firefly's
squadron simulating a jump in.  As their systems stabilized they swore,
the Commander had shifted the minefield through their network feed.

Purple Thorn had already swung into
action, she fired a spread of warshot outward on all six axis. The warshots
detonated in a cloud of sand and aluminum flashing, temporarily blinding the
lidar and other sensors of the mines and orbital weapons platforms. Then they
shifted position to prevent a lock and went to work, going to rapid fire as
they launched their drones and fighters.

The defenders weren't idle, they were
busy firing drones, missiles, and lasers into the soup Firefly had cooked up.

Firefly acquitted herself well,
absorbing a great deal of damage but taking down Fuentes, Maya, and Wendigo.
Sun-Yat and the two newly built escort frigates had been taken out by the
minefields, but their sacrifice had blown a hole in the defenses allowing the
larger Firefly through to gain fighting room. A straight on fight with the
other ships made it clear, they didn't stand a chance against the larger ship.

Firefly's success had dismayed the
planners, even Commander Logan had anticipated that the aggressors would have
lost. They grimly made a note of the strategy employed by Firefly's command
team and scheduled future time to find a better way to counter it.

“There were no gimme exercises, everyone
went full bore, as hard as they could,” Commander Logan said in one meeting.
“Get over it. Yes I would have liked to have had things gone a bit differently,
but now we know. Now we see the problem, and we've got time, thank the spirit
of space, to fix it. So get on it.”

“Aye sir,” Fuentes replied.

“Don't be a kiss ass,” Logan said,
smiling to take the sting out of that statement. “But, in the interest of making
things interesting... and just to oh, let's say, test the planned hardware
let's say, let's just run that sim again. This time with a simulated orbital
fort or two.”

“Sir...”

“And this time Firefly can have oh,
twenty, yes, that's a nice round number. Let's say, twenty smaller ships of
various classes.”

“Sir, isn't that well, stacking the
deck?”

“We shall see right?” The Commander
asked. “It sounds a bit lop sided in their favor, but we shall see.”

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

 Commander Logan's third unplanned
exercise surprised the still celebrating aggressor squadron. Mayweather smiled
wolfishly. “So, they want a rematch so soon? We'll give them another drubbing.”
That got the crews cheering once more.

 They used several ships to
simulate the orbital fort and then did a sim with Firefly and a fleet of
simulated smaller warships. The outcome was a Pyrrhic win for the defenders.
Still, it was a win.

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

The exercises turned to more mundane
things once the last exercise concluded. PT exams, inspections, GI,
engineering, inventory, ship's systems, proficiency testing, ship 90 day tear
downs which were long overdue on some, in other words the whole enchilada as
Logan said. A colonoscopy, Firefly retorted. Logan grinned and agreed. The
colonoscopy term quickly made the rounds, it was widely agreed upon as the more
acceptable term.

Word leaked out that promotion boards
would soon be called after the hoopla concluded, which gave some a bit of a
carrot to go with the stick some of their officers were hitting them with. Of
course Firefly won many of the awards and bragging rights. The primary focus
was on the navy side, ship and crew performance.

The medics fell behind in the scheduled
medical exams. It was inevitable, they always tried to book too many in too
short a time, fifteen minutes was just too short a time for each exam. There
was too much to do with each patient, the exams, getting their medical history,
reviewing their charts, updating them, tests... Thornby and her people were
frazzled and short tempered. Even more so when anyone even remotely hinted
about an 'I told you so.' Of course Doctor Standish and Thornby both pointed
out to their critics that the various exercises and the colonoscopy of the
medics certainly hindered progress as well.

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

One thing that had been avoided for over
two years but was finally coming into its own was dentistry. Marine's who had
complained about being bored before, or tired of the weeks of GI parties,
inspections, hurry up and wait, and testing had been eager to get it all over
and done with suddenly wished they were anywhere but in the hated dentist
chair.

“Why do we have to do this anyway?”
Sergei griped. He was breathing through his mouth, the stink of the antiseptics
was terrible in the confined quarters. Even in the almost claustrophobic
waiting room. If they stayed in this damn place too long his eyes would start
to water and his sinuses would clog shut. He hated medical facilities, they
reminded him of death too much.

Hurranna rolled her eyes to Jethro.
Jethro snorted. “Because we were ordered to do so? That had better be enough
for you,” Jethro said.

“Damn,” Sergei sighed. “Can we at least
get it over with? Sometime this century?” he whined.

“Someone's eager,” The T'clock nurse
said looking up from behind her counter in the waiting room. “Since you are so
eager, you can go first,” she said, indicating the door with a wave of her
antenna and upper right hand.

Sergei muttered something pungent but
headed for the door. A nurse wearing a mask escorted him to a waiting room. She
looked up at him. “My you are a big one!” she said. She looked at the chair. “I
hope you don't break it!”

