Hunter Legacy 5 Hail the Hero (22 page)

The Marshall’s Gig arrived at one thirty to
take us all down to the Palace. I’d had to tell them all my story, and had
heard all of theirs.

I asked why everyone was going, and was
told there was a dinner in the evening, but only the one shuttle being
provided. It didn’t sound right to me, but I held my tongue. Jane was along as
well I noticed, but I assumed she was my actual bodyguard while away from the
ship.

We landed on the roof, and I scooted down
the stairs at the head of group. Marshall Bigglesworth met us at the bottom.

“Dress Uniforms please,” he said.

Everyone shifted their suits except me. I
looked at him for a good thirty seconds, and he stared me down.

“Oh no,” I said. “Not again.
No more medals.”

“Jon,” he said, “I promise
you’re not getting another medal. Dress uniform please.”

I sighed. Something was up, but I wasn’t
going to get a straight answer out here.

I shifted to Hunter Dress, since I didn’t
have a British Dress uniform. Bigglesworth didn’t comment, even though he would
have known I should’ve been in British Dress. Technically, I was still an
active British Admiral.

He led us in. The center section of the ceremony
room was laid out with chairs, all empty and waiting for us. The left and right
sections were already full of people. General’s Harriman and Price were in the
front row of the right section, as was Admiral Bentley. Presumably her fleet
was in orbit now. The rest of the row were all Generals and Admirals as well,
but I knew none of them.

My seat was in the center of the front row.
I stepped off my scooter, and sat, left leg only slightly bent, and positioned
comfortably in front of me. Jane took the scooter to a corner of the room, came
back, and sat next to me. Annabelle was on my other side, with the others
positioned by rank.

On the dot of two, a functionary announced
the Queen, and we all stood, while she entered, and sat when bid. Rising and
sitting were both awkward for me, but I managed.

“Admiral Hunter please,” said
Bigglesworth from his place beside the Queen. “Front and center.”

I glared at him, feeling betrayed. Both he
and the Queen were keeping their faces straight, but their eyes were gleaming.

I hauled myself out of the chair once
again, and hobbled over to stand before them. Bracing to attention wasn’t an
option.

“Admiral,” said Bigglesworth,
“if you need your scooter or a chair, please let Colonel Jane know, and
she’ll bring it to you.”

I nodded.

“Nice to see you on your feet
Jon,” Queen Liz whispered to me. “You look a lot better than when I
last saw you.”

I nodded again, not game to say anything.

“Admiral Hunter,” she said in her
Queen’s voice. “You placed your life and assets on the line, in defense of
the Monarchy and me personally, without being asked or ordered to. Your people
have been thanked by a grateful Queen, planet, and sector. We are in your debt.
How may we reward you?”

For a moment I thought it was just a
rhetorical question, but she stood there waiting for an answer.

“Release me from service, so I can go
home,” I said.

“Done,” she said. “Admiral
Hunter, you are placed on the inactive list, effective immediately. However
this is not enough. Can you kneel?”

“Kneel?” I parroted, feeling
confused.

“Kneel,” she repeated.

Totally at a loss to understand why, I made
an effort to go down on my right knee, trying to keep my left leg extended behind
me so it wasn’t bent too much. I couldn’t hold it, and had to bend the left
knee half as much as the right to keep from falling over. I wobbled, trying
desperately to keep some balance, and had to place my right hand on the floor
in front of me to stay upright. My left leg complained about its treatment, but
didn’t feel to be taking damage.

I raised my head as much as I could to see
in front, but I could no longer see the Queen’s face.

There was the noise of metal scraping on
metal.

“Jonathon Hunter,” she said,
“I appoint you Knight Commander of the Order of the British Sector.”

Metal touched me on each shoulder, and I
saw the end of a very old sword flash though my limited vision range.

Shock took my thoughts away. I desperately
wanted to wake up now, as surely this was a bad dream having a go at me.

“You may rise Knight Commander,”
said Bigglesworth.

