Hero at Large Read online

  Hero at Large

  Second Edition

  By Timothy Ellis

  The Hunter Legacy, Book One

  First Edition

  Published on Kindle

  April 2015

  Second Edition

  Published on Kindle

  April 2018

  Copyright © 2014, 2018, by Timothy Ellis

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and events are fictional and have no relationship to any real person, place or event. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely co-incidental.

  The author has taken the liberty of using some recognizable names in a historical context or projected into the future as if such entities survive into the timeframe of this work of fiction. Such references are intended solely as a tribute to the entity so used and all such usage has an intended deep respect. The author has also deliberately chosen names for characters in tribute to the science fiction genre in all forms of media. Some may be obvious, others will not be. There is no implied connection, other than what the reader may make for themselves.

  The author is Australian and the main characters in this book are of Australian origin. In Australia, we colour things slightly differently, so you may notice some of the spelling is different. Please do not be alarmed. If you do suffer any discomfort, please take it out on the nearest pirate.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contents

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Twenty Four

  Twenty Five

  Twenty Six

  Twenty Seven

  Twenty Eight

  Twenty Nine

  Thirty

  Acknowledgements

  A Message to my Readers

  By Timothy Ellis

  One

  The bulkhead rushed at me.

  For a few seconds I was floating. An idle thought popped in, telling me bulkheads were not supposed to rush at people. But it was, and it smashed into me. Or more correctly, I smashed into it.

  My left side was suddenly on fire from the impact, and I bounced away, arching slowly over backwards with a twisting motion, uncontrollably in free fall, gravity generators obviously having failed.

  Gravity reasserted itself as they came back on again, and I fell to the deck. Awareness fled for a short time. I groaned as my eyes opened once more.

  The health monitor on my PC had gone primary, and was flashing red all along my left side. I accepted the recommendation for pain relief. I immediately felt better, although there should have been an end to pain, not just a lessening.

  The PC display fritzed. This was not good, and meant head damage. The display still showed the left side of my head as red, where the left side of my body was now orange.

  It was difficult to think. I lay there for a bit longer.

  The voice I listened to said, "Get. Up. Now."

  I got up. Or rather I tried to. A sitting position was all I could manage. I forced myself to think. The PC continued to fritz every thirty seconds or so, which was distracting, and a really bad sign.

  What hit us? I accessed ship systems, and brought up the ship health display. The entire cockpit area showed red. There were various colours dotted around the ship's hull showing other damage, but the cockpit had taken the brunt of whatever it was. The cockpit?

  "Uncle," I screamed.

  Fear motivated me onto my feet, and I rushed to the cockpit hatch. It refused to open. The status indicator showed no air on the other side. I zoomed in on the hull display, and to my shock, saw the entire cockpit was destroyed. What could do that?

  "Logs," said the voice.

  I accessed the ship logs.

  "Missile hit to forward hull," it said, with a date and time stamp. Missile? Who would shoot at us?

  Shoot. The word echoed through my thoughts for a moment. My brain hurt. I desperately needed to lie down. My vision was blurred by now, and my head hurt worse than the migraine I'd had the year before, just before my exams. I eased myself into the nearest chair.

  Shoot. Who?

  Why?

  Where?

  Now?

  I suddenly came fully awake. Someone had shot a missile at us. It had badly damaged the ship. My Uncle was most likely dead. I was next.

  I brought up the external sensors, and looked at what was around us. We were still very close to the jump point, but were not alone. Not far off, what looked like a Military Transport was drifting without power. Further away was wreckage, as if a ship had exploded. Movement caught my eye.

  I centered the sensors on the moving ship, and changed to direct sight, since it was within visual range. I triggered the ID search, and it was identified as a Gladiator Heavy Privateer. The specs showed it to be a long range heavy fighter, with cargo capacity. Ideal for small time trading that could take care of itself in a fight. Apparently ideal as a raider, or pirate, as well. As I watched, it swung around towards the jump point.

  The jump point flared, and another ship came through. This was a medium transport. As I watched, the Gladiator fired three missiles at the newcomer. Each one hit the ship in the same place. The hull ruptured with the third hit. I aimed the sensors at the ship, and saw the cockpit was gone there too. The ship lost power, and began to drift.

  The Gladiator came to a stop, and extended two grav sleds, one each from her mid top section and mid bottom section. It started to move closer to the new arrival.

  I got a grip on myself. What was happening was obvious. The ship intended salvaging the damaged ships. Prisoners? I didn't think so. When you aim deliberately at where the crew is most likely to be, you don't care about prisoners.

  So, I wasn't going to be a prisoner. That would make me dead. Not a nice thought. What to do about it?