“You should see my Lieutenant,” Sergei
said, teasing the human female. He looked at the armatures attached to the
chair. There were a few that looked wicked. Downright wicked. The light alone
he didn't like, he didn't like bright lights in his face.

“He's bigger?” she demanded, eyes wide,
voice squeaking.

Sergei chuffed, flicking his ears. “He's
a grizzly.”

“Oh... oh boy. Well, we're doing
enlisted now.”

“I don't see why they can't do this with
nanites,” Sergei grumped. “Can't they?”

She pushed him over to the chair, not an
easy feat since the white liger weighed over 400 kilograms. “No, sorry, some
things have to be done the old fashioned way big fella. Now come on, be a good
boy.”

“I'm not a boy,” Sergei rumbled.

She froze at feeling that rumble then
shook her head. “Cat. I know. Cat. Okay. Be a good kitty and have a seat.”

Sergei sat with a sigh, muttering
something about managing females as he tried to settle. His body was nearly
twice as big as the chair, his legs hung off the end of the chair at his knees
and his shoulders were far over the headrest.

“Oops,” she said, turning to view him.
He untucked his tail and thrashed it to get the feeling out. “Yes, this is a
bit much,” she said, looking him over. “Can you um, scotch down a bit? Until
your shoulders and head are... well, the best you can..” she said.

He frowned and tried. His rear ended up
near the foot rest. He was far from comfortable. His ears flattened. “This is
just an exam?”

“Well, if he finds anything we'll take
care of it. Which is a problem, I don't know why they overbook so often. He's
already two patients behind. Dr. K is a great doctor, just try to be as
comfortable as you can be. First visit?” she asked, picking up a remote. She
used it to turn a wall screen on. She flipped it to some talk show and then
cranked the volume. He growled slightly, annoyed at her choice.

“We can only get a couple of channels
here, sorry. I'll get set up to take your X-rays here in a moment.” She turned
and then stopped. “And don't touch anything. We're keeping a sterile
environment here,” she said and then left.

He felt her go through his implants and
then sighed. He looked at the screen then at the instruments and equipment.
There was a counter with draws on his left. A machine was attached to the
bulkhead on an armature above it. From the look of its tip, it was some sort of
camera. He turned, trying to get his shoulders comfortable. He looked to his
feet, there was the annoying view screen and a picture of flowers in a fake
wood frame. The right bulkhead was blank.

He turned his attention to the chair
itself. It was a light color, most likely green. He had never gotten the full
color vision upgrade, just a partial. He could tell basics, but not fine colors
that humans and some species loved to harp about.

The instruments were racked on either
side on arms. A piece of cloth was on top of one, he wasn't sure why. Some sort
of tape covered the handles for some reason. He wrinkled his nose. A package of
smelling salts was taped to the armature with the light attached.

It took nearly a half hour of his
fidgeting before the girl returned. She apologized profusely and then went to
work. She stuck a black piece of something or other in his mouth with a plastic
pair of pliers, then draped two pairs of heavy coverings over his chest and
stomach. “What's this?” he mumbled.

“Lead shield. X-rays can um, cause
cancer and stuff.”

“Cancer?”

“And sterility,” she said, making sure
he was covered. He frowned. There wasn't much chance of that doing any more
than he already had. He shrugged.

She took images of top and bottom on his
right side, then his left. Then she removed the heavy cloth shields and left.

A few minutes later the doctor came in
with her. “Private Sergei white liger? Anvil cat clan?” the doctor asked,
pulling his mask down.

The cat looked at the Asian human and
nodded. “Yes? Can I go now?”

“Oh no, we're just getting started. I
was wondering, have you kept up with your brushing and flossing?”

“No... um...”

“Doctor K will do. Or just Doctor or
Doc,” the dentist said, smiling as he sat on a stool. “Open,” he said, indicating
the Liger's mouth. The liger frowned and then opened his mouth.

“Oh my,” the dentist said, shaking his
head and then sighing. “I see you haven't. And from the X-ray you have one
abscessed tooth. Maxilla premolar number 109. You also have a cavity, mandible
402. Mandible 409 is gone, there is nothing but the root. Which we will need to
fix as well.”

“This is going to hurt?” The liger asked
stupidly.

“Hopefully not now. Later yes,” the
doctor said. “Well, you will feel a bit of pain when I inject you, just a prick
here and there in your gums. The cleaning will make up for it. I'll schedule
you for a follow up for fillings as well. At least you don't seem to have many
cavities. I take it you don't eat much sugar?”

“No. I eat meat doctor, carnivore,” the
liger replied, flicking his ears.

“Oh, well, that's good,” the dentist
said, laying out a tray of probes, syringes, and other wicked looking devices.
One looked like a pair of wire cutters. “Now, you are my tenth Neo, but my
first Neocat, so bear with me a bit,” the dentist said, taking a probe with a
mirror on the tip and then looking around in the Liger's mouth.

