When I finally arrived in the Pompeii system, I'd found George had been taken by slavers, who weren't at all happy when I took him back. The rest of the team turned out to be on the planet's surface and I was forced to evac them from the middle of a civil war. Annette Bronson was the only smart Merc in space who hadn't fired on me, as I'd imitated a tornado through the Pompeii system and the rest of her now destroyed squadron. Knowing the Colonel's team, she had signed on with me. On the way to Dallas to get medical treatment for George, I'd rescued the survivors of a Frigate. A grateful Mercenary, Captain Daniel O'Neil, had given me the badly damaged ship in lieu of a salvage fee, and I'd hired him to fly her again once I fixed her up. While in Dallas, I'd been adjudicated a Passenger Liner after detecting illegal drugs on board and notifying the local authorities.
Several days later, with Colonel Smith's team contracted to me, we had come back to Pompeii, and taken the Orbital station for the Pompeii Freedom Fighters, effectively ending the civil war in their favour.
My payment was ownership of the station.
No sooner in control of the station, than a rogue American sector Captain had jumped his Cruiser in, and tried to capture me for the ex-government, he didn’t know were languishing in my detention cells. I'd been forced to destroy his Bridge and the ship had surrendered to me. It was now docked at the station. Talking of languishing in cells, the prisoners from our takeover, had been removed down to the planet and handed over to the PFF.
All in all, life had taken on the quality of the computer games I'd played with until I'd left Outback. All were based on surviving, thriving, building great fleets and having space battles. While many people looked at me as just a kid, I'd actually lived this life many times over in gameplay. I really did know what I was doing, even if reality was much more daunting than games where you could save and reload if you messed up and died. The only thing the games didn’t give a feel for, was the pain and limp you gained from being subject to physical hurt.
I'd expected to be here on Pompeii Orbital for only a couple of days, but five days later, we still were not ready to leave.
The major complication was the contract stipulation that the station had to be removed from the system.
There are two ways to move a station. You dismantle it, or you attach tugs to it. The first was impractical for me, as I simply didn’t have the resources or the time. The second hadn't been tried in three hundred years.
Bob Derr, owner of Sydney Shipyard and new friend, had sent me a specification for a space tug which could tow a station. In theory. You needed three of them for a station of this size. Not having a construction yard handy, I'd tasked all the repair droids I had, to "repair" three of the existing tugs, using the rest as parts. I was still waiting for them to complete the job. Although I had hopes it would be today.
We had also been running constant shuttles down to the planet, offloading people who didn’t want to leave the Pompeii system. More than I'd thought had decided to stay with the station, wherever it went. Most were business owners who saw that anywhere else would be better than here for their concerns. Pompeii had withdrawn from the American sector a decade ago, when it had changed from its original American name, and taken up a Roman Empire life theme. As such, it didn’t get much in the way of interstellar traffic, and business hadn't been very good for a long time now. The exodus was still in progress, also scheduled to be complete today.
In the meantime, I'd done a trip back to the Dallas system to gather my collection of 'slightly used' ships, some of which were towing others, which I'd left there when I'd taken on the station mission. Wherever I go, I collect the derelicts after a battle, and since Midgard, on the short route home, was a danger zone, I couldn’t send them back to Australian space. Hence I'd parked them somewhere safe until now. With the station belonging to me, they all had a safer place to park.
With me had gone General Kitteridge, leader of the Pompeii Freedom Fighters, to see Admiral Jedburgh, Dallas' Military Commander, and some American sector government officials. The Admiral had confirmed the adjudication of the Cruiser to me. I'd left them to it. The day after I'd arrived back, the Admiral and General had turned up here in a Battle Cruiser. The surviving crew of the Cruiser had boarded the Battle Cruiser, and it had departed. The General had gone back to his planet and the task of building a new civilian government. I didn't envy him that.
