Hunter Legacy 5 Hail the Hero (8 page)

Alison was waiting with several Commanders,
in a room off the meeting room the ceremony was to be held in. She was wearing
Hunter Dress.

We settled into extremely comfortable
chairs to wait. There was already the sounds of people moving in the next room.

“Sir,” she said to me, “we
need to fix your salute.”

“What’s wrong with my salute?”

“What right with it, you mean.”

She had a point. I’d never been taught. She
spent the next five minutes teaching me, and bullied me for the next ten in
practicing. Chet and one of the Commanders found the whole thing funny. The
other Commander obviously couldn’t figure out why an Admiral wouldn’t know how
to do something as basic as saluting. Fortunately, it was using my right arm,
as the left one still wouldn’t function too well above shoulder height. Another
reason for getting a checkup while I was here.

“Now,” said Alison, when she
thought I had it, “you’ll stand to the left of Admiral Jedburgh, and as he
recites the citation, Commander Wantanbe will pass you the medal.”

“He’ll what?” I interrupted.

“He’ll pass you the medal.”

“Why?”

She sighed.

“Get a grip Jon, will you. You’re
presenting the medals as the commander of the campaign.”

There was an immediate frown from the one
Commander, and wider grins from Chet and the other.

“It’s so hard to get respectful help
these days,” I said to Chet.

The two of them laughed, and the other
frowned even more.

“Focus,” said Alison.
“Commander Wantanbe will hand you the medal. When the recipient is at
attention in front of you, you’ll hand them the medal, shake hands with your
right hand, and then answer their salute. There will be no hugs.”

Chet lost it.

A lieutenant poked his head around a door
and announced, “They’re almost ready for you sirs,” before vanishing
again.

Chet made an effort to bring his face under
control.

At precisely nine, we walked into the
ceremony room. As soon as we were in place at the front, Admiral Jedburgh
entered, and took his place at the speaker’s lectern. Alison jogged me with an
elbow from the side that hid her from the officers facing us, and I stepped
forward to stand on Jedburgh’s left. The frown Commander took his place next
and slightly behind me, with a table of small boxes next to him. Alison was
behind me, the only person in the room not in American Dress.

“We are gathered here,” said
Jedburgh, “to honour those whose actions in the past few weeks have
brought honour to themselves, and the American Space Force. As the commander of
our forces in the Midgard system, and for the last few days of the war, Admiral
Hunter will be making the awards.”

He read out a long list of names, all of
whom had been awarded medals posthumously.

Then he started in on the living. Time and
faces blurred, as I handed out medals, shook hands, and saluted. Some were
promoted at the same time. Greer came before me, followed by Miriam. I could
see she was making as much effort to keep her face neutral as I was, while she
took several medals from me, shook my hand, and we saluted. The blur continued
with higher ranks.

Finally, the flow of officers stopped. Four
boxes remained.

“Vice Admiral Hunter,” said
Admiral Jedburgh. “Front and center please.”

Oh hell. Not again. This isn’t right. I
moved to stand in front of him, and braced to attention. He talked past me.

“This admittedly young man, came to us
as a pilot, and quickly showed our pilots how it’s done. We let him go, before
we realized we had a relentless foe on our doorstep who refused to communicate.
He went on to be the strategic and tactical mind behind a multi-sector battle
fleet. And at the last, his quick thinking saved many of us from a sudden and
unexpected death.” He could see me looking extremely uncomfortable with
this, but he was the only person who could. “This man can’t see what his
actions meant for us in the final battle. He gave an incredible sounding order,
which was followed immediately by Commanders who trusted his judgement,
influencing Captains who didn’t know him, and so successful was his order, that
Yorktown and the ships with her, all survived certain destruction. He couldn’t
see what we could, when his final missile salvo jumped to our side, and
destroyed the last six Missile Cruisers, seconds before they fired towards an
already badly damaged Lexington. He ordered the impossible, and it was done. He
did the impossible, and the day was saved. Yet he’s so humble, he can’t see
past putting Yorktown and her fleet in harm’s way, through his suggestion of
tactics we adopted. Was it his fault we were in harm’s way?”

“HELL NO SIR!” said the entire
room, as if they were on a parade ground.

“Where do we live?”

“IN HARMS WAY!”

“Was he responsible for victory that
day?”

“SIR YES SIR!”

It took a huge effort at that point, for me
to not cry where I stood, and I was dangerously close to collapsing, hyper
aware of my bruises. All I could do was lock my suit, so I couldn’t move. A
room full of officers were behaving like troops on a parade ground, and I just
couldn’t wrap my head around it. My left temple began to throb. I upped my pain
medication.