I struggled to get up, but found I
couldn’t. I pinged Bigglesworth for help. He reached a hand down and pulled me
to my feet.

I swayed precariously for a moment, but
found some balance. He stepped back and left me standing there.

My eyes opened wide as I saw not a medal,
but what could only be called regalia, passed to the Queen, who seemed to cover
me in it.

I looked at her, my eyes pleading for this
to be over. She grinned at me for just a second, and it was gone behind her
Queen-on-duty face.

“Sir Jonathon Hunter, we have one
other presentation to make. The Dukedom of Norfolk is vacant, due to the
unfortunate circumstances of the past few days. A family line which has
faithfully served the Crown for hundreds of years, is ended by murder,
treachery, and treason. As you have demonstrated all the traits needed to
warrant your selection, we appoint you Duke of Norfolk. Congratulations.”

Shock became poleaxed shock. I stood there,
unable to move, unable to think, while more regalia was put on me, and the
Queen handed me a plaque of patent. She held out her hand, and I reluctantly
shook it.

“I present to you,” she said to
the room in her Queen’s voice, “His Grace, Sir Jonathon Hunter, Duke of
Norfolk.”

The room went crazy around me.

“So, how does this work?” I asked
a short time later, sitting in the Queen’s sitting room.

“How does what work?” she asked
in return, apparently playing dumb.

“This Duke thing?”

Those present laughed. The Queen looked
towards one of her aides.

“A Dukedom is more of a ceremonial
appointment than anything,” the aide said. “In the old days, a Duke
was Lord of a Duchy, and ruled it as a vassal of the Crown. He taxed those who
lived within the borders, and in turn paid tax to the State. As the Monarchy
lost its powers, so did the Dukes. Most of them don’t have estates attached
now. They represent the Crown for a specific area of influence, as do all
titled Lords and Ladies. When the British sector was established, most of the
Dukedoms were assigned planets of the same name. So the Duke of Norfolk, your
good self, is the highest ranking Noble for the planet Norfolk.”

“What duties are involved? I hadn’t
planned on coming back anytime soon. So I’d rather not have duties requiring me
here much, if at all.”

“The Dukes advise the Crown about
issues to do with their Dukedoms. They play a ceremonial role in the local
parliaments. The Duke of Norfolk has always played a role on London as well. We
see no problems associated with your not being here. There are other Dukes who
will be delighted to take on the roles you aren’t
here to perform. And on Norfolk, duties can be delegated to the
local Earls, who’ll also be delighted.”

“Sounds like it wasn’t a good decision
to appoint me.”

“The appointment,” said the
Queen, “was my decision, and my choice. It has some downsides, but
ultimately, the Crown needs loyalty and reliability close to it at the moment.
I trust you. So do many others now. You’ll be called on periodically, but not
for everyday matters which can be handled just as well by others.”

“You will be sent information about
your role in the British sector,” added the aide, “once it’s been
finalized.”

I nodded.

“Besides Jon,” said the Queen,
“you have title to systems now, and you need to consider how you run them.
There are plenty of corporate owned systems, some even owned by individuals,
but no-one else owns more than one. And all of them owe allegiance to a sector.
Your space is unique. You’re already a Duke. If you call your space a Duchy,
and run it as such, you’ll find yourself accepted far more readily than as
someone setting themselves up as a King, or some sort of Despot. Think about
it.”

“I will. It’s all a complete shock to
me.”

“I know. We anticipated that. It’s who
you are.”

I waved away what I assumed was a
compliment.

“Your Battleship will be completed in
the morning Admiral,” said Marshall Bigglesworth. “I think you’ll
find your new title works in your favour as far as calming the fears of those
who don’t like seeing real power in the hands of an unknown individual. Mercenaries
were the way things went for good reasons at the time, but no-one really likes
seeing a Mercenary company capable of being able to hold a planet for ransom,
for example. It’s how pirates began. Mercenary companies becoming too powerful.
If you set up a Duchy, having your own defense force is expected. But a
powerful fleet in the hands of an individual, is something to make politicians
nervous. Especially having a battle fleet. No-one can fault how you came by
your fleet, but everyone will be happy when it has a defensive purpose, and constraints
in place.”

