Free Hunter Legacy 5 Hail the Hero by Timothy Ellis Page B

and
Dallas to get them now. Let’s be moving. It won’t hurt to be early, and will
save our aides fussing over getting us there on time.”
    “When should the ceremony be finished
by, Chet?”
    “Ten thirty at the latest.”
    “Good.”
    He chuckled, and set me off again.
    I pinged Annabelle to assemble everyone in
the Rec Room at eleven.
    Chet rose, and we both limped out, Jane
following.

Twelve

    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