Hero at Large (The Hunter Legacy Book 1)

by Timothy Ellis

  Remove the weapons.

  What sort are they?

  301 blades, 15 points.

  “Have you had an injury where I have my hand?” I asked her.

  “Why yes. I got hit by a stray laser shot, back before the suits became available.”

  “I thought so. You have a lot of etheric damage here. Do you understand that?”

  “I think so. You mean we are more than just a body, we exist at higher levels as well? And you’re saying I was damaged at other levels than just the body?”

  “Yes. Do you believe in reincarnation?”

  “When you die you get born again in another body?”

  “Yes. Any damage that you suffer can be taken into the next lives, and keep being brought forward for as long as it isn’t healed. You have a weak spot there. You have previous damage from three hundred and one blades and fifteen pointed weapons, mainly swords and spears I think, which shows they go back a long time. Would you like me to remove them?”

  “You can do that?”

  “I think so. If I wasn’t supposed to, I doubt I’d know about them. Let me try.”

  I thought-addressed the one I ‘spoke’ with and asked for the weapons to be removed, and the wounds healed.

  Done.

  “How does that feel?”

  “That’s incredible. I’ve always had some pain there that nothing would get rid of, and now it’s gone.”

  I took my hand off her stomach and she quickly sat up, pulled me forward and kissed me. She jumped off the bed, threw the towel towards the bathroom, the pillow back up the top of the bed, pulled the covers back and climbed in. She looked pointedly at my groin.

  “Are you using an override on that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well turn it off and get in here!”

  I did as she said.

  Fourteen

  I awoke the following morning feeling very content and peaceful. Alison was on one side of me, Amanda on the other.

  I lay there for a bit wondering if I had died and gone to heaven.

  I hoped though that heaven would not be as painful as it was here. My bruises still ached. I sighed quietly. I sat up and crawled down the middle of the bed on to the floor, padded into the bathroom and proceeded to give those bruises some hot treatment. After toweling off and putting on briefs and socks from the dispenser, I started out just as Amanda came in. As usual straight from bed, she was wearing only her belt, and I quickly turned back on what I’d turned off last night. We smiled at each other as we passed. Alison seemed to be still asleep. After dressing, I hung my night clothes up in the refresh part of the robe and headed out. Aleesha was in the sitting room, she bolted upright as I entered.

  “You had a good night?” she enquired.

  “Apparently so,” I responded with a smirk.

  I sat down in an easy chair with my pad, and went through accumulated emails. I never did seem to keep up to date with them. There were several job offers to do escort work, which I politely declined for now. The sector and guild bounties seemed to have come in for yesterdays ‘work’. I noted them without paying any attention to how much. For the moment, credits were not a concern. The adjudication of the four ships had been made in my favour as well. Amanda appeared, and Aleesha disappeared.

  “Breakfast?”

  “I’m not hungry, you help yourself,” I responded. She did. I rarely did breakfast. For some reason I functioned better without it in the mornings. At times, even the thought of food after I got up was enough to make me feel queasy.

  I brought up a simulation of a ship view field with a HUD overlay, randomly generated from current guild information. I zoomed it in and out a few times, looking at what was showing and how it was showing. Most of the ships were bracketed in blue, showing friendly status. A group of three were showing as red, meaning enemies. There was a set of grey dots which were missiles. It wasn’t really adequate. I checked each of the ships against the guild information and found two were bounty hunters, five were sector militia and the rest were traders. At least the ship icons showed what kind of ship each was, but knowing who they were could be critical. I took the opportunity to load the ship identification icons into my PC, so if I came across an icon I didn’t know, the PC would fill it in automatically. I looked further. One of the bounty hunters had a mission current, and his mark was in the system. That was useful to know. If you were the mark, some warning was a good idea, and the HUD should have changed him to a red, since he would have been an enemy to me. If the mark was someone else, it would be useful to know where to stay away from. Some missiles didn’t care who they hit, and stupid people fired the wrong ones sometimes. Better to stay away from a combat about to happen. But also from a salvage perspective, knowing there might be a couple of wrecks about to become available was newsworthy, as wrecks recovered equaled credits. I started making notes on the overlay I really wanted.

