Make or Break the Hero (The Hunter Legacy Book 4) (3 page)

While I waited for the station's people to
return, I had two options. No, make that three. I could think. I could do
karmic releases for all the people I'd killed this morning. Or I could go back
to sleep. The latter was my favourite.

Releases.

I never ignored this voice in my head. It
was always right. One day I wanted to figure out who was talking to me. So far,
it had refused to identify itself. Such is the way trust and faith work. I had
them, it knew this.

At home, we believed that any negative
event between two people showed the presence of karma between the two. We took
karma seriously. Within meditation, we used a specific statement to release the
karma of the event or person. Every kid had this memorized before they were
eight.

Home was Gaia, but it was locked away
behind Outback system's isolation policy, for all except five days a year. The
next Door home didn't open for over ten months. I'd missed the last window to
return home, when the events of the last couple of months had begun, with a
Pirate trying to kill me. There were not a lot of Pirates left in the
Australian sector now, thanks to me, and their single minded need to kill me.

In less than two months, fifty two days to
be precise, I'd gone from an eighteen year old space apprentice on his first
flight away from home, to full Rear Admiral in three space forces. Personally,
I couldn’t see why they kept promoting me, except General Smith had once told
me I projected command, even if I didn’t know it. Admiral Jedburgh had used the
word genius on one occasion. Nope, I can't see it. I'm just me, doing what I
have to.

"Jane, let me know when Gunbus
docks."

"Confirmed."

Stop thinking. Start releasing.

I sighed. Meditation state comes easy to
me, having meditated since I can remember. Outback was colonized by spiritual
groups who wanted a place no-one else wanted, where they could be left in
peace. So far it had worked. A few missiles here and there, ensured it worked.
Kids are taught to meditate early.

I let 'the voice' guide me in what needed
to be released. I had no idea how many people had died by my hand today, so I
needed the guidance for once.

My official kill score was now six hundred
and six. But that didn’t take into account the crews and soldiers on the
Cruisers.

George had once asked me why I wasn’t a
basket case, being a spiritual person forced to kill. I'd responded that we
took the responsibility for our own actions seriously. It didn’t involve us
being a doormat. When we did something against life and karma, we did the
releases, which included forgiveness for all involved, including ourselves. BA
had called me a 'Warrior of God'. The term made me cringe. We didn’t use the
'G' word at home, preferring the word Divine. And the Divine had no need of
warriors.

So sure, you are.

This voice I knew. Buddha Amitabha.

So I'm a warrior of God?

We communicated in conversation mode, inside
my head.

Silence.

I hated it when they made statements and
wouldn't answer questions after.

All in good time.

In other words, have patience.

I completed the releases and nodded off.

I found myself in a fog. People were
yelling at me, but I couldn’t see them. I told them to shut up and let me
sleep. Something solid hit my left foot.

I woke.

People were shouting at me.

"Ouch!" I said.

"Serves you right," said Amanda.
"Who gave you the right to decide when the team fights or runs?"

She was angry again. I could tell, because
I'd seen her anger directed at me once before. I'd accidently left her behind
once.

"You did," I responded.

She hit my left foot with the butt of her
gun again.

"Stop doing that," I yelled at
her. I made an effort to calm down, while my foot throbbed. I had enough
trouble already, with bruising down my left side, without being attacked by my
friends. "Sorry, I wouldn't be yelling if everyone else was talking
normally. It's been a long morning."

Amanda looked like she wanted to whack my
foot again, but reluctantly holstered her gun instead.

They all looked glum. They knew they'd
given me the power when they joined me, instead of me joining them. They didn’t
like running away though. They were professional Mercenaries, originally
Smith's Alpha Team, before they joined me, and as BA had put it, they went in
at the shit end.

I looked around the room at their faces,
faces I'd come to love like family.

Amanda and Aleesha Peck, identical twin
sisters, had originally been assigned as bodyguards for me, while I learned how
things worked, and how to defend myself. We had a relationship that was still
evolving. They were an ongoing tease. We shared the shower together on
occasions, and had spent one memorable night together doing more than sleep.
More interesting though, we shared dreams, including the nightmare I'd been
getting since I was a small child. We didn't know why this was happening. Yet.

Alison, who I noticed wasn’t in her
hospital bed after all, had helped me learn as well. The four of us were more
than friends. Alison, who was the team medic and administrator, had a knack for
massage, and I'd taught her what I knew of Reiki. For some reason I still
didn’t understand, our massage sessions had a habit of ending in sex. Back
home, no-one had ever suggested this might happen. But then, I was a lot
younger when I learned, and it wasn’t the sort of thing you'd mention to a child.
Then again, it wasn’t very professional for it to happen either, so maybe they
steered clear of the whole situation, and hoped people avoided it. Maybe they
taught healer ethics later on. I didn’t know. In spite of being a good healer,
I'd been mad for space, so I’d never completed any of the healer courses.

Once I'd learned the basics of protecting
myself, mainly from Amanda, who as sexy as she looked, was downright scary when
in professional Mercenary mode, I'd fought with the team, generating a feeling
of family with them.

Brigadier General Annabelle Smith was the
grey haired older officer you could look up to, a quietly decisive and
effective leader. As she now worked for me, and I carried higher rank now, I
was finally able to call her by her first name. I wasn’t sure why it was now so
much easier, but it was.

