Hero at Large_Second Edition

by Timothy Ellis

  Alison went into the kitchen, and came back with a glass of something, which burned my throat, and made me choke.

  "What was that?" I croaked.

  "Brandy," she replied.

  "Ah. I don't like it."

  I put the glass down, and went for a bottle of spring water instead. The water did nothing for my throat, so I gulped down a glass of juice, and returned with the water.

  Another obviously military person, this time female, turned up shortly after I'd got a grip on myself. This time from the Mercenaries Guild.

  "We're aware you don't fit the profile for normal membership of the Mercenaries Guild, but we have a rule, where anyone who is sponsored by a long time member of the guild, can be admitted. Colonel Smith is a long time member in good standing, and we are pleased to accept you on that recommendation. There is no requirement for you to work as a mercenary, but membership allows you to be employed by members of our guild. You may receive offers to join a mercenary outfit, or job offers such as escort work. We understand you have some piloting and combat skills, and should you decide to use these skills, there is work available through our guild."

  The rest followed the previous visits, and no sooner had she left, than again I had two emails, and another five million in my account.

  I returned to my chair, and sighed deeply. Amanda looked on in amusement, Alison with interest.

  "Any other guilds for me to join?" I announced to the room generally.

  "Who's for lunch?" asked Alison.

  Seven

  Lunch came out of the cooler as it had the previous day, but three people made a bigger dent on its stocks than one had. We'd no sooner finished, than hotel services turned up at the door. In quick time, the bed was made, the cleaning bots let loose on the bedroom and bathroom, and the dinner table vanished. As one set of hotel staff left, another arrived, and the kitchen was quickly restocked.

  I went back to emails while all this was happening. The junk mail was getting a little more specific by now, in the form of 'did I want investment advice?' and advertisements for things only people with real credits could afford to buy. I wondered how my email address was being obtained, and how people knew I had credits to spend.

  Not long after the hotel staff left, Alison announced 'the Tool man' was on his way. I arched an eyebrow in her direction, and she smiled and said "You'll see."

  By the time she had the door open, an enormous man was already shouldering his way in, followed by an equally large hover-container, and one of the smallest men I'd ever seen. The hover-container was parked in the center of the floor, settling with a very serious CLUNK. I looked around for Amanda, found her glued to the wall by the door again, and watched while the enormous man seemingly glued himself to the wall on the other side of the door. It didn't leave a lot of wall showing. The one seemed to make the other redundant, but given the look of respect I'd seen pass from the man to Amanda, I was not too sure which was the greater threat. And I wasn't too sure I wanted to find out. Alison was back at the desk, leaving me 'alone' with the small man.

  "Jones," he introduced himself as. "I understand you need 'kitting out'?"

  He didn't wait for an answer, but immediately pulled out a black belt which he passed to me.

  "Put this on."

  I did as I was told. It was too big, and sagged down my front, threatening to slide off completely. Before I could say anything, a pop-up requested access to install an operating system. I cast an eye toward Amanda, and she nodded at me. I authorized the download and install. Immediately after, the belt tightened comfortably around my waist. A new menu went active, and Mr. Jones talked me through the settings. We went through the standard structures supported by the 'belt'.

  The first was a complete skin-tight covering from head to foot, and I had to raise each foot so it could seal underneath. Seeing was only possible via the PC. Breathing was only possible for a short time using life support stored within the composition of the suit, designed to keep you alive in an emergency, long enough to reach an alternative air supply in quick reach. Mr. Jones pointed out this was an emergency coverage to protect in the event of explosive decompression. After a few moments, an air hose extended from the back looking for an air supply point. Before it could find one, I shut it down, and it went back to being a belt. No point in finding out what happened if I ran out of air. I hoped I never would.

  Amanda pulsed me over an add-on, I loaded it, selected it, and suddenly I was wearing the exact same slinky black outfit she was. I looked down, and yes it had adapted to me being male and not female. I grinned at her. She grinned back.