  “Time to go. Tool up,” said Aleesha. She and Amanda had changed over again without me noticing. I had a habit of doing that, getting so engrossed in something that I didn't notice what was going on around me. Could be fatal if I wasn’t careful. I checked the sensor package, it was on and functioning normally. I went over to the desk, and ‘tooled up’. No sign of Alison. We headed out the door, Aleesha ahead.

  Just after we exited the main hotel door, Amanda took up position behind me. The three of us strode towards station management, not as fast as we had yesterday, but at a reasonable clip even though I still had an obvious limp. There were a few cautious glances our way, so I assumed we looked lethal. An Ensign met us at the lifts, and escorted us to the General’s office. We exchanged good mornings and I sat facing him across his desk. Amanda was glued beside the door again, and Aleesha was somewhere out in the general office area.

  “How are you holding up after yesterday?” the General asked.

  “Good,” I replied. “I got in a nap in the afternoon and we had a great meal in the evening.”

  “We will be buying your five Gladiators from you. It’s quicker than building new ones, and the Talons we previously relied upon don’t seem to be able to handle the Gladiators too well, so there seems no point in buying more of them. We need some ships out there patrolling as soon as possible. I’ve sent offers to Bob Derr and we will deal through him. He is already working on them. I didn’t think you would mind.”

  “Not at all. I don’t want them, I just told Bob to keep any ordinance left over for me.”

  “Have you decided what you'll get?”

  “Not yet. I’ll have a look at the options after I leave you.”

  “Right, let me know when you have a ship and are ready to work.”

  “About the work General, what are you going to be asking of me?”

  “Not what you think,” he said smiling. “In the short term, we will need you to fly some sector patrols. You will be given an Ident each time you do an official patrol for us, that will identify you to others as a militia ship. Might confuse a few people, but it is better that when working for us, you show to others as legitimate militia. Your rank does carry some weight."

  "We will send you a package about possible duties that may arise of a general nature. You have been placed on ‘detached service’, which means you don’t fit into anyone’s chain of command. You get your orders direct from me and no-one else. You can go where you want, when you want. I will be kept informed of where you are, and if you happen to be near a trouble spot, I will send you orders. You will be paid the going rate for the mission type and any bounties you can claim in the process."

  "For example, if you get a mission to patrol a system, you will get a nav map of where we want you to go. If you see anyone with a militia bounty on them, you are allowed to attack on sight. You can go after other bounties as well, as long as the mission is completed. You can interrupt a non-time sensitive mission if you need to rearm or repair, or if something unexpected crops-up. As long as you complete it in a reasonable fashion. If at any time you decide
to stop flying a fighter, let me know, and we will adjust missions according to what you are flying. In any case, for the short term, you have a ‘pirate problem’, and there is not going to be much point in giving you missions you cannot complete because the pirates have not given up attacking you on sight. We will monitor that and send you any help we can. Are you going to go after them?”

  “I hadn't planned to. Retribution is not big on Outback. It is not the done thing.” I didn’t think he wanted to hear about karma so I stopped there. “I do plan to get a ship that has a lot better shielding and hits harder. Every time they keep attacking me, I want them to think harder if it's really worth it or not. I’ve certainly got enough credits to buy something special, so I will do that.”

  “Have you heard of the Centurion?”

  “No.”

  “Also a Bounty Hunter heavy fighter, but by all accounts it is a much better ship than the Gladiator. We don’t use them because they cost a lot more and it takes a really good pilot to get the best out of them.” That was interesting because it seemed to imply the average service pilot wasn’t so good, and that I was.

  “I’ll have a look at it, thanks.”

  “Uniforms. You are not required to wear a service uniform, but on missions for us, it would be a good idea.”

