Tales of the High Avenging Angel #1-3: Tales of the High Avenging Angel, #1

Also by Dietmar Arthur Wehr

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The X-ray Mission

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The Phoenix Empire Series Vol. 1-4

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Tales of the High Avenging Angel

Tales of the High Avenging Angel #1-3

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The Synchronicity War Part 2

The Synchronicity War Part 3

The Synchronicity War Part 4

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Synchronicity War Redemption Vol. 2

The Synchronicity War Omnibus

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Rumors of Glory

Rumors of Honor

Rumors of Salvation

Thunder In The Heavens

The Thunder of War

The Complete Thunder Series

The Thunder of Vengeance

Standalone

The Retro War

Empire in Crisis

The Last Valkyrie

The Hunt for Seawolf 4

The System States Rebellion

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Watch for more at Dietmar Arthur Wehr’s site.

Tales of the High Avenging Angel

#1-3

By Dietmar Arthur Wehr

Copyright 2018 Non-Linear Visions, Inc.

www.dwehrsfwriter.com

Contents

The Tattooed Angel

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Angelfire

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

Nirvana’s Angel Part 1

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Nirvana’s Angel Part 2

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

The Tattooed Angel

Chapter One:

Hoch Racheengel closed his eyes and tried to ignore the gnawing hunger that was slowly becoming unbearable. He knew that trying to sleep in a corner of the cold access ramp wasn’t all that great an idea, but at least there was less likelihood of him being deliberately kicked by passing members of the families who owned this station. They didn’t like beggars on their station. It made the place look run down and seedy, which in fact it was, but not in their minds. He would have left by now if the mercenary outfit that had dumped him here had paid him what they owed him. Instead he was forced to beg from strangers who more often than not ignored him or told him to fuck off. While he was trying to decide which part of the station was likely to get the most pedestrian traffic so that he could move there, he heard the sound of footsteps coming closer. Opening his eyes, he saw walking towards him a tall, slim woman wearing a slate grey one-piece coverall and red boots. She had very short white hair and wore leopard skin gloves. He also noticed that she had a hand weapon of some kind tucked into a holster that was part of her coverall.

She stopped about a meter away from him and said, You look like you could use some help.

He cleared his throat and said, I, ah, haven’t eaten in the last 24 hours, so if you can spare a few station credits... As he spoke, he was acutely aware that he hadn’t had a shower since being left on this station and that his smell might offend her.

I can do better than that. My ship just docked, and I have to take care of some things with Station Admin, but I’ll be back here in a few minutes. If you follow me to my ship, I’ll give you a hot meal. How’s that?

That would be very kind of you. I’ll be here when you return.

She gave him a quick nod and continued on past him.

He wasn’t sure how long she was gone, but she did come back. As he got unsteadily to his feet, he realized just how weak he was. It was a humiliating experience. When they got to her ship, she led him straight to the Galley and told him to sit at the small table. She took out two dehydrated meals and busied herself with preparing them. Within a few minutes both of them were eating. Hoch tried not to not make a pig of himself, but damn the food tasted good!

When he was finished, he took another drink of water, leaned back and said, Thank you so much, ah...I don’t even know your name.

She smiled. You’re welcome and the name is Sara. She took another sip of her water and Hoch took a good look at the tattoo on the back of her hand. It was an angel with outstretched wings. He had never seen a tattoo quite like that before.

Excuse me for saying so, but you look like you haven’t slept for a long time too, she said.

Well, there aren’t a lot of places on this station where a person can sleep without getting stepped on, kicked or yelled at, so whatever sleep I’ve managed to get has not been very long or comfortable. I, ah, guess you’ll be wanting me to go on my way now, right?

Not necessarily. It depends on whether you’re willing to accept some conditions. I’m not in any hurry to leave this station just yet. I’d be prepared to let you use one of the empty cabins for one night’s sleep. You can take a shower, get your clothes cleaned and sleep in a comfortable bed on condition that your cabin will be locked from the outside. I won’t risk letting you have the run of the ship while I’m sleeping. In the morning, I’ll let you out, feed you breakfast, and then it’ll be time to leave, okay?

For a few seconds, Hoch was at a loss for words. Her offer was more than generous. Oh, absolutely, yes. I’d insist on the same precaution if I was in your position.

She laughed. Good! Then follow me. She led him to a cabin that clearly wasn’t being used. It was small, but it had its own hygienic facilities including a shower. She pointed to a chair near the door. If you leave your clothes on the chair, I’ll take them to the laundry unit while you shower, and you’ll get them back in the morning. He thanked her again, and as she slid the door shut, he heard the lock engage. He stood there staring at the door for a few seconds, wondering how he had gotten so lucky, then started to take his clothes off. Thank God she was willing to clean his clothes before he left her ship. As much as a hot shower would feel great, he would have hated having to put his smelly clothes on again afterwards.

The shower was hot and felt even better than he had thought it would. He felt guilty about how long he stayed in it, but finally he shut it off. When he was finished being blown dry, he stepped out into the cabin and saw that his clothes had been taken away. There was no point in sitting around naked, and he certainly was tired, so he climbed into the single bunk bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

When he woke up, he found a note on top of his clothes, which were neatly piled on the chair.