  I was suddenly glad that before we left, Uncle had given me full access to all systems, and had run through how they worked. The main cockpit controls were gone, and all I had left was what I could access using my PC. Fortunately, my PC, while not an advanced one, could access all ship systems, and give me holographic controls if I needed them.

  Alternatives? I began checking systems. Engines were good. I could move the ship. Life support was good. I wasn't going to die gasping any time soon. Thrusters were damaged around the front area near the bridge, but were functional. The ship could move, but it wasn't fast enough to escape a heavy fighter.

  The Wanderer had guns. Not very good ones, but she could fight, in a fashion. But that was a heavy fighter out there.

  Reminded, I checked on what it was doing. It had the freighter almost lined up with the top sled. I still had some time to act, but I needed to get on with it if I was going to.

  I brought up the holographic combat systems. The guns were not active, so I deselected them. Next to the gun control was the missile launcher control. Wanderer carried a twenty shot missile launcher in the front end. Like the rest of the ship, it was old and limited. However, the missiles themselves were new.

  I selected the launcher, but did not allow it to go live. The missile program selector
popped up. Options appeared. Dumb fire, heat seeker, or image recognition? I'd never fired a live missile before, so dumb fire, which required very good aim, was out of the question. I knew how to aim, but I couldn't trust it right now with a fritzing PC.

  Heat seekers would take out the target's engines, but would still leave it capable of striking back. I needed a decisive blow. I selected image recognition. Another pop up asked for the primary target. I left it alone, so as not to announce my intentions to the pilot of the Gladiator, and switched to secondary targeting. Ship systems popped up as potential targets. Engines, guns, missile launcher, cargo bay. Cockpit? Yes I thought. That would be appropriate. Why no cockpit option? I selected Override, and manually entered cockpit. It asked me to verify I wished to target the cockpit. Yes dammit, get on with it. Target selected, but not locked.

  The medium transport was attached to the upper grav sled now. The Gladiator moved towards the Military Transport.

  I checked on what the Wanderer was doing. We'd come through the jump point slowly, so without engines, we had a slight drift, and due to the missile hit, there was also a slow roll at an odd angle. I started to calculate if the ship would roll into a good firing position. Everything went black for a bit before I jerked upright. Quick check, and yes I'd lost a couple of minutes. The Military Transport was almost in position on the bottom sled.

  I checked Wanderer's roll again. Some luck at last. The ship had rolled right around, and was very close to being front on to the Gladiator. As I watched, the transport attached to the sled, and the Gladiator moved to come towards us.

  We rolled on, the Gladiator became head on. I selected the Gladiator as primary target, and set the missile launch system to live.

  The Gladiator reacted immediately, speeding up, and starting to turn, but sluggishly since it now had both ships in tow. I sent three missiles towards it as fast as they could launch, and sat there, watching.

  The first missile hit the shields and exploded. As did the second. The third punched through, and burst against the cockpit windows. There was a sharp flash as the air inside ignited for a brief moment, the Gladiator engines shut down, and she began drifting.

  A coms channel opened.

  "Nice shooting," said a voice. "Any chance you can tow us to the station? We don't have a lot of life support left over here."

  The voice was identified as having come from the Military Transport.

  A second channel opened.

  "We could also use a tow," said a different voice. "Our engines are fine, but we no longer have a pilot."

  This came from the medium freighter.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. Thinking was becoming very difficult. A voice I didn't recognize as mine, started talking.

  "Yes, I have engine control, and steering. Hold on while I sort out how."

  Two sets of "thank you" followed.

  The fritzing of my PC was down to fifteen seconds apart, and made doing anything very difficult. My head felt like it was exploding. People depended on me. As much as I wanted to sleep, now was not a good time. I made an effort to stay awake.

  Question. How do I take two ships in tow with one grav sled? The Gladiator still had them secured. How could I get them off it, and tow them both? Did I need to? I checked for life signs on the Gladiator. None. Good, the pilot wouldn't be complaining if I borrowed what was left of his ship. And with the two ships I needed to tow already being towed, all I had to do was tow the Gladiator. It made things easier. Or would do, if only my head didn't hurt so much.

  The ship's out of date AI, was offline. Selecting online actually worked. I told the AI to stop all movement, followed by an instruction to orient the ship ready to take the Gladiator in tow.

  I'd never towed anything before. I hunted around for towing commands, and found the one which extended the grav sled, located under the ship. It slid out as it was supposed to do. I gave the AI instructions to bring the ship into position so the grav sled could grab the Gladiator. This took a few minutes, but at last, the Gladiator was in range of the sled's gravity generator, and there was a clunking feel through the ship as the sled took the Gladiator in tow.

  Navigation. Thinking was becoming impossible. I told the AI to plot a course to Sydney station, as fast as was possible with the weight we were towing. Slowly, we moved off, and began to speed up.

