"We'll probably all be interested in buying them," said Price. "Keep us in the loop for anything else you develop as well. I assume that’s why you appropriated the Midgard shipyard? So you can develop and build your own ships?"
Most of them looked surprised at this, but Bentley was laughing.
"You didn’t know?" she asked generally.
All except Price shook their heads.
"I knew he had another station on the way," said Harriman. "But not a shipyard."
"We jump into Midgard in the middle of the night, take out their fleet, and he leaves me holding the bag while he goes off to chase some intermittent scanner contact. By morning, he arrives back at the jump point with a giant shipyard in tow, and claims it was abandoned, and he couldn’t leave it there as a navigation hazard."
They all joined in laughing.
"When General Wellington arrives a little later," she went on, "he claims it was sitting there all on its lonesome, and followed him home like a kitten."
The laughing intensified. I waited for them to get a grip.
"What's this about another station?" asked Hallington.
"The Midgard official he talked to," answered Bentley, "was so terrified of him, he literally kicked the location of Midgard's Orbital station out of the person who knew. On the way there, he finds a Mining station, which was moved back to Midgard to be a base for General Wellington. When the Orbital station was found, his AI took over the station computer, and tricked most of the people into evacuating. He sent his Marines in to take out the rest. Then he had it towed to the Azgard jump point as well."
They all looked at me.
"Spoils of war," I said.
Jedburgh snorted, and Harrington looked worried.
"What?" I said. "You all keep putting uniforms and rank on me, but I started out as a Privateer. I built the ships you like by salvaging everything I could after each battle. The station and the shipyard are simply bigger hulls. Maybe it's not what career military do, but I never considered myself to be career military. I see myself as a temporarily seconded Mercenary Privateer. Once I can shuck these uniforms for good, I'm the head of Hunter Security, and Hunter Trading, and salvage is part of my business."
"Besides," interjected Annabelle, "If what we think is coming is, he needs a decent base and support facilities."
"Fair enough, I think," said Patton. "I wouldn’t tolerate anyone in the ranks doing any such thing, but this whole situation requires its own rules."
"Agreed," said Price and Harriman together.
"So what do we do in the meantime, while we wait for you to be able to go home?" asked Bigglesworth.
I chucked.
"First, you decide if you take me seriously or not."
They all looked at me seriously enough.
"Well, you all have a piece of the military puzzle for this end of the spine. It's up to you to do something about it. This is the first step. Let me know how you get on, and I'll try to fit in with you if I can."
The Marshall and the three four star Generals looked at each other, and then nodded to each other.
"I'm afraid you don’t get off so lightly," said Bigglesworth with a grin. "You're task in all this is to gather together the best of the Mercenary forces under your command. You get to go home now, but none of us have any doubt that a suddenly created Mercenary fleet is anything other than a call to create an independent force the sectors can call on in times of need. So take time for a rest, heal yourself, and then get to work. Admiral!"
I nodded to them, but wasn’t game to say anything. What he said did make sense. Annabelle was grinning at me.
"Is there anything else you would like to add Admiral?" asked Patton.
"Yes, I need a butler to bring me a pain shot."
For some reason they all found this incredibly funny.
Twenty Three
After my pain shot, things settled down to a more general professional discussion. Rank vanished, and all sorts of subjects of interest were visited.
At one point, Price turned to me.
"I've been wanting to ask you, what did you do to Admiral Dingle?"
There were chuckles around the room, but everyone looked at me for an answer.
"Nothing I know about. Why do you ask?"
"Dingle was one of our most promising officers coming up through the ranks. He was a very effective Cruiser driver when he made Captain, so we fast tracked him. But when he received his star, he completely changed. Competence vanished, and was replaced with arrogance and self-importance. We couldn’t un-give him Warspite once he was appointed, because he never actually fouled up. But that ship wasn’t half as effective at anything, once he had command. Granted she was old and out of date, but she was still the flagship of our fleet, and he was only one of two one stripe Admirals we had serving."
"Sounds like he rose to the level of his incompetence," I suggested.
"You'd think so, except for his performance under you has been back up to the standard for which we promoted him in the first place. I wondered what you did to get it out of him, where the rest of us failed."
I paused, thinking.
"My first contact with him was in the middle of the night, when I told him if he left his ship where it was, it would be in small pieces before the day was out." They found this quite funny. "I had to show him a vid of the station jumping before he accepted it was possible, and Warspite just about ran me down moving." The laughter intensified. "I gather Vonda took a piece out of him not long after, but I never did find out what she said."
"That still doesn’t explain the change in him," said Patton.
"Vonda wanted to replace him, but I convinced her he was better off where he was. We didn’t know Repulse was coming at the time, so we had two objectives. We needed a target the enemy had to take out first in order to focus them where we wanted them, as well as a station for them to take as a forward base. I convinced Vonda that Dingle was the right person for the job of sacrificial lamb, someone who would die gloriously, unaware of what he really was."
"You weren’t really thinking of sacrificing a Battleship were you?" asked Jedburgh.
