Jethro Goes to War (Wandering Engineer Jethro's tale) (48 page)

Jethro grimaced.
They were the only ones in the area for this. Great. At least his EVA
training was paying off.

The powered combat
armor training had been a mixed blessing in the end. Three weeks of
work but he felt like it had been worth it. He had his cadre suit
now, and the badge to go with it. But it was like having a hammer
when you needed a screw driver. He couldn't use it and for now,
fortunately, there wasn't a need. Still the extra stripe to full
Corporal that came with it was good.

Each of the eight
had gotten an extra rocker for their efforts over the past several
months. That was cool, they were ahead of most of the rest of their
class. F platoon was outshining most of the others platoons in that
regard.

“
We're
breaking up into small teams since we've got a lot of ground to
cover. Corporal Jethro, you've got your trio. Hit the three sites on
your list. We've got little time, a few of these people have no life
support and are living on what canned air is left in their habs,”
Sergeant Brenet grimaced.

“
Stupid fucks.
Some bought the old played out claims as is, and didn't have the
money or skills to upgrade. They went in with little or no room for
error and dick all for a GoTH plan. Go figure. This boom time we're
having is playing merry havoc all over now. Be on the lookout for
people trigger happy, a few are not at all happy about us. A few are
also the shoot first and ask questions later types.”

“
Oh lovely,”
Hurranna sighed.

 ...*...*...*...*...

“
Hello, anyone
home?” Hurranna asked, rapping on the metal door with a wrench.
“We're not a door to door missionary group, honest,” she
joked.

“
Lady you
could be that Admiral Irons guy and I wouldn't care a damn right
now,” the gravelly voice said as the door opened. Gases puffed
out as they escaped the lock. Water vapor crystallized in the vacuum,
drifting like snowflakes. They checked the family over. Their suits
were old but still useable apparently. They were a basic type, a
design from the earliest days of Terran space exploration and still
used over for the past thousand years. Like gunny said, if it ain't
broke don't fix it.

“
I'll take
that in the spirit is was given,” Hurranna said dryly. “As
in, glad to see a face, any face as long as you get me the hell out
of here.”

“
Exactly,”
the miner said nodding in his helmet. “The name's Ben, Ben
Cartwright. This here's my daughter Jeri, and my two grand kids
Mitchell and Bobby.” A suited woman and two children in suits
came out. The kids were in heavily patched modular suits. One looked
like a quilt.

“
That Admiral
isn't around is he?” the woman said nervously, looking around.

“
Nah, I told
ya, long time gone. Long time,” Ben growled.

“
Should have
spaced the bastard. That's what they should have done,” she
growled.

Jethro stiffened.
“He didn't do it ma'am. He's shown proof of that.”

“
He did? I
never heard that,” the miner said looking at them in surprise.
“You puttin' me on sonny?”

“
No sir. We
can show you when we get back to Firefly. If you'll follow us.”

“
You are not
one of those navy guys are you?” one of the kids asked. “You're
a cat.”

“
Glad you
noticed,” Jethro growled, giving the kid a look and then
turning his attention back to the sled.

“
No offense. I
wanted a cat but mom said no,” the kid grimaced. We couldn't
spare the life support or food.

“
Hey you’re
a cat too,” the other kid said, peering at Hurranna's helmet.
“You're big though for a pet. Can I pet you? I mean when we're
out of the suits?”

“
Not in this
life time kid,” Hurranna growled. She tried not to hiss. “We're
Federation Marines. My name is Lance corporal Hurranna of the Anvil
cat clan.”

“
Oh,”
the boy looked at his mother. The mother wrapped her arms around the
kids protectively.

 ...*...*...*...*...

The family looked
around the ship. Hurranna smiled patiently and waved them in the
direction they were supposed to go.

“
So these are
our tax dollars at work huh? Some ship,” the grandfather said
looking around.

“
Actually,
it's Federation tax dollars. From about seven hundred years ago,”
Hurranna replied.

“
Really.
That's not what I heard,” the old man turned on the lynx. He
couldn't help but look down on her since she was so short. Hurranna
tried not to bristle.

“
And what was
that?” Firefly appeared behind him. He spun and then swirled an
arm through the holo.

“
What the hell
are you supposed to be?” he snarled.

“
Firefly.
Commander Firefly,” the avatar answered. He cocked his head.

“
He is the
ship AI sir,” Hurranna said.

“
Oh. Funny.
Talking computer. What'll they think of next,” the old man
turned his head, hacked and spat on the deck. Jethro winced. “So
you're sayin' you're some relic from the past?”

“
I wouldn't
say relic. I was recovered by Fleet Admiral Irons and a salvage crew
to fight the pirates.”

“
Him!”
the old man snarled, fists clenching. “Damn bastard.”

“
Sir, I
believe you're getting the port admiral and Fleet Admiral Irons mixed
up. They are two separate people.”

“
They are?”
the woman, Jeri asked, wide eyed. “Dad, maybe we shouldn't
judge.” She looked around to the marines and placed a warning
hand on her father's arm.

“
Nonsense,”
he growled. “So what, they brothers?”

“
No sir. No
relation. The port admiral was a despicable clone of a despicable
person. Someone we're very glad to be rid of.” The avatar moved
to one side and a holo of an obese man on a hover lift appeared. His
image spun.