  Next was a more conventional space suit arrangement, with a full clear bubble around the head. In addition to the suit's life support, it also supplied a small air supply, lengthening the time it could go without being plugged into an alternative source, and it did not obscure the vision in any direction. Not keeping it on for long, I set it back to being a belt.

  Under a sub menu, was a series of conventional clothes it could emulate. In the female list, I found the yellow dress Amanda had worn the previous evening. In the male menu, I found a grey business suit, selected a red shirt and emerald green bow tie, and activated it. Instantly I was wearing the suit. A wolf whistle came from Amanda's side of the room. I took it as a sign it looked good on me. Back to a belt.

  After the suit, my jeans and t-shirt looked very inadequate. I looked towards Mr. Jones.

  "What's next?"

  He pulled out a gun holster, and strapped it onto my right thigh. Then a second one which went on my left thigh. As I watched, he pulled out six different hand guns, and laid them out for inspection. Up against the far wall, he attached a target.

  "Each is a different make of laser class pistol. Each is selected because it has swappable modules so they can be turned from a stunner into a full laser, or a dual function stunner-laser. This is important because most stations will not allow a full laser of any kind to be carried, but if you are boarded in space, or you find yourself in combat dirt-side, or on some other ship or renegade station, a stunner will not be enough. Module change can be done in seconds, as can recharges. Let me see you pick up each gun, and use it."

  As bidden, I picked up the first gun. Immediately a program went primary I hadn't seen before. It startled me for a second, before I recognized I now had a target sight from the PC, showing exactly what the gun was pointed at. I looked at Amanda.

  "The General," she said.

  I nodded. Obviously one of the military programs the General had given me, but I'd not yet gotten around to looking at. I felt the weight of the gun in my hand, held it up to eye level, and sighted along it. It felt good. I aimed it at the target, and pulled the trigger a few times. White spots lit up around the edges of the target to show where the shots had gone.

  I replaced it, and did the same with each in turn. Each time I let go of a gun, the targeting program turned off. As soon as I touched the next gun, targeting came on again. Each gun felt different, but they all felt good to hold and shoot. However, I'd not had any shots hit the actual target yet.

  Mr. Jones watched me closely. He sighed, obviously not happy.

  "No," he said, "they won't do, not you."

  He put them away, and pulled out something larger. He handed it to me, and watched me as I brought it up to eye line. It was slightly heavier, but perfectly balanced in my hand. Unlike the previous guns, instead of one exit aperture, it had six.

  I looked at him with raised eyebrows. He pulsed me an upgrade routine. The targeting changed slightly, became brighter, and somehow more intense. I slipped it into the right holster, drew it, and traversed around the room. Targeting smoothly found all four people in the room, and as I thought it, the gun settled on the large man by the door. He flinched. My finger twitched, and the gun fired blanks. There was a series of rapid discharges before I could get my finger to ease up. I shifted to aim at the target, and fired again. Hits lit up across it, including the central area. The gun felt
completely perfect.

  "Yes," said Mr. Jones, "This one fits who you are. This is a Gatling laser. You can set it for single fire, and it will be as accurate as any other gun, or in other words, as accurate as the person who fires it, but its main operation is as a quick fire laser. Each bolt is not quite the power of a normal gun, but it delivers several to the same place while any other gun is preparing to fire again. Not a lot of people are suited to this, but I can see you're one of them. Let me see what you can do from the left side."

  I swapped the gun over to the left holster, and repeated the exercise. A bit slower this time, but the same results.

  "Good," he said. "You wear two of these, and only the truly stupid will take you on without hesitating. Even with only one, and some more appropriate attire, you will look like someone not to be messed with. This is good I think. Keep you alive longer, especially when your pretty friends are not around you. You will want the suit, two of the Gatling lasers, and both holsters I would be thinking?"

  He looked at me for confirmation. I nodded. He asked for the belt and holsters back, I removed them, and handed them over.