"Not as such. But at the time, I couldn't see any way in which Warspite could survive. As it was, she almost didn’t, and we provided Midgard with two main targets instead of one. We simply didn’t have the Point Defense to save her, with her being the only main target. As it happened, we ended up with much more Point Defense than we'd first thought, but right then, Warspite had to be the focal point of our defense, and her survival wasn’t likely."
The others nodded.
"As far as Dingle is concerned, it could have been a number of things which shocked him back to competence."
"List them," said Price.
"First off, we simply ordered him to prepare to defend the jump point against the expected fleet, told him what they would fire at him, and gave him a time of three seconds to train for, to fire on the first down jump. As far as he knew he was going to be facing the full fleet alone."
"Hell," said Harriman. "That would have given some flag officers a heart attack."
"The battle itself could have been the turning point for him. He wasn’t a happy Admiral after, having his ship almost destroyed around him. He wasn’t impressed when I asked him if he needed a tow." They all laughed. I turned to Price. "I guess the next thing was, having just about lost his ship in action, you didn't relieve him of command. Instead, his ancient, out of date ship, received what he'd probably been pushing for since taking command, and came out of the yards a completely new force to be reckoned with."
"You're right," said Price, "he was a constant pest with requests for Warspite to be upgraded. But he never presented them with arguments that made any sense. We always assumed it was his self-importance driving him."
"So suddenly," I said, "his ship is given a new lease on life. On the jump into Azgard, Warspite was the vanguard, even though we all jumped together. His new missile system was very effective, an
d even though the tactics were new, he was fighting a kick-arse ship now."
The nods all round showed they agreed with my assessment.
"It's hard to know when the change happened, or why, but that’s what I think led to it."
"Could have been having a very competent commander to emulate as well," said Chet.
"Vonda certainly was an effective leader," I replied.
They all smiled.
"I wasn’t meaning General Wellington," said Chet.
I looked at him, not understanding what he was saying. Smiles became laughs.
"Jon," said Price, "I probably shouldn't really say this, but Vonda told me, had she been in operational command, Avon would have been taken. She's a very capable General, which is why I sent her, but the situation needed an Admiral, and we didn’t have one with the experience, or the stones, to get the job done. Had she managed to defend Avon, she was adamant the entire attack force would have died jumping into Azgard. I wasn’t asked to promote you to Vice Admiral, I was told it was essential she be relieved of the command, because she wasn’t up to the job, and you were. I couldn't relieve her then, but as the same rank, she could defer to you without any problems for the lower ranks, especially since managing ships is an Admiral's job, and managing troops is a General's job. You probably weren't aware of it, but from Cobol on, she effectively delegated the war to you, and was trying to stay un-noticed in case junior officers wondered why the senior officer wasn’t the one giving all the orders."
I looked at him for a long moment.
"She'll make a good Governor," I said.
"She will, and she knows that."
We were interrupted by butler droids bringing in lunch platters. I was relieved the conversation had been stopped at that point.
The group broke up after lunch, so we could all prepare for the party in the afternoon. I trailed Annabelle back to BigMother, in chameleon mode. The Americans had headed for Guam, docked on the opposite side of the station.
Angel was happy to spend some time playing with me, especially as I wasn’t sure when I'd be back next. I made a point of explaining it to her, and suggesting it was a good time for her to have some quality sleep.
Precisely at one thirty, a shuttle touched down on the Flight Deck, and was taken below, where we were waiting for it. Both Jane and Jeeves boarded with us, the latter with a supply of pain shots for me, so I wouldn’t have to seek them out. Jane had done some work on Jeeves, changing his appearance to the Hunter Dress Uniform, without insignia. His orders were to see to my needs exclusively.
We were transported down to the planet, landing on the Palace roof. A grand staircase wound down the middle of the building, emerging into a huge vestibule area, with many rooms leading off it. We were directed to the main ballroom.
Although not yet two o'clock, we were announced, in order of rank. There was a receiving line of mainly politicians, whose names I promptly forgot, with Marshall Bigglesworth on the end. After shaking my hand, he waved a butler droid forward, and instructed it to take my party to our designated location. On the way in, I’d not seen this being done with anyone else. I was about to ask him, but he very slightly shook his head, so I nodded and followed the butler.
It led us over to the only clump of lounge chairs in the room. I lowered myself into the central chair, and a medical pouffe was placed under my leg. Jeeves dropped a ginger ale on the table beside me. Alison took the chair next to me on one side, and Amanda the other side. Jane stood behind me, as if to protect my back from any threat.
I told the rest of the group to go mingle, and after some reluctance, they did. Jeeves gave me a pain shot soon after. With the edge removed, I let myself sink into the comfortable chair.
People began to seek me out, and the chair opposite me was kept occupied. I tried to keep conversations general, and avoid saying anything which someone might later use against me. While I had no experience of this kind of event, I'd read enough as a kid, to know the politics going on behind the scenes was likely more important than the event itself. Politics of any kind was something I was very keen to avoid.
