Jethro: First to Fight (3 page)

“Yes, I do want to pin Vargess's ears
back,” Mayweather replied with a shark like smile.

“True,” the tac witch replied, twitching
her antenna. The Captain loved to tease her with that smile, knowing the elf
didn't like a show of teeth. She'd long since learned to put up with it. “Our
implants have kept us up in relative good health, the doctor may disagree,” she
turned to the doctor. Doctor Standish shook his head. “So we shouldn't come in
dead last.”

“I don't want to come in any less than
first,” the Captain replied.

“Ma'am, you do realize some of the ship
companies are small. So if all of them are in extreme form, the chances of us
as a ship's crew coming in ahead of them are remote.”

“Excuses excuses. Get on it,” the
Captain replied.

“Aye aye ma'am,” Shelby replied. “Shall
I schedule you some time in the ship's gym?” she asked smiling slightly.

Mayweather paused her hand, fingers
reaching for a doughnut. Finally she turned, eyes glaring at the XO. “You are
so not funny,” she growled.

“Aye ma'am, whatever you say,” Shelby
replied solemnly, but her eyes brimmed with mischief as the Captain's long
fingers clenched slowly and then retreated. “It's all willpower,” she stage
whispered. The other officers chuckled.

“Right. And just for that you can set
the base line,” the Captain said, giving the XO a look.

Shelby shrugged. “Unlike some ma'am I
kept up my minimum gym time.”

“I see.”

“But, I admit I need to work on my
cardio a bit more. I thought I'd get enough of that in the next tactical
exercise,” she said.

“Right,” the Captain drawled while the
tactical officer rolled her eyes. The Captain loved to take the opposition
force whenever the XO or tactical officer ran a sim. Something about keeping
them on their toes.

One of the things the admiral and
Firefly had drilled into them was to train hard. To train against the best.
There were no gimmes once you became an officer, there was always a twist in a
sim. Tactical officers and commanding officers took a personal pride... not to
mention a healthy dose of the mischievous to pull one over on each other by
coming up with nasty sims. The best were the ones that looked the most straight
forward... and were the most realistic.

“Well, send a memo, PT. Get it
organized. Roust them out, get them ship shape XO,” Mayweather ordered.

“Aye aye Captain,” Shelby replied.

“Who's bright idea was this anyway?”
Janice asked.

“The admiral's,” Firefly responded. That
sobered the group. “He'd planned on instituting it before he left but we were
still getting organized. Commander Logan focused on building and administration
but new orders came in on Destiny.”

“Oh.”

The news that the admiral and Destiny
had survived had surprised those in the know, but the general population hadn't
known about the intel they had that the ship had been sabotaged. When the story
had broke it had taken over both sides of the media. The attorney general had
promised a full investigation, but as of yet no investigators had come to visit
the ship at her berth or to talk to her crew.

After the first week the media under the
control of the governor or his allies had begun to spin it, pointing out that
Irons had turned tail and continued to run instead of returning.

They'd also tried to make as much hay
out of the Marine deaths on Agnosta, pointing to horrible leadership and a lack
of oversight. That was one of the reasons the admiral's new orders were being
implemented quickly.

“So, why again? I mean I get some of it,
but...”

“It's one, a path to promotion, showing
your stuff. And two, it builds morale, good crews pull together. Three, it
shows weaknesses that need to be addressed.”

“I see.”

“Trust me, you do not want to be on a
ship that fails a FARETEP exam. Or screws up in an exercise. Getting razzed is
the least of your problems. For some it can be a career ender.”

“Oh, ouch,” the elf replied.

“So, yes we have to take it seriously.
The good news is, not only do the top 3 ships get bragging rights, they also
get a week's leave.”

“Oh, now that's something of interest to
the crew. Quite an incentive,” Shelby replied.

“Then it's time we get on it,” the
Captain said, getting up. “If anyone needs me I'll be making my rounds and then
I'll hit the gym.”

“Aye Captain. Reputation and all,” the
doctor said nodding.

“Hell, not just that, I bet Vargess I'd
kick his ass,” the Captain replied with a grin. “So don't let me down or I'll
be a real B until the next set of exams. Which is in a year?” she asked.

“Aye Ma'am,” Shelby replied. A year with
the normally stiff dragon lady being a real B?

“Then best get it sorted out number one,”
Mayweather replied as she left.

“If this is her nice.... ohhh... boy,”
the tactical officer said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah. I guess we have our work cut out
for us,” Shelby muttered. “Chief, engineering, go over the write up on what
they will be looking for. Run the bots till they break, everything spic and
span. And get people to clean with toothbrushes. Every nook and crevice. Then
get someone picky to look it over and then go back over it again.”

“Right, nitpick, as if I don't have
enough to do,” the Chief engineer grumbled but nodded.

Shelby snorted and turned to the doctor.
Before she could say something he held up his hands. “I know, I know, get on
the lazy louts. Do mandatory medical exams and roust out our worst offenders.”

“Right. And get sickbay cleaned and do
an inventory. Count all the tongue depressors. Same for stores,” the XO said,
glancing at the ops officer.

“Right, I mean aye ma'am,” the ops
officer replied with a nod.

“Helm, I know you don't have much to do
now since we're in dock but...”

“Run sims, more sims, and more sims. I
know the drill. And lend a hand where needed,” Janice replied.

“We need to bring everyone up on
proficiency. So quiz your people, check them. Any holes find ways to plug them
fast. Sleep teach, spoon feed them, whatever it takes,” Shelby growled.