  "I will send them along in several hours, with the permits for carrying. Invoice with delivery, payment then, yes?"

  "Yes," I said, and meant it.

  The big man returned to the hover-container, packed away everything, and the two of them left. Amanda came over from the door. Alison from the desk.

  "Good choice I thought," said Amanda. "Not my style, but he was right, that style of gun does suit you."

  "Why?" I asked.

  She laughed.

  "I can't tell you that, but it is definitely the right choice."

  Alison chimed in.

  "I agree. You have some time now before anything else is scheduled. Why don't you start looking at clothes catalogues?"

  I threw my PC to the coms unit again, and brought up search mode on the flat screen with holographic hand controls. I limited the search to male clothing, on station. I definitely wanted new jeans, so started with them. My current jeans were standard jeans, lightened up in colour by long use. I wanted true blue denim jeans again. And there they were. There was even the stretch variety I preferred. I tagged them.

  Next I went looking for shirts. I found a series of short sleeve t-shirts with collars, and tagged the colours I liked. These were what I mainly wore when I was not out and about. But I needed clothes portraying a higher image, that of a successful pilot and captain. I went for red casual long sleeve shirts, collared but not designed for neckties. On a whim, I also tagged the emerald green.

  I needed new sleep ware as well, so I went looking for boxers, which were easy to find, and non-collared t-shirts, where I found some nice pale green ones, all of which I tagged.

  Shoes next. I prefer low heel Velcro strap shoes, but have always found them difficult to find. Eventually I located a pair in my size in a pale green and white combination, and tagged them. Underwear and socks I didn't need to worry about, as the auto dispensers did adequate underwear, and I'd never felt the need for anything else.

  What was I missing? Oh yes, jackets. I'd been wearing a battered old denim jacket for years now, and it was not up to standard, now I was something more than a student. I wasn't sure exactly what more I was as yet, but having a lot of credits definitely made me more than I had been. It took a while, but finally I found the perfect jacket I'd always wanted, zip up the front, minor collar, and in just the right burnt red colour. It had optional epaulettes, which I would need if I was to present myself as a pilot or captain, since anyone with space skills wore appropriate badges for their skill level. I had the qualifications for able spacer in all four disciplines, and I'd been credited with being captain of the Wanderer, and pilot of the fighter they'd awarded me. So at the least, I'd wear pilot and captain badges. I'd need to follow those up some time soon.

  I assembled the tagged list, and sent it off to the tailor. It was quickly receipted with a tentative delivery of tomorrow afternoon.

  I'd been ignoring emails again, so I spent some time on them. I had several inquiries from traders wondering if I was going to offer escort services, and I replied that at this point, I was unsure, but I would let them know if I did. I moved those in to my future action file.

  It prompted me to go onto the Trader Guild's site, and look around. I started with my profile, and found my skills already listed, as was my Captaincy of Wanderer, and Pilot of a Gladiator Heavy Privateer. I tagged myself as 'not looking for work', to forestall any further inquiries for the time being. I browsed through the software list, and found an interface overlay for ship's systems allowing for any ship to be searched for in the Trader Guild database for status and bounty, if any. I noted my own status was listed as being in good standing.

  I did the same on the Bounty Hunters Guild, and Mercenary Guild sites, tagging myself as not looking for work, and downloading their status and bounty overlays.

  On the Bounty Hunter's site, I also found I was tagged as having a number of bounties out for my destruction. I was not required alive, just dead.

  I found an overlay which would pop up a warning if I encountered a ship which had accepted a mission under one of the bounties on me. Got to hand it to the BH Guild, they played things both ways. Perfectly happy to have bounties registered against members, but made sure members knew about it, and had some warning if someone wanted to collect.

  However, it put a damper on being a pilot and captain, as going back out into space looked decidedly unfriendly. I went back into the profile, and added a comment to say I had no intention of firing on any BH Guild member unless fired on first, but I would consider anyone who attempted to collect on the bounties to be as much a pirate as the pirates who had placed the bounties. With a bit of luck, it would give some people pause. I went back into their software looking for an overlay tagging a ship where the known pilot was a guild member. I did the same for the other guilds in case one day it mattered to know a ship was a member of a guild.