Out of all this, the most surprising thing was Colonel Smith's announcement I should forget about joining their team, as it was never going to work. They had been trying to recruit me from the day we first met, and the last attempt had seen me in the spa with most of the team, all of us naked. As a way of shocking your team, it had been very effective. But the bombshell that followed reversed that in an instant.
Instead of me joining them, they were joining me.
Suddenly I had a crew. We were still sorting that out.
Gunbus had been designed to not need a crew.
So here I was, six weeks on from nearly being killed, the first time, and I was lying in bed reminiscing. The last five days had been like a holiday. No-one had tried to kill me. I was finally relaxing. The bruises from my dive off a station level into a tree, were fading, as was the pain in my left side. But I still had a slight limp. The station medical officer couldn’t find any reason why I still limped. The entire medical staff were on the last shuttle run down to the planet, so he wouldn’t be getting to follow up. Probably a good thing, if he couldn’t figure a limp out.
"GOOD MORNING POMPEII STATION!" bellowed Jane through the ship coms.
The ship's Artificial Intelligence (AI), named Jane, controlled not only Gunbus, but Excalibur and all my other ships. She had her own avatar in the form of a droid body using a programmable suit to imitate life. Normally it displayed the look of an early twenties girl, but sometimes she changed it to other things. She was so good at being a girl now, it fooled everyone who didn’t know the truth. She had been a bodyguard and companion during the time I'd flown alone, and at times, I forgot she wasn’t human.
The station AI was named Janet. She was a cloned copy of Jane, minus her memories and avatar. Although sometimes I wondered about that, as the new personality seemed more like my butler droid Jeeves, than Jane.
Jane had a habit of downloading my entertainment library of really old, some thought antique, flat screens, going back six hundred years. I loved the old stuff, and preferred flat screens to modern hollo's. Jane seemed to love throwing bits and pieces of them at me. AI's are not supposed to be eccentric, but Jane certainly was. She was a top of the range AI, of which there were very few, and she controlled much more than any AI was expected to. A few personality quirks was to be expected, I guess.
Jane had thrown the word 'Avatar' at me for describing her persona droid after we watched a flat screen of the same name one night. I'd looked that word up.
'A manifestation of a deity or released soul in bodily form on earth; an incarnate divine teacher.' A six hundred year old definition, never disproved.
Well, who was to know? I came from a spiritual upbringing, and we believed in this sort of thing. That Jane could have a soul was not something I doubted, once the idea was put forward. There was plenty of science fiction to back it up too. Although even more where the arguments were never resolved.
Whatever. I found it easier to accept Jane as a person, thinking she had a soul. Man had never found an alien species in all our wandering along this arm of the galaxy. Why shouldn’t we make our own?
I yawned. This was getting too deep for first thing in the morning.
"RISE AND SHINE SLEEPY HEAD!"
I guess it was time to get up. I realized belatedly that Angel was gone. Sounds of eating came from the kitchen. For such a little puss, she ate with gusto.
I rolled over, and half fell off the bed. How anyone could fall out of a King sized bed was beyond me, but I'd managed it several times already. I shucked my boxers and t-shirt, used the facilities, showered, donned briefs a
nd socks from the underwear dispenser, and came out wearing my 'slinky red' suit uniform.
The suit was actually a special belt. Its original task was to change into a space suit in case of decompression, or as a protective suit in a combat situation where armour was not available. It was programmable to form an imitation of clothes, or anything else you wanted to look like. George had managed a credible Gorilla on his first attempt at something different, and had even duplicated Alison. Jane had perfected it with her girl impersonation. Many Mercenaries and pilots wore these belts, and it was common for them to use them for uniforms. All that was worn was underwear, with the suit over the top. It made sense, when you could never be sure from one minute to the next if you were going to be shot at.
My 'slinky red' was originally copied from the Colonel's team's 'slinky black' uniform. Mine was a dull red colour, with three white stripes down the sleeves. And not quite so figure hugging as the girls wore.