Finally, Admiral Jedburgh looked directly
at me.

“Vice Admiral Hunter. You are awarded
a silver star for the final battle of the Miami jump point, a Distinguished
Service Cross for the missiles which destroyed the final six Missile Cruisers,
and the Medal of Honour for leadership, tactical and strategic brilliance on
the battlefield, while at risk of your own life. Normally a Medal of Honour is
awarded by the President of the American Sector, but it was considered in this
case to be more important the award be made now, in the aftermath of a war just
won, while the recipient is still a member of the American Space Force.
Congratulations Admiral Hunter.”

Commander Wantanbe passed him the medal
boxes, I unlocked my suit arms, he passed them to me, we shook hands, and
saluted each other. The room went crazy behind us.

“Attention to Orders,” bellowed
Commander Wantanbe.

The room reluctantly quieted.

“There are two last items of business
today. Vice Admiral Hunter, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Admiral,
effective immediately, and retired from service with the American Space Force,
effective at oh seven hundred tomorrow. Congratulations Admiral.”

I just about passed out on the spot. Only
my locked suit held me up.

Commander Wantanbe passed him the last box,
he gave it to me, and we shook and saluted once more.

“This ceremony is at an end.
Dismissed. See you all at the celebration this afternoon.”

The mass of officers began to file out. I
released the suit lock, and made an effort to stay on my feet.

Darius led me back into the room we’d come
out of, and sat me down in a chair. He wore a huge grin on his face, as did
Chet and Alison.

“You’re out of uniform Admiral,”
he said, when we were all comfortable.

I shook my head, still having a hard time
believing what had just happened. I opened each box, and removed the medals and
insignia. I scanned the insignia, and added them to my American uniforms. Next
I scanned each medal ribbon and added them to all my uniforms, reordering them
from high to low merit. I added Hunter four star insignia to my Hunter
epaulettes. Finally, I changed my American Dress to show the new additions.

“Congratulations sir,” said Chet.
We shook.

Alison pulled me out of my chair and hugged
me. The Admirals smiled. She finally released me, and I sank back into the
chair. A lieutenant offered me a ginger ale, and then offered drinks to the
Admirals and Alison after me. He even offered a drink to Jane, standing quietly
out of the way. I drank without really tasting anything. Except for my bruises,
I was numb.

“Jon,” said Darius, “you’re
officially off duty now until the celebration at four. We’ll see you
there.”

They left me sitting there with Alison. I
told her what I wanted to do next, and pinged George to be ready.

Precisely at eleven, Alison, Jane, and I, me
now in Hunter Dress uniform, strode into the Rec Room on Deck Two of BigMother.

The room went crazy, and I was hugged by
all the women, and hand shaken by all the men.

When things started to calm down, I looked at
Alison.

“You pinged Annabelle during the
ceremony, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” she laughed.

I shook my head in wonder, and moved to
stand against the main wall. Alison moved to my side. I nodded to George, and
he also moved to my side.

“Attention to Orders,” bellowed
Alison.

At least she tried to bellow, but she
didn’t really have a parade ground voice.

The room came to attention.

“Dress uniforms please,” I said.

The room shifted as suits changed.

“As your name is called,” said
Alison, “come front and center please.”

A mutter went around the room, and was
quickly silenced.

“George is going to pulse you new uniforms,”
I said. “Please update both your normal wear and Dress, and display your
new Dress uniform. Hunter Security is instituting new ranks and insignia.
Epaulettes will now indicate which service branch you belong to, by colour. Green
is ground based ranks. Grey is fleet. Blue is fighter. Insignia are now
standardized, although rank names will vary between branches. Some of these
ranks vary from other services, and several are unique to Hunter. George will
pulse you the full list after this ceremony. Regardless of the insignia you
wear, you will please display your rank at all times on your PC profiles. At
times, some of them will cause confusion outside of Hunter, but if you’re
displaying them publically, this can hopefully be minimized.”

I watched as they all received their pulse,
and changed to the new uniform.

I nodded to Alison.

“Specialist’s Aline Takai, Agatha Merritt,
and Alana Henquist.”

Aline, Agatha, and Alana came forward, now
wearing the insignia of a Corporal.

“There’s no rank of Specialist within
Hunter Security,” I said, “hence the rank of Corporal, those who were
a Specialist are now wearing. Corporal’s Takai, Merritt, and Henquist, you are
promoted to the rank of Sergeant. Congratulation’s.”