  Lastly, I went into the Traders Guild product sales site, and ordered several pairs of both Pilot and small ship Captain badges.

  "Why the long face?" asked Aleesha.

  I jumped. She stood next to me, chuckling. I hadn't noticed she and Amanda had changed over. I looked around. Alison wasn't in sight either. I looked up at her.

  "Half a million in bounties on your head tends to do that to you," I replied.

  "Is that all?" she said. "They can't be taking you seriously yet."

  "If that's not taking me seriously, I'd hate to see what is."

  "Unfortunately, if you live long enough, you will. We'll do anything we can to help you through this, but I hate to say I don't think you've yet grasped just how big a bulls-eye is painted on your arse. That's why we want to get you tooled up and prepared, for when we can't be with you. Sooner or later we'll get a job, and need to head on out. Of course, it won't happen until our ship is repaired, so it won't be happening tomorrow."

  "I appreciate it you know. In fact, I'm not really sure why you're going to all this trouble."

  "You kidding? You saved us. If you hadn't had the balls to take that shot, we would have been out of air long before they hauled our ship in anywhere. We were gone. We were all down to less than fifteen minutes suit air when we docked here, and we'd used every source of air on the ship the damage had left us. We lost our pilot, and the damage to the ship left us stranded, and at that pirate's mercy. He had none to offer. We were gone!"

  I looked at her.

  "But I was only saving myself."

  She reached down, grabbed me by the shirt, and hauled me out of my seat.

  "Listen you! We know that. We also know your PC was fritzed, you had major head trauma, you passed out twice, and you still managed to kill that bastard, and tow us all to safety. That makes you special. Because most other people would have laid down, and just died where they were. You saved yourself, and you saved us, when you could have equally been selfish, and just seen
yourself to safety. We OWE you big time!"

  And with that she kissed me full on the mouth for so long, when she pulled away, I flopped back onto the chair gasping for air. She flounced off. With what she was wearing, flouncing didn't really work, but she carried it off anyway. I struggled to bring my breathing back under control.

  Eight

  Alison turned up again later in the afternoon while I was having a nap. She poked her head into the bedroom, saw I was awake, and crooked a finger indicating I should follow her.

  I rolled off the bed. In the sitting room, sat a parcel. On the outside was an invoice which for a moment startled me, until I remembered I had credit to spend. I opened the parcel. On the top was a box containing a suit belt. The invoice listed it at fifty thousand credits. I opened the box, and put on the belt. It immediately tightened around my waist comfortably, and I received a pop up asking to update my software, which I authorized.

  I hunted down the menus looking for something to test the suit on, and accidentally hit the wrong option. I immediately stood there wearing a yellow dress over my clothes. Two women had immediate hysterics. I blushed, cancelled the option, and it returned to a belt.

  I turned back to the parcel, and removed the two gun boxes. I didn't see any holsters though. The invoice listed one gun at thirty thousand credits. There were definitely two guns. I pulled one of them out. Immediately, a holster appeared on my right thigh. I slotted the gun into the holster, and it fit perfectly. A pop up notified me the gun was set up in stunner mode. I pulled out the second gun, and another holster appeared on my left thigh. I put the gun into it. Same pop up. Next I pulled out a pack of six charge packs. Immediately each holster sported three slots for the charge packs and I fitted each of them in a slot. A pop up informed me charging was in progress.

  Lastly, there were two small bolts, each in its own pouch. The pop up for those told me they were to change the gun from stunner to stun-laser, and full laser, with a diagram showing how. Seemed easy enough. What was odd was there was no feeling of wearing any weight at all. I'd expected to feel the weight of the guns dragging down on the belt, but I didn't feel a thing. On a whim, I accessed suit control, and selected the slinky black outfit the twins wore.