George Murdock was the sole other man on
the team, now a combat pilot, who'd once been something of a
do-a-bit-of-everything sort of warrior. He'd had to step up without warning,
and had proved himself over the last few days. He was the one who introduced me
to suit programming. His fighter call sign was 'Gorilla', as he'd been seen
wearing a Gorilla outfit while in the midst of a furious combat melee.

Command Sergeant Major Anne (BA) Baracas, was
the combat leader, tough as nails, but surprisingly, loving little kittens as
much as I do. She'd surprised me several times now with some very insightful
comments. She might act like a tough grunt, but she'd a brain, and used it.

Abigail was the tech, computers and coms being
her stated specialty. But I'd always had the notion she was a hacker of
exceptional ability. I intended to put that to the test sometime soon.

Aline and Agatha were dropship gunners. Combat
Mercenaries used special ships designed for rapid entry into the atmosphere of
planets, so they could deploy as fast as possible. Alas, we didn't have one at
the moment, as theirs had been destroyed during the Pompeii civil war. Another
thing I was planning to address. They'd proved themselves just as adept with
Corvette turrets against missiles.

Alana was the demolitions expert. I hadn't
seen her practice her trade as yet. I'm not sure I wanted to. She was also a
competent gunner.

I'd not had much chance to talk to Aline, Agatha
and Alana so far. Of the team, they seemed the most aloof. Although it was
Aline who'd pushed the most, to include me in the team.

All the girls were somewhere between twenty
and thirty, and had gorgeously fit bodies. I knew, having seen them all naked. We'd
shared a spa after I'd pulled the team out of Pompeii. They were all very
casual about nudity.

I'd hardly finished looking around at them,
when more people entered the CCC.

General Vonda Wellington was my current
boss. She had three stars to my two, except that Admirals wore stripes and not
stars. Behind her came Commander Alsop, her aide. Vonda looked the room over in
a cursory glance.

"We need to talk," she said in a
serious tone, looking at me. "Everyone out please."

They all left, looking somewhat more cheery
now.

Acting like a hero didn’t mean you didn’t
get your butt kicked. And apparently they still thought I needed it.

After they'd gone, Vonda stood there,
looking up at me. She chuckled.

"Like it up there, do you?" she
asked.

"As it happens, yes." I grinned
at her. "But don’t blame me, the AI designed it. I'm just sitting here
because this is where the pilot controls are."

"I'll take your word for it. Millions
won't."

I climbed down, and we settled into
adjoining console chairs. I wondered why Janet hadn't added the obligatory
conference room to the design. She and Jane kept downloading my entertainment
library, and throwing things at me from what I viewed. So they should know
every Bridge has a conference room attached. Come to think of it, there was no
Captain's ready room either. Mystifying.

Vonda looked at me really hard. The last
time she'd done this, she'd been trying to work out if I was a homicidal
maniac. I waited.

"If you're insane, I guess I'm not
competent to spot it."

I gave her the Maniac grin.

"On the other hand," she began.

"Let's not go there?" I
suggested.

"I could just get you psych evaluated
I suppose." I shuddered. "But I guess it would take too long, and we
need you here for now." I smiled. "Exactly why did you evacuate the
station?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the
time." She didn’t look impressed. "Okay, put it this way. I took a
gamble that one pilot and two AI's, could outfight six Missile Cruisers, and
one hundred and eighty Talons, using the unique design of this station. If I
was wrong, the only person who got hurt was me."

"And me," interjected Janet.

"All of our ships were damaged. And we'd
less than half what we started with. Trying to repeat what we did earlier was
just going to be suicide. I figured if it was going to be a one way trip to
hell, there was no point in taking anyone else with me."

"And how long did it take you to work
all that out?"

"About thirty seconds."

"I'm glad you took proper time to
think it through."

"There was no time."

"I know. I'm just finding out how you
tick."

"I'm ticking?" I deliberately
tried to deflect things with what was a bad joke.

"Ha-ha. Well, you managed to scare the
shit out of everyone, but it worked. I wish you'd called me to discuss it
first, but that’s what a combat commander is there for. To make the hard calls,
and get the job done." She paused. "You've a reputation for being a hero.
What you just did, would make or break anyone. Most, I suspect, would have
broken. If anything, it looks like it made you. You came out of it stronger
than before."

George and I had discussed the whole 'hero'
thing. Neither of us understood it. I let it go.

"With, not to mention, a sore
foot."

"I gather your team aren't impressed
you left them behind?"

"You noticed?"

"A bit obvious. I'll have a word with
General Smith for you."

"Thanks." I sighed. "Lunch?"

"I've eaten, but you go ahead."

"By my reckoning we've about two and a
half hours before the next attack arrives. Which reminds me. Janet?"

"Yes my Lord?"

"Move us back to the edge of scanner
range of the jump point. I want to be able to see when they down jump as soon
as they do, but I don’t want us anywhere near them. Have Repulse follow us.
Leave the salvage droids to continue building a debris field in front of the
jump point, but recall them in two hours."

"Yes my Lord."

"Janet, do you have to call me
that?"

"Yes my Lord."

Vonda laughed while I sighed. Or laughed at
me sighing, I wasn’t quite sure.

I headed for Gunbus. The way was no longer
littered with bodies and debris. For the first time I wondered where all the
bodies went. I asked Jane.

"They go into the station's waste
management system. Eventually their remains fertilize the parks and gardens.
Except for our dead soldiers, who are in the morgue awaiting transport back to
Avon."