“Just relax your jaw, this will take
some time,” the nurse urged, holding a hose that was making a sucking sound.

Sergei rolled his eyes and tried hard
not to flex his claws to shred the now hated chair.

 ...*...*...*...*...

When he was finished, he wasn't in pain,
but he had memories he'd rather forget. Memories of teeth moving and jerking in
his head,
exquisite
and disconcerting sensations of cracking sounds that
made his fur stand on end. He winced, touching his cheek. He had a mouth full
of wadding to keep the bleeding at bay. He felt it with his tongue gingerly and
then grimaced.

“I still don't see why you don't use
nanites and quick heal,” he complained, or tried to. It sounded like a mumble.

“Nanites are expensive. They are also
harder to come by with the admiral gone. We have to reserve them for
emergencies, not for routine things like this.” He winced, he'd had a hell of a
time with that tooth, the doctor had twisted and pulled a lot. He'd warned the
liger that it was a long one, the roots up in his sinuses. He hadn't been
kidding.

“Besides, it's added incentive to take
better care of your teeth yourself. Right?” the nurse teased.

He nodded emphatically. He had a bag of
toothpaste and a brush in his hand. The brush was tiny, he'd have to find
something better. He vowed he would, he didn't want a repeat performance. The
doctor had gone on about how he could have an implant replacement, he'd
declined. He'd live with the lost tooth, hell if he'd go through that again. He
grimaced when they came near a mirror, then stopped. His once yellowed teeth
were now pearly white. He stared.

“Surprising what a nice cleaning can do
huh?” the nurse asked. He nodded. “It will help with your breath too. You'll
get a cleaning every visit.”

“And um, when do I have to do this
again? No offense but...”

“But you don't want to do it anytime
soon,” the nurse laughed softly. She nodded. “The doctor used the laser to
cauterize the wound. You're nanites should take care of any bacterial
infections.”

“I'm a cat, ma'am, we tend to eat a lot
of raw meat.”

“Which is a problem,” the nurse replied
frowning. “Don't eat with that side of your mouth for at least twenty four
standard hours. And if you get something stuck in your mouth, swish your mouth
back and forth and let the spit dribble out, don't hack and spit. That will
tear open the scabs and you'll bleed again.”

“I see.”

“Some people have trouble with the taste
of blood. Since you are a cat...”

He waved a hand paw and then examined
his claws. He'd ended up clawing the chair anyway. They weren't happy about
that, but he couldn't help it. “I'm used to the taste of blood, just not my
own. I'm a Marine ma'am,” he said.

“Sure, now he's all brave,” Hurranna
teased him, flicking her ears as he came out into the room. He wanted to give
her the finger but restrained himself with the human officer sitting in the
corner.

“Ma'am? I think you are next,” the nurse
said, indicating the lynx.

Hurranna's face fell as Sergei smiled
sweetly. “Oh shit,” she muttered.

“You were saying?” Sergei said, flicking
his ears.

“Oh shut up,” she sighed, getting to her
feet.

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

The various exams include security
checks. Those with classified knowledge or those flagged by NCIS or ONI
underwent background checks and interviews, including polygraph readings. There
were some protests, but when word got around that the protestors were being
flagged as people with something to hide the protests dried up magically.

ONI and NCIS agents flushed out a few
low level people who broke regs including Ensign O'Dell. O'Dell's story poured
out in two hours of questioning. The two lieutenants took his statement and
then left him miserable in the interrogation room as they reported to the
Commander.

“Poor sap. He didn't know he was telling
his sister classified material and that she was passing it on to her boss. Or
so he says,” Agent Sekim said. He was a crusty old bear, he'd started as a
Marine volunteer under Major Forth. He hadn't lasted long past the initial
combat, he'd been diagnosed with epilepsy so he'd transferred to ONI. Since he
had been a cop and detective on Anvil, he'd done well there interviewing the
surviving pirates with his buddy, Ensign Montgomery. But Sekim just couldn't
handle being under someone younger than he was, so he transferred to the newly
forming NCIS when the admiral and his AI started putting it and the Judge
Advocate General's office together.

ONI, NCIS, and JAG didn't get a lot of
love and attention from the rest of the navy. No one wanted them around unless
they were needed. Their agents had been forced to learn largely on their own,
with some initial guidance from the admiral's AI Sprite and Defender. The
Admiral and both AI had given them links to continue their training, but they'd
found that going through the various archives of movies and video programs had
helped to spark interest in their fields. They had honed their interrogation
techniques on the Horathian pirate interviews, learning to read body language
and learn when people were reluctant to say something you were interested in
hearing.

Irene Teague was a new comer to ONI,
she'd joined after the pirate attack. She'd been a student in the newly formed
Anvil College and had taken an interest in the investigations after overhearing
a few of her fellow students discussing it in the lunch room. The normally shy
and mousy woman had volunteered to join ROTC and the off mentioned comment had
steered her career into ONI.