They tried to shake hands formerly, but
couldn’t stop themselves hugging me as well. George sent them new uniforms, and
they shifted into them. The room applauded as they went back to their places.

“Sergeant Abigail Weaver,” said
Alison.

She braced to attention in front of me.

“Sergeant Weaver, you are promoted to
the rank of Senior Sergeant. Congratulations.”

We shook and hugged, and she returned to
her place.

“Flight Officers Jones, Taylor and
Williams.”

The three of them looked very surprised as
they came forward, and braced to attention.

“Flight Officers, you are promoted to
Flight Lieutenant. Congratulations. In addition, you are each assigned to fly
brand new Excalibur Privateers, which should be delivered this evening. The
ship names and AI’s, match your call signs.”

They looked elated as they shook my hand,
changed their uniforms, and moved back. I could understand why. Once they left
British Fleet to be mercenaries, they’d lost any expectation of promotion. It’s
not that promotion didn’t happen in mercenary units, but small units didn’t
have much need for rank. And they all wanted to fly Excalibur’s.

Alison opened her mouth to say the next
name, but I beat her to it.

“Lieutenant Alison Vogane,” I
said.

Looking surprised, she braced in front of
me, wearing green epaulettes.

“There’s no rank of Captain within
Hunter Security. A captain is considered a title, and not a rank. Therefore
Lieutenant, you are promoted to the rank of Major. Congratulations.”

George pulsed her the new uniforms as we
shook, and then hugged. There was a stir around the room when she activated
them.

“You will notice Alison and I both
have red epaulettes. Red is my command colour, and will be worn only by myself,
and my staff. Alison took on the role of my aide the other day, and is now
confirmed in that role.” I looked at Annabelle. “This won’t preclude
her team duties when required.”

She smiled and nodded. Alison had been the
team’s administrator and medic, before joining me.

I nodded to Alison, and she stepped back to
her place beside me.

“Lieutenant’s Peck,” she
announced.

Amanda and Aleesha braced before me.

“Lieutenants, you are also promoted to
Major. Congratulations.”

They both hugged me at the same time. They
stepped back beaming.

“Flight Lieutenant Brown.”

He braced in front of me, and gave me a
quivering salute.

“Flight Lieutenant, you are promoted
to the rank of Squadron Leader. Congratulations. You are also assigned to a new
Excalibur.”

He shook my hand, gave me another quivering
salute, which I returned this time without the quiver, and returned to stand
with his squadron mates.

“Eric Neilson.”

Eric was shocked to be called forward. He’d
been standing towards the back with John Slice, quietly enjoying the show.

He came forward and braced.

“Eric. You dropped unexpectedly into a
warzone, and were almost killed after you bailed out. Most civilians, even
military trained ones, would be expected to seek a safe place for the duration,
after such an experience. Not only did you not hide, you were there when you
were needed, putting your life on the line with everyone else. No-one asked
you, you didn’t volunteer, you weren’t drafted, or conscripted, but you were
simply there. Such duty to friends and sector demand recognition. Eric Neilson,
you are offered a commission in Hunter Security with the rank of Flight
Lieutenant. Do you accept?”

He was stunned, and looked around to see
his boss’s reaction. John Slice smiled, and nodded.

“I accept,” he said.

“Flight Lieutenant,” I began. I’d
looked up his record and found it had been his rank when he’d left military
service. “You are promoted to Lieutenant Commander, and assigned to
command the Camel class Corvette Nascaspider, on indefinite assignment to the
Apricot Mapping Service. Congratulations.”

He hugged me.

I knew he wanted a Camel desperately, and I
was effectively giving him one of the two he’d been flying since Midnight. He’d
become a good friend in a short time. And I wanted to make sure he could handle
anything exploration threw at him in the future. Sure, Slice was going to build
him one eventually anyway, but what use was credits if you couldn’t give a good
friend a gift now and then.

He released me, saluted and went back to
stand by his boss, now proudly wearing his Hunter uniform. I pinged him to see
Alison afterwards. He nodded to me from the back of the room.

“Squadron Leader Lacey.”

He literally marched into position, and
braced to attention, also with a quivering salute.

“Squadron Leader, your performance at
the Midnight Blockade was given a glowing testimonial by General Harriman.
Since then, you’ve flown Camel, and General Custer. You have a choice to make.
Would you like to remain with fighters, or move to fleet?”

“Fighters,” he said with no
hesitation.

“Squadron Leader, you are promoted to
Wing Commander, and assigned to command Camel. Congratulations.”