“To that end Your Grace,” said
someone new, “we have documents here for you to consider.”

“What sort?” I asked.

“Non-aggression pact, and Alliance.
Obviously these cannot be signed until your space has a structure, and a
name.”

I looked at him for a moment, wondering
what I’d dropped into now. Diplomacy wasn’t my strong suit. It was looking like
I’d need to have a crash course in it. Or find a good diplomat to hire.

“Thank you, I’ll look at them on the
trip home.”

“I’ll pulse them to your aide. Once
you agree to terms, we can arrange a signing ceremony at a convenient time and
place.”

“Does the ceremony need to be
here?” I asked.

“No Jon,” said the Queen.
“We seek Alliance with you, so you can specify where the signing takes
place.”

“No doubt the Australian sector and
Sci-Fi sector will also wish the same Alliances,” said the official who’d
first mentioned them.

“Hmmm. Perhaps we could use my new
station once its upgrade has been completed. That will be several months from
now, so it gives time for due consideration. I’ll think about it and let you
know.”

“We look forward to it Jon,” said
Queen Liz. She looked around the room. “Now, if you’ll all excuse us
please.”

The room emptied, leaving us alone.

“Now Jon, follow me. Afternoon tea
awaits us on my private balcony.”

She led me upstairs and around into her
private apartment. I scooted behind her through an ornate sitting room to, as
she’d said, a balcony, overlooking a private garden. Here were two very
comfortable chairs, with a small table between them. We sat, and a functionary
offered us tea, and various kinds of cakes.

I hadn’t had tea in years. In fact, I
remember giving it up as a young teenager, when I figured out the reason I put
so much sugar in it, was I didn’t really like the stuff. However, it wouldn’t
be very diplomatic to refuse tea with the Queen. So I loaded in the sugar, and
found the blend to be very enjoyable. The Brits really did know about tea. I’d
have to think about importing some of the better blends.

We said nothing for a while, while
functionaries fussed around us. After a while, she went blank as if receiving a
ping, after which she waved them away, and we were left alone.

“I have two personal gifts for you
Jon, a way of saying thank you for my life.”

She held up her hand to silence me before I
could say anything.

“First of all, you sent me a belt
which saved me first from injury when we were attacked, and then kept me alive
when my own foolishness deprived us of air to breath. You prevented me from
being taken, forced to disband the nobility, and abdicate. You kept me alive at
serious risk to your own, even though you were barely able to take care of
yourself. I owe you Jon.”

I opened my mouth to say she didn’t. But
she held her finger to my lips to silence me.

“I do Jon. Stop being so selfless all
the time. Anyway, my first gift to you is this.”

She threw a feed to the wall behind us. I
saw a shipyard, where the airlock doors were opening slowly. Once fully open, a
ship emerged. It looked familiar.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m giving
you a new Gunbus. All your things from the old one which could be salvaged,
have been put aboard. Including your kitten’s things, and the two figures on
the control panel. It also has a set of butler droids, and two top of the line
combat suits. By the way, before you go, I want to meet your kitten.”

“As you command,” I said with a
grin on my face.

“Really?” she said with a grin.
“Then follow me.”

She led me back through the sitting room,
hobbling not scooting, and into what must be her own bed chamber. It was so
large, you couldn’t call it a bed room.

“So,” she said with an impish
expression. “Your second gift, is me!”

My jaw dropped. She pushed me down into a
chair, and proceeded to do a very sexy strip tease for me. I cancelled my
arousal override. My suit changed shape slightly to compensate.

When she stood naked in front of me, she
pulled me out of the chair, and kissed me full on the mouth, her breasts pushed
against my chest. The kiss lasted until we both gasped for air.

“Now Your Grace, let me see how that
suit comes off.”

One does not say no to a Queen.