“
This is Fleet
Admiral John Henry Irons, hero of the Federation.” Firefly
said, and another holo appeared beside the first two. The Admiral was
standing at attention in a space suit, with the helmet under one arm.
“The Fleet Admiral is from my time. He is a sleeper. His pod
was salvaged by the crew of the Io11 in the Senka system while under
attack by pirates three years ago. They fled the system and made
their way here. He helped restore the ship before deciding to remain
here.”

“
Oh,”
the woman blinked. “So he...”

“
He rebuilt
this ship and others with help, fought off the pirates then was busy
restoring this system to its former glory when he ran afoul of
politics.”

“
Um...”
the girl looked at her father in confusion.

“
He got in the
way of people who wanted to run the system. They saw him as an
obstacle so they ruined his reputation and threatened to kill the
people on the Vesta colony if he didn't leave. Being an honorable
man, he left.”

“
That's not
how I heard it sonny,” the old man said, jutting his chin out.

“
It is none
the less, the truth. You can view the entire recording of the
incident and others at your leisure,” Commander Shelby Logan
said, coming up behind them. “I was there. I am also a friend
of the Admiral. He was... is a good man. An honorable man.” She
shook her head.

The marines had come
to attention when the AI had appeared. They had started to relax but
snapped to when the commander appeared behind them.

“
I'll see that
they get quarters. This way folks,” a harried chief said coming
up behind the commander.

“
Sure, I could
use a rest and a drink,” the old man mumbled, shooting looks at
the AI and the marines.

After they left the
Commander shook herself. “Some people will never learn,”
she muttered looking darkly after the family. “No matter how
many times you clue them in to the truth.”

“
Ma'am, I was
wondering about the tax system set up. There have been all sorts of
rumors running around...” Hurranna asked.

Shelby turned back
and smiled. “Like that we're running out of money, that we're
going to shut down, leave the system?” She shook her head.

“
I caught some
fella passing rumors that we were shaking down ships for money,”
Sergei growled. “Set him straight,” he growled, pounding
one fist into his free hand.

“
Hopefully
without killing him,” the AI said. “To answer your
question, we are supposed to be getting a percentage of the taxes
currently in place. However, that has yet to be implemented
properly.”

“
Oh so... How
do we get paid?” Jethro asked, looking to the others, and then
back to the commanders.

“
I was
wondering the same thing,” Sergei rumbled.

“
Simple. We
pay you,” Shelby said smiling. “We claimed a bunch of
rocks early on. One of the ships will go out, pick up one, break it
up, suck it dry, and then bring the material back for use. What we
can't or don't want to use we sell on the open market for fair value
or we stockpile. Or we make parts with the material and sell them on
the market. That is one way to earn money.”

“
And it is how
we get the energy and materials to make things,” Firefly added.

“
That too,”
the commander nodded. “Recently we've opened some of our
replicators and the dry docks for lease. We will make things for some
of the start-up companies for a fee slightly above cost. That fee
goes toward the payroll and other things.”

“
Ah.”

“
It is similar
to how the Federation services worked back before the war,”
Firefly expanded. “However we do need to get that tax money
sorted out.”

“
Um.. I take
it there is a problem?” Hurranna asked.

“
You could say
that,” Shelby scowled. “Politics as usual. The
politicians are playing games with the money. Holding it hostage.
Don't worry, we'll get it sorted out,” she said grimly. “Even
if I have to go over there and get it the hard way,” she
muttered darkly.

“
Thank you
Commander,” the AI said nodding to the exec. “You three
can return to quarters for a brief rest period or eat. Your next
mission window opens in two hours and twenty minutes.”

“
Yes sir,”
Jethro said nodding and glancing to the others as Shelby walked off.
“Thank you sir.” He saluted. The AI returned the salute
and then faded out.

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

Jethro froze as he
came through the airlock. He looked down the business end of a
needler and then up to the eyes of the unshaven man holding it.
“Problem?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. He
shot an emergency message to the others in the airlock and to
Firefly.

“
Yeah. Fifty
creds,” the man said not wavering. He spat on the deck and then
wiped his mouth with the back of his free hands. “Now. Fifty up
front. Per person per day.”

“
This a
robbery?” Sergei rumbled on the other side of the lock.

“
Looks like
it,” Hurranna chuckled. “Boy is he in for a surprise.”

“
No, this
ain't no robbery. It's a port fee. Call it that,” a woman said
from behind the man. “You tax us, we tax you.”

“
We're not the
IRS ma'am. We're marines.”

“
You sit on
your fat asses drinking booze and sucking our pay from honest folk.”

“
Bill, Jen,
shut up,” the woman behind Jethro said, coming through the
lock. She shouldered past the marine and floated beside him. “These
people just saved our bacon. Something the rest of you didn't do. Or
did you forget that?” She eyed the growing crowd of people.
Some looked away. A few grimaced.

“
Right. So big
deal. Heroes for a day,” the woman spat. “Still ain't
right robbing honest folk like us.”
“Ma'am, I'm not
involved with the tax system. We get paid by mining, just like you
do,” Jethro said patiently.

“
So you get
paid for mining rock is it?” the man with the gun said. “Bull.”

“
No, it’s
true. I checked,” the old man said coming in through the lock.
“Seriously Bill, Jed, Jen, knock it off. These people are nice
folks. Cleaned us up, took us in when we were out of air and power,
and did their best to give an old man and his family a second chance.
They're okay in my book,” he nodded to Jethro. “Even if
they are a might odd looking.”