  “I think I can do that easily enough. If you could have someone send me a full hollo of each type of uniform and when it’s worn, I’ll see about getting my suit to emulate it. That way if I need to look official, I can change my suit to the appropriate uniform temporarily. Likewise whenever I’m reporting to you or are in military areas.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll make arrangements and have them pulsed to you. I’ll also send you a military add-on to your social settings. That way any officer can see your public record, and that will include the detached nature of your service, and a reference to me as your direct superior. That saves any officious officer from giving you orders and you needing to ignore them, which could get ugly.” I could see that. I definitely wasn’t taking orders from some officer who liked giving people orders. And I was junior enough that without something tangible from a senior officer, I would not be able to question the orders.

  “Any questions, Pilot Officer?”

  “No sir, at least not now. I may have later.” I paused. “Oh, do I salute and all that? I’ve no idea how.” He laughed.

  “I’ll also have you sent the basic training manual. But since you only salute on receipt of orders, and I’m the only one giving you orders, it is not a requirement as far as I am concerned. By the way, what did you tell Colonel Smith?”

  “I turned her down gently sir. But I made a point of saying I’d be happy to work with them if they thought they needed me.”

  “That’s fine with me. Smith knows her job. If you work for her, let me know, so we don’t send you a mission that conflicts. She did mention the possibility to me. One of her requirements for joining her outfit is that everyone comes from a military background. You don’t of course, but the rule will stretch to someone who carries a military rank. She didn’t mention that?”

  “No sir, she didn’t.” But it made sense.

  “Very well then, off with you. Find yourself a ship so we can start using you.”

  I was glad that was over, and quickly left his office. Amanda fell into step behind me and then Aleesha in front of me, and we proceeded out of ‘military country’.

  “Home Jeeves,” I said to Aleesha.

  She threw a strange look at me back over her shoulder, but didn’t break step. Once back at the hotel, we fell into our normal roles, Aleesha vanishing, Amanda looking blank in her chair, me engrossed in mine.

  I looked up the Centurion. It was shaped more like an atmospheric craft with real wings. On each wing were hard points for three guns, for a total of six, where the Gladiator mounted four. It seemed to have two and a half decks. The top deck had the cockpit, living quarters a bit bigger than the Gladiator and a real airlock. The living space had a large single bed, a very small desk and chair, and a fresher unit just large enough to stand in. There was also a micro kitchen and small robe and storage unit. Very compact and not exactly inviting for long journeys. The half deck was below. There was a slot at the front and another at the back that could take various combat units and reload magazines for them. The slot at the back could also be loaded with a rear facing turret. That would be useful for putting off a bogie trying to get into your kill slot. The lower deck had a modest cargo bay at the front capable of taking a dozen pallets. The rest was engines and generators. Nice looking ship.

  I noticed a link to download a simulation and did that. I activated it and immediately I got a hollo projection of the front section of the cockpit as if I was sitting in the pilot’s chair, including controls. Just like a real ship, I lifted it off, flew it out into space and gave the controls a workout to see what it could do. Very responsive, but a bit slower than I’d have liked. I loaded guns and missile launcher, and took it through a series of combat simulations against Gladiators. It performed very well, but against four hostiles, the shields took more of a beating than I felt was comfortable. I’d have to see what Bob could do.

  “Food?” said Amanda, and I jumped clear out of the chair and fell back heavily on my left side. She laughed at me. I’d been so engrossed once again that I’d lost track of time. A quick glance at the pad showed stacked up emails again. I pinged Bob Derr requesting a meeting in the afternoon, and he pinged back that he’d have the shuttle over shortly. I got up and followed Amanda into the kitchen. We ate, she swapped with Aleesha, who ate while I attended to emails. We then headed over to the shuttle bay and thus to the shipyard and Bob’s office.

  Fifteen

  “Ah good, Jon, a boy left yesterday and a man returns today,” said Bob. I did not have a clue what he was talking about, except maybe it was the clothes. I nodded politely. “What have you decided?”