Having become my crew, the team had now adopted 'slinky red' as their uniform as well. However, this wasn’t all the programmed clothes I wore. I had a complete set of Militia uniforms for the Australian sector, in which I held the rank of Commander. I also had another uniform for the Pompeii Freedom Fighters, in which I also held the rank of Commander (retired). On my 'slinky red', I wore the infinity symbol as rank insignia, and for now, it simply meant 'boss'. I was technically outranked by Colonel Smith, but she was now my Executive Officer, or XO. I was also outranked by O'Neil, who was a full Post Captain. But he worked for me now as well. Hence, 'boss' insignia. One day I had to think about creating my own rank system. For now though, it didn’t really matter.
Angel was scratching her kitty castle as I passed through my living room. I stopped to tickle her, before heading down to the common room to join breakfast.
Two
"Morning boss," came from several as I plonked myself down at the table in the common room. I still wasn’t used to this, and it did make me a bit uncomfortable, since everyone else in the room was older than I was.
I mumbled something in return. First thing in the morning wasn’t my best time, and I was still coming to grips with the need for conversation so early.
I looked around the room, while I thought whether to eat something or not. As a rule, I didn’t eat breakfast. Occasionally I did, usually after being up all night, or having recently been in combat.
My Mercenary Guild record was up on one of the flat screens. I took a moment to look at it. After the first couple of weeks, I'd stopped being interested in its constant changing. The Guild was obsessive in its need to keep records up to date, and informing you of every change they made.
Jonathon Hunter.
Owner/Operator of Hunter Security.
Active Rank: Commander, Australian sector Militia.
Other Rank: Commander, Pompeii Freedom Fighters (Retired).
Personal Ship: Gunbus Heavy Transport. Excalibur Heavy Privateer.
Ratings: Pilot. Systems Specialist. Large Ship Captain. Marksman. Sniper. Dropship Pilot. Ship Boarding/Capture.
Awards:
· Australian Meritorious Service Medal.
· Australian Distinguished Service Cross.
· Australian Meritorious Service Cross.
· Pompeii Distinguished Service Order.
Kills: 162.
Personal Combats: 4 won of 4 fought.
Prisoner's Taken: 34.
This didn’t include the survivors of the Cruiser, which was a special case, since it wasn’t technically an enemy, just its captain had been.
Ships Captured: 4.
Mercenary Guild Members Defeated: 9
Mercenary Guild Members Killed: 7.
Bounty Hunter Guild Members Defeated: 4.
Bounty Hunter Guild Members Killed: 5.
Trader Guild Members Defeated: 0.
Trader Guild Members Killed: 0.
The numbers killed and defeated added to be the number of total combats. So I'd so far fought sixteen Guild Mercenaries, and nine Guild Bounty Hunters. I'd had no cause to fight anyone in the Traders Guild. None of these combats had left a blot on either Guild record.
Employs: Smith's Alpha-Team. 266 Squadron. Flight Lieutenant Annette Bronson. Captain Daniel O'Neil.
266 is five pilots who had tried to take me down a few weeks before, after having been tricked into believing I was dark side. I'd been adjudicated their ships by the Mercenary Guild, and had subsequently employed them to fly their own upgraded ships for me. They were in the Nexus 618 system at the moment, doing patrols for the Australian sector Militia.
Base: Hunter's Redoubt, Pompeii system.
That was news to me. I hadn't been aware the station had been named.
Military Fleet:
Gunbus class Heavy Transport. Excalibur class Heavy Privateer. Midway class Escort Carrier. Actor class Cruiser. Dallas class Frigate. Lincoln class Corvette. Five Centurion class Heavy Privateers.
All except the first two and the Centurions, were in varying states of damage. The Corvette was the only one being refitted. The Cruiser was combat capable, but had no Bridge. I'd had its repair droids seal it off along with the other hull breach I'd been forced to create, so it would be space worthy for the journey home. The Frigate was a wreck, only really worth salvaging because the hull still had integrity.
Civilian Fleet: Flower class Passenger Liner.