  I'd been told by Uncle that after the jump, Sydney station would be about an hour away. I checked our eta, and it showed one hour, fifteen minutes. I opened a com channel to the other ships, and informed them. The Military Transport was not happy, since they would be on suit air by then, but at least they should make it.

  I had the irresistible urge to lie down, and did so. The health monitor was now blinking red around my head, showing the urgency with which I needed medical help. I turned off the display, since there was nothing I could do, and it was distracting me.

  A coms channel opened. I jerked awake again. I hadn't planned on falling asleep, but I had. Eta was down to ten minutes.

  "Sydney Station to vessel identified as Wanderer. Please state your intentions."

  "Sydney station, this is Wanderer. We were attacked by a Gladiator fighter at the Nexus 618 jump point. I declare an emergency. My ship is damaged. I disabled the Gladiator, and have taken it and two other vessels in tow. One of these has life support failure, and requires immediate assistance. Request tugs for them both. I am able to land myself, but not with ships in tow."

  "Understood Wanderer. Come to rest ten thousand meters off the station, and wait for assistance."

  "Will do Sydney station."

  I sighed with relief, and gave the instruction to the AI. I called up an external view, and watched as the station grew larger.

  As we came to a stop, another com channel opened.

  "Tug Fifteen to Wanderer. Please disengage your grav sled."

  I turned off the sled's gravity generator, and watched as the tug took control of the Gladiator, and drew it away. Four ships joined together turned, and headed towards the station.

  "Sydney station to Wanderer. Please follow the landing beacon to internal docking bay twelve."

  "Thank you Sydney station," I replied. "Moving to docking bay twelve now."

  This was something I could do. I'd practiced station landings on the simulator at home.

  I activated navigation controls, and rotated the ship to follow the landing beacon at station docking speed. A short time later we were entering the landing bay itself, the landing struts went down, and I gently set the ship down on the landing pad. The bay sealed behind the ship. Air and heat flowed into the bay.

  I dragged myself to the airlock. When the outside showed as being fully aired up, I stepped into the airlock, and cycled through to the outside. It was still cold, and I started to limp down the stairs.

  "Hey, it's just a kid," I heard from somewhere close by.

  Third step from the bottom, I tripped, and fell off the stairs.

  Two

  I was sitting in my command chair, in space.

  No ship, no life support, no nothing.

  Just me, in my chair, in space.

  Space around me was not familiar.

  As I looked around I saw no planets.

  There were many asteroid fields.

  In the distance, two gas giants.

  A movement in front of me caught my eye.

  A black dot had appeared at long range.

  As I watched, another dot appeared.

  Then another.

  Then ten, a hundred, a thousand.

  Space in front of me turned black.

  I bolted upright in bed. It was the same dream I'd been having for years. The same one which followed every stressful event in my life. The Keepers back home said it was part of Prophesy, but would not explain it to me. Whatever was happening in the dream always left me terrified, and I'd never figured out why.

  For a few seconds I sat there, heart racing.

  White. White room, white bed, white?
<
br />   "Easy there," said a voice. "No sudden movements in your condition."

  I turned towards the voice, and saw more white. I shook my head in dismay, and immediately regretted it.

  "You're in the Sydney Station medical facility. Let's have you lying down again please."

  "Hospital?" I said.

  "Yes. Lie still. You're not fully healed yet."

  "Uncle?" I asked.

  "He was killed instantly. I'm sorry."

  Tears filled my eyes.

  "How long have I been here?"

  "Five days," came the reply.

  Shock upped the tear flow. I'd known that Uncle was probably dead, but being told it so emphatically made me face what I'd been able to put aside on the ship.

  But five days? The window for returning home was closed. I was stuck here, and alone. What was I going to do?

  Grief and loneliness turned me over on to my left side, and buried my face into the pillow to hide the tears. I groaned, and rapidly turned back over, and onto my right side. I mashed my face into the pillow, and let the tears flow. I was sixteen, my only accessible relative was dead, and I was one year away from seeing anyone else I knew. I cried myself to sleep.

  I came to more normally, sliding up from the black of sleep into the light of awake. The room came into focus around me. It was mainly all white, but not completely. I sat up slowly, expecting pain, and felt very little. My head was clear.

  My head was too clear. There was no computer display at all. What had happened to my PC?

  "Ah good, you're awake at last," came the voice I'd heard previously. "How do you feel?"

  "Better," I said. "Where's my PC?"

  "You had major head trauma, so they had to take it out. Don't worry. They'll give you a new one as soon as you're ready. The doctor will be by soon, and he'll tell you about it. Ready for some breakfast?"

  "Yes please. What have you got?"

  "Muesli."

  I hated muesli. Of all the things which had to endure since its invention some six hundred years earlier, muesli had to be one of the least expected, and for me, the least liked of them all. In fact, it wasn't just muesli, I hated breakfast.