  “The General suggested I look at the Centurion. I put the simulation through its paces.” He nodded. “It’s a nice ship, but a bit slow and under shielded for what I need.”

  “Speed is a function of the engine chosen. Shielding is a function of the generator chosen. Both must be balanced by a power generator sufficient to run both at the same time, as well as other things such as life support and weapons. The standard ship carries what balances best. If you overdo one, you must under do another, and such choices have consequences.”

  “Fine. That’s the standard spiel, what do you tell someone with credits to spend?” He grinned at me.

  “Yon General has told me they will buy all five Gladiators from me, assuming I can successfully negotiate a deal with you. I know what they'll pay, but not what you will take. However, on that basis, I know what you have to ‘spend’ without actually spending any credits, give or a take some good bargaining. Let us put aside for now your issues of speed and shielding, and talk fittings. The standard model comes clean without much of anything. Into it you must put a bed, guns, ordinance and sundry extras. What have you in mind?”

  “Bed wise, I’ll go with the best available, one suited to bruises down one side.” That drew another smile.

  “Guns wise,” I went on, “what do you recommend? I forgot to look at them.”

  “How good a shot are you?” he asked.

  “With a rifle, fairly good, not that I got much chance to practice at home. But as part of space preparation training, we did have to learn how to handle a variety of weapons.”

  “There are several options. You can get a very fast rate of fire with low hitting value. These ‘streamer’ lasers are like a hose of water. You start the flow of shots which stream out, and you ‘walk’ it onto the target and hold it there. Very good for people who can’t shoot worth a damn. At the other extreme are pulse guns that shoot out a pulse at intervals dependent on the recharge rate. The more powerful the pulse, the slower they recharge and the better the aim needed to use them effectively. Between, you have variations of both extrem
es.”

  “What was on the Gladiators?”

  “Low end of the pulses. Relatively fast rate of fire, but not much damage caused with each pulse.”

  “Explains why they rely mostly on IR missiles,” I suggested.

  “Indeed. What would you prefer?”

  “Do you have a simulation?”

  He pinged me the trigger. I spent a bit of time on each gun, using them in mock combat and seeing the effect.

  “I’ll go with the level ten pulses. They will be slower than most will expect, and hit harder than they expect, assuming I can get them to hit. If need be after I’ve tried them in combat, I can always change them up or down, or mix them up a bit, but for now, I think they will suit me.” One of the reasons why I’d gone for these was that if all six hit at the same place, they would cause hull damage, if not disable the ship in one go. Required being a good shot, but the simulation seemed to indicate that I could use them effectively.

  “What are the options for rear turret?” I went on.

  “You can fit a single, dual or quad mount on there. Depends on the purpose which one I would recommend.”

  “I was thinking a primary purpose of being point defense, and a secondary of upsetting anyone getting comfortable in my kill slot.” Point defense is a weapon designed to kill missiles or any other object that might impact the hull, as far away as possible. They also needed to be quick firing and fast tracking. The kill slot is the position directly behind you, giving a straight shot up your tail pipe. The two objectives were not always compatible.

  “For that, I recommend the quad turret and the heavy point defense lasers. The turret is fast tracking and the guns have a very rapid fire, although quite a low hit value. However, one shot will take out any missile, and a few dozen will scare off anyone behind you.”

  “Done. What missile launch options are there?” I asked.

  “There are two sorts of launchers. Re-loadable and not. In either twenty or fifty missile loads. The cheap end fire in the order they are loaded. The expensive end are fully selectable by missile type. The reloads for fighters are one shot, but are also twenty or fifty missile capacity. Most go for a twenty with no reload, and it’s about half and half as to being selectable or not. There is one other option. That's the one hundred shot torpedo launcher. These are small very fast dumb file missiles on a one second re-fire that pack a wallop. Aimed well, they can do as much damage as your guns all hitting at once. Three hits in as many seconds can destroy a medium fighter. They are not often used, except by exceptional pilots with excellent aim.”