We shook hands, saluted, and he returned to
his squadron mates.

“Lieutenant Commander Murdock,”
said Alison.

George looked surprised, which was
understandable, because he’d been promoted only recently, and so had no
expectation of another one. However, I had something else in mind. He braced
before me.

“Lieutenant Commander, you are
assigned to command the Excalibur class Privateer Gorilla.” There was
general laughter at the name, although everyone knew it was his call sign as
well. He grinned as he realized he was getting what he most wanted.
“Further, when I’m not present, you will Captain the Assault Frigate
General Custer. When I’m present, you will act as her XO. Gorilla will be
hangered in the General Custer. Congratulations.”

George hugged me. I pulsed him his new
epaulettes, grey ones instead of the blue he was wearing. While a Lieutenant
Commander was a fleet rank, it had been awarded first by the Americans, who
used the same ranks for both fleet and fighters. He’d been flying fighters
since the war started, hence the blue. Now, as Captain of the Custer, he was
being moved to fleet officially. If Lacey had asked for Custer, I’d have
assigned George to Camel.

As he stepped back, Alison called, “Commodore
Daniel O’Neil.”

He braced before me, looking proud to be
here.

“Commodore, you are promoted to the
rank of Fleet Admiral, which is the equivalent of what other services call a
Rear Admiral, Lower Half. You will take command of the station Hunters Redoubt,
which will stay permanently in the Midnight system. You remain Captain of the
John Wayne, and shall command the fleet stationed at the station.
Congratulations.”

He hugged me too.

He’d never expected to make Cruiser
captain, let alone Admiral.

When he released me, I went on, “See
me after lunch. I have orders for you and Lieutenant Commander Bronson.”

I saw her nod at the mention of her name.
Also recently promoted, she wasn’t expecting anything, as she already had what
she wanted most. Her epaulettes had changed to grey as well, since she also
commanded a Corvette.

“Are all your crew out of hospital
yet?” I asked O’Neil.

“No sir, the last come out tomorrow.
But I’d like you to meet someone who came out today.”

He beckoned to a lady his own age, I’d not
seen before. She walked over slowly.

“Sir,” he said, “may I
present my wife Leonie, my XO on Custer.”

“I’m delighted to meet you,” I
said. “Will you join him on John Wayne?”

“I will,” she said.

“Admiral, you’ll need to get your last
crew out of hospital this afternoon. If need be, move them to the Medical Bay
here. Also have each one report to Alison, so they can be formally employed. As
I told you, they’ll be back dated so they began the day you did.”

“Thank you sir.”

He led his wife back to where they’d been.
She patted his right star as if she couldn’t believe it was there.

“Jane please.”

That surprised everyone.

Her avatar came to attention before me.

“Jane, you are given the rank of Fleet
Captain. This avatar will wear the red epaulette with the full bird, as the
Americans say.” Her suit changed immediately. “Your avatar’s running
the Liner and freighters, will wear the four thick rings of a civilian senior
Captain, on the dull red epaulette.”

“Confirmed. And thank you.”

“I don’t know about everyone else, but
you’re more than just an AI, or the ship’s avatar. And I’m not just thinking
about how much more than a normal AI you’ve had to take on, and master, to keep
us alive. You’re my friend, and your part of the team. You deserve an
appropriate rank for what you do for us.”

“Damned right!” said BA.

Everyone laughed. Jane returned to the
corner she’d been observing from, a grin plastered on her face.

“There’s one last thing before we have
lunch. John Slice please.”

He walked over and stood before me, but
didn’t brace. I held out my hand, and he took it.

“John, we haven’t known each other
very long, but it’s felt like years. In my people’s terms, meeting you was like
two old souls meeting up once again in a new lifetime. I consider you a friend,
and Hunter Security considers the Apricot Mapping Service a friend. If you ever
need anything, we’ll be there.”

“Thank you Jon,” he said with a
grin, as we continued to shake. We broke the grip, and he went back to where
Eric was standing.

“That’s all for this ceremony. There’s
a celebration on the Orbital station starting at four, with dinner after.
Assemble at the main airlock at three thirty please. We’ll move there in
formation. Dress uniforms. We head to the London system at seven tomorrow
morning. Pilots, I suggest you use the early afternoon to get your Trader and
Bounty Hunter Guild memberships. Fleet Admiral, you too please. One of the pilots
will explain it to you.”

There was a series of nods.

“Now, let’s eat!”

BA came up to me before I could move, with
her hand raised.

We high fived.