I'd not known it was Flower class. In fact, I'd not paid any attention to it at all. Flower class Liners were among the best Passenger ships designed. I looked up this one's name. 'Midnight Orchid'.
After came a totaled list of the ships I'd killed and what I’d been flying at the time.
Not mentioned was a long list of civilian ships, mostly damaged, which I'd not yet decided what to do with. Most of these had been on the Carrier when I'd captured it, and others were salvaged after I killed the Bounty Hunters flying them. A few had been adjudicated to me after I'd arrested the crew for outstanding warrants, or turned them in to Customs, who subsequently found illegal drugs on board. Some were in the process of being refitted for trading. Being my own personal ships, they would be leased to one of my companies, which would operate them according to Trading Guild rules. There were also nineteen fighters, which I intended to repair for defensive roles. Other ships were still awaiting adjudication on the Carrier, as their original ownership was traced.
"Umm, what's my record doing up on the wall," I asked generally.
"I was checking it out, boss," said BA. "On my run around the Promenade deck, I overheard several people wondering how a station could be owned by a kid, with varying opinions on the sanity of the PFF leaders for giving it to you. I wanted to memorize your record so if need be, I can quote it without having to look it up." She removed the display.
"Err. Probably better to leave well alone." She nodded, thoughtfully.
I turned to Colonel Smith. I hadn't been able to bring myself to call her Annabelle yet, given she was older than my parents were.
"Where are we at Colonel?" I asked.
"The station tugs were completed an hour ago. Janet has them out testing their capabilities now. The last shuttle should be back aboard by lunch time. Assuming nothing goes wrong, we should be ready to leave by early afternoon."
"Good. I don’t know about you, but I'm ready to get out of here." There were nods from around the table. "Do we know how many people are staying on the station and coming with us?"
"Two thousand and fifty seven," replied the Colonel. "Most of those are business owners and their families. Some are administration and dock workers, hoping to be re-employed by the station."
That was something I'd have to deal with, assuming the station could actually be towed safely through a jump point. Fortunately, I knew someone who could help.
"Do we have enough room to accommodate all those people for the first jump?" Since no one knew if the station would survive the jump, everyone would be on ships for the attempt.
"The Liner will t
ake most of them, with the overflow fitting on the Cruiser. It will mean shoehorning people in, but it shouldn’t be for long."
I decided not to eat breakfast. As I headed up to my office, I said generally, "I'll be wanting to speak to some of you this morning. I'll ping you when I'm ready. Captain?" He looked at me. "You're first, when you finish breakfast." He nodded.
I didn't reach my office. Angel ambushed me in the corridor as I stepped over the cat wall, which stopped her going down into the rest of the ship. So I took her into my living room and played with her until I heard footsteps coming up the stairwell. I just beat O'Neil into my office. We sat at the conference table.
"Would you like to captain the Cruiser for me?" I asked him.
He was obviously surprised. His last command had been a Frigate. I'd previously offered him command of the Lincoln class Corvette, while the Frigate was refitted, which considering her extensive damage, was going to take a while. The Cruiser was an unexpected bonus.
Corvettes were the smallest type of Capital Ship. Frigates were bigger. Next up again was the Destroyer, with Cruiser bigger again. Beyond that were Battleships and Carriers, but there weren't many of them, since there was little need for them.
"It would mean living aboard her alone for a while," I went on. "At least once we get through the jump point. Until then, you will have a lot of civvies as passengers. I'd like you to do the tow of General Custer as well, so I'm free to fight off anything that threatens." General Custer was the Frigate.
"Thank you, I would. Can I use any of my surviving crew?" Ten people had survived the almost destruction of his ship, out of more than seventy. Some had been badly wounded, and were expected to be in hospital for another week or so.
"Are any of them here yet?" He nodded. "Certainly. Get them moved aboard this morning. I'm not ready for formerly recruiting crew yet, but when that time comes, their service will start from today. I'll be sending you some security droids and combat droids, for crowd control, just in case."
Send in the Hero (The Hunter Legacy Book 3) Page 2