The group nodded. Shelby turned to the
tac witch. “Get weapons going. Inventory, weapons sims, everything.”

“Can we expend some drones?”

Shelby frowned. “I'll check with the
Captain and get back to you on that. Anyone else?” They shook their heads no.

“Fine then, have a problem, let me know.
Then lets' get started people,” she said, getting up.

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

Firefly shot out a memo asking about the
games and the scoring methods while Shelby shot one out to the crew and department
heads to increase physical training. She sent a second, this one a not so
gentle reminder about the upcoming exams and how fitness played a role in not
only the ship's point standings, but also in individual careers. A few days
later Jethro and the other Marines were amused that the exercise equipment was
now in heavy use. They were even more amused by the sour looks many of the
squids shot their way in passing.

“The more you sweat, the less you
bleed,” Hurranna said, flicking her ears in amusement as she sniffed the air

“Ah shut up,” a squid said, throwing a
sweat soaked towel over the cat's head. Hurranna yowled in disgust.

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

Commander Horatio Logan received the
e-mail concerning the FARETEP testing parameters from Firefly and frowned. It
wasn't that they didn't have a plan, they did. The problem was the scoring, he
had yet to sit down with the command staff and iron out the points. There was
still a fair bit of wrangling over what came into play, and what standards were
more important for each ship to hit. Some things were pretty tough, and there
were a few officers who were concerned that not all would measure up.

He understood it, and he didn't want to
have to bust someone if their ship crapped out. It bothered him a little, he
knew these people. Hell, he'd never signed on to be an officer! He'd learned
the role over time as Chief engineer of Anvil, but still!

He sighed shaking his head. The admiral was
right, he had to let them hang on their own. If a ship screwed up there would
have to be an investigation. If the command staff was at fault they would
either have a chance to correct the mistakes, or, if it was bad enough, they
could face charges. Such a lovely thought.

In a way it would help raise promotions.
The men and women who performed would show it. But there was a big threat of
back biting with so few command posts available right now. And it was all the
fault of Walker, his cronies... and unfortunately the admiral for letting
himself get exiled.

He brooded, staring at the report
without reading it before he turned his thoughts to recruiting. That was
another problem, people were pushing to rise up the ladder faster than their
abilities allowed... and with few billets available. They had thousands of
people in uniform, and thousands more reading and willing to join. The problem
wasn't where to put them, it was what to
do
with them, they just didn't
have the ships.

They did have the space stations,
hundreds of them now. Some of them really didn't need a crew, the sixty odd
storage depots for instance. They were glorified warehouses, and didn't need
more than a caretaker crew right now. If things picked up that might change,
but for now his people had left out any sort of major habitation module on
them. They could be added later as need arouse.

Then there was San Diego. What a debacle
that Bernal Sphere was turning into. The admiral had thought of it, it was a
brilliant piece of engineering. The shell was cool, they had a caretaker crew,
but again, with the admiral out of the system construction had halted before it
could really get off the ground. There were thousands of buildings cut into the
inner surface of the sphere, but with no reactors to power the base they were
all collecting dust. Well most of them, a few were active, but not many.

The admiral and the staff had envisioned
San Diego as both a port, a training base, and a place away from Anvil and the
colonies that the dependents could call home.

After the admiral had gotten things
under control and sent Vulcan out to repair the colonies the colony populations
had let loose, dropping their mandatory population controls in favor of
expansion into the new life support. Free love, he thought with a wry twist of
his lips. Even some of the military personnel had gone along with that,
applying for and usually getting permission to marry and have kids.

Last year the unofficial census the
media had performed reported the system's population had tripled. Tripled, when
up until the admiral's arrival it had been dropping by a few thousand a year as
colonies failed or people left... or died at the hands of the corrupt.

With the system economy in the tank more
and more people were turning to the military. Some thought of it as a free hand
out, a free pass to get an education and pass the time without having to pay
taxes. Some were desperate to provide for their children, he could understand
that. But those who wanted a free ride were abruptly disabused of such notions
when they learned about military discipline and how hard military life was.

They had a few problem cases, people who
just thought it was one big joke. The JAG office hadn't been called in for many
such cases, a Captain's mast was all it took to sort out the flakes, and a few
incidents of hazing had sorted out others. Only the genuine wannabe hard cases
and career fuck ups had been stupid enough to push it beyond that. He'd had to
sign off on only 3 dishonorable discharges this quarter.

They had something like four, no closer
to five percent of the system's active middle class population, somewhere
around 45,534 people in uniform right now, and another ten thousand civilian
contractors serving as support personnel. Many of these people had families,
dependents who weren't in the service and or had children. That made an already
complicated situation worse in some ways since San Diego was still up in the
air.

The Marines were getting out of hand,
they had grown by nearly two hundred percent last year, with another four
thousand waiting for the next boot camp cycle. Which was another headache, he
thought with a pang. Major Forth and his jarheads were like rabbits. Go forth
and multiply was a joke among some of the staff.

John hadn't planned on the focus being
on the Marines. He'd wanted a strong navy with a light but growing Marine
company on each ship... and more on San Diego. Right now they had almost as
many Marines as they did enlisted, it was a problem he hadn't anticipated.

Part of the problem was the way the
Marines recruited. Marine recruiting was all inclusive, if you could walk,
slither, or crawl they'd take you no matter your education. The navy however
was a bit more picky, it had to be. You couldn't have people who knew next to
nothing working on something that could kill a lot of people after all!
Jarheads, he thought, shaking his head. They really did only know which end of
the gun the rounds came out of.