Sometime around three, I had a break in the conversation flow, which gave me a chance to look around the whole room. A movement above drew my attention, and I saw a pretty girl standing on the next level up, watching things unfold below her. She appeared to be about my age.
Our eyes met. She smiled at me, and suddenly turned and fled.
I wondered what had spooked her.
I looked around, and found both Amanda and Alison with big grins on their faces. Neither would say anything though.
The afternoon wore on, the conversations became repetitive, and I felt an intense need for some sleep.
The party wound down at five, and I was shown to a large suite where I could rest before dinner. I wasn’t sure how many rooms there were in this suite, but the girls all followed me in, and vanished. I eased myself down on the bed, moved the scooter over next to me, and promptly went to sleep.
Twenty Four
I awoke at seven thirty, to a combination of pain and Jeeves calling my name. I lay there for a moment, bothered by more unremembered dreams of purple smoke, until I suddenly realized I was now late for dinner.
Jeeves gave me another pain shot, and I pulled myself off the bed using the scooter. I needed the bathroom badly. By the time I felt refreshed, I'd lost another fifteen minutes, and set out after Jeeves to wherever dinner was being held.
I was the last one there, predictably. But instead of being told off for being tardy, I was greeted with booming applause.
I looked around the large Dining Room, seeing an oblong space, with a long table down the middle. There were only two empty seats, one at each end.
A palace functionary indicated the seat at the end closest to me. I eased myself into position ready to sit, but before I could do so, another functionary at the other end of the room said, "All stand for Her Majesty."
I remained where I was, still on my scooter, while the rest of the table all rose.
The young girl I’d seen during the afternoon entered, took her place at the other end of the table, nodded down the table, and sat.
"You may be seated," said the functionary.
I eased myself into my chair, and the functionary nearest me deftly moved me under the table without banging my leg, while a second positioned a pouffe for it. The table itself was wide enough that no-one was near enough to bang my leg. Once again it made me a bit isolated, but it was better than having people kicking my leg accidently. Jane took the scooter from the room.
Nearest to me were the Generals and Admirals. At the other end were senior British and London government officials. In the middle was everyone of consequence who fought the war.
While a good distance away from me, my main sightline was the Queen. As the courses came and went, I concentrated very hard on not looking at her.
Conversation went on across me, but I let it go without my input. I'd had enough sleep to keep me going, but not enough to feel rested.
And truth to tell, I didn’t really want to be here. I'd have preferred to be back in my bedroom, on my way home, doing releases for all the dead I didn’t pull the trigger for, but gave the orders which killed them. Their weight seemed overbearing. I'd missed the celebration on Dallas, and was now wishing I was missing this one as well.
It seemed almost obscene to be celebrating at all. How many ships had I killed? How many people? It wasn’t any wonder I'd been dead for fifteen minutes. I deserved it. A spiritual person killing in the magnitude I'd done? I wasn’t sure why I'd woken up.
Or maybe that was the point. Living was my penance now.
Still not hungry, I’d pecked my way through the first few courses, and was now moving my dessert around my plate.
"Are you okay Jon?" asked Walter.
I looked up from my plate, which I hadn't really been seeing, and looked at him.
"Sorry, what?"
"Are you okay Jon. You don’t
look like you're all here."
It felt like most of this end of the table were looking at me.
"I guess I'm not. It's sinking in how many people I'm responsible for killing, and finding something in my belief system which allows it, has proved to not be a happening thing." I sighed. "I'd just as soon be in my bedroom and heading home, than anywhere trying to celebrate."
"You're missing the whole point Jon," said Darius. I looked at him. "We celebrate survival, not what it took to survive. We give credit where it's due, for those who made that survival possible. We celebrate life and its continuation."
"Well said," added Walter. "Jon, take some time when you return to Nexus. Go and find a beach somewhere, and sit on it for a week or two. You've had a rough two months, and done the impossible at the same time. You're exhausted as well as physically damaged. The last thing you should be doing at the moment is think."
"Not much else I can do."
"Not so," said Patton. "You're mobile. Try a combat range on your scooter. Hell, I might find one and come try it with you!"
My end of the table all laughed, and I joined in reluctantly. He had a point. I could try the assault courses on my scooter. It would keep me busy, and perhaps give me a new skill set.
I made an effort to finish my dessert.
The others around me made more of an effort to keep me in the conversation now, so the mood I’d been falling into wasn’t allowed to progress any further. All the same, I didn’t recall anything which was said.
As everyone was enjoying their coffee, and talking about how good it was, I sat back and looked around the table. My eyes went up one side, and came to rest on the Queen, who I suddenly realized, I knew nothing about, not even her name. In fact, I hadn't been aware British sector had a Queen. Something must have happened recently. I thought I should've been asking someone. But then, did it really matter? I was here for another couple of days, wasn’t getting involved in anything local, and probably would never be back. I had enough to worry about besides the British monarchy.
Hail the Hero (The Hunter Legacy Book 5) Page 14