Come to the galley when you’re dressed. You’ll find breakfast waiting

He complied with the note’s instructions and arrived to find not only that there was breakfast waiting for him, but that it was still hot. No sooner had he sat down and taken a sip of the coffee than Sara came in from what he assumed was the ship’s flight deck.

Good morning. Ah, I just realized I don’t know your name either, she said with smile.

He smiled back and realized that he was in a good mood, a state he had not been in for quite some time. The name’s Hoch Racheengel. How long did I sleep for?

She stepped over to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. Almost ten hours. If I’m not mistaken, Racheengel is a German name. Let me see if I remember what it means. She stared off into infinity while he continued eating. Okay, I remember now. It means ‘avenging angel’, right?

Hock chuckled. Yeah, and that’s about all the German I know. My great-grandfather emigrated to California back when it was still part of the US.

And how do you spell your first name?

He told her.

That’s very interesting. I wasn’t sure by the way you pronounced it, but H-O-C-H in German means ‘high’, so you are the High Avenging Angel. That’s a name with a lot of karmic power, did you know that?

No, I didn’t. He tried changing the subject. I notice you’re not eating. Have you already had breakfast?

Yup. Couple of hours ago in fact. I’m just finalizing some cargo purchases, and when they arrive, I’ll be pulling out. But there’s still plenty of time for you to finish eating.

It didn’t take him long to finish the food and the coffee. He felt surprisingly good, both physically and mentally. As he put down his now empty cup, he cleared his throat and said, Time for me to go?

She nodded. Afraid so. Her voice was firm but not unfriendly.

He got up reluctantly. In the back of his mind was the hope that she would let him stay longer, but the rational part of him knew that he should be grateful for what she had done for him so far, and he said so as he walked in the direction of the docking hatch. She followed him, and as he turned to offer his hand, he saw that she was holding a data chip. Instead of shaking his hand, she handed him the data chip.

What’s this?

It’s a confirmed passenger voucher for the next flight back to Earth. That ship arrived while you were sleeping, and she’ll be leaving in a few hours. He was stunned. So far he had only cost her the price of a couple of meals, but paid passage to Earth was not cheap. He was so profoundly moved by her generosity that he almost handed it back, but decided at the last moment to hold on to it.

Why would you spend that much for a complete stranger? he asked in a voice that almost betrayed the emotion he was feeling.

"Well, first of all, you’re not a complete stranger, because I now know your name. And secondly, I made a pretty nice profit here. When that happens, I like to spread some of it around; it’s a karmic thing. It just feels like the right thing to do, Hoch. And who knows, maybe some day you’ll be in a position to do something for me. Good luck to you," she said as she patted him on the shoulder.

He looked at the data chip and nodded as he stepped onto the access ramp and began walking away. After a few steps, he turned around to wave, but the hatch door was already sliding shut. It was then that he realized he hadn’t thanked her for the voucher and that bothered him.

Good luck to you too, Sara, he said softly.

It was eight weeks later that the luck he’d thought had run out turned around again. He’d been back on Earth for most of that time and hadn’t found any long term employment. His training as a starship pilot meant that he was considered employable and therefore did not qualify for financial assistance from the government, but his conviction for theft that got him booted out of the Space Force was the kind of red flag that private sector shipping companies avoided like the plague. Mercenary outfits weren’t so fussy; apparently his last employer had badmouthed him to the other outfits because they weren’t showing the least bit of interest either. But now, apparently, someone was interested, and he was heading to an interview to be conducted in the lounge of one of the city’s fancier hotels. When he entered the room, two men sitting at a table waved him over.

As he reached the table, he heard one of them say. Have a seat, Racheengel. This won’t take long. I’m not going to introduce myself or my colleague, because our names don’t matter. What does matter is that we work for Universal Red Shift. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s one of the larger interstellar conglomerates out there.

Hoch nodded. He had heard of URS. Who hadn’t? Yes, I’ve heard of URS. You’re looking for a pilot for one of your starfreighters?

It was the other man who responded. Not exactly. We contacted you because the woman who currently has control of the URS Board of Directors, Lauren Miranda Evelyn Fontaine, has...or rather, had, a grand-daughter who was working on building her own fortune with a small one-man starfreighter. She’s now dead due to having run across some pirates. Mistress Fontaine is adamant that her grand-daughter’s killers be found and brought to justice, and she’s also convinced that Space Force will not accomplish that goal. Therefore she wants to hire someone with previous Space Force experience to pilot a small company ship and essentially snoop around in the sector of space where her grand-daughter was killed in the hopes of finding clues that will lead to the killers. We’ve told her how unlikely it would be that anyone could discover anything useful, but she’s insisting on going ahead. We heard that you’ve been looking for work for a while, so here’s your chance to make some good money for as long as you can manage to string her along. We don’t really care about the cost. Believe me when I say that URS can afford this. All you have to do is go through the motions of trying to make a profit from trading goods between stations. You don’t even have to try to find any leads. Make up something that looks like you’re asking questions. After a while, she’ll get discouraged and call the whole thing off. You’ll have a healthy credit balance, and if there are no problems during that time, we’ll see about finding a slot for you on one of our larger ships as soon as one becomes available.

That sounded good to Hoch, too good if he was honest with himself. There had to be a catch somewhere.

That sounds great, but I can’t help wondering why you want me, considering my less than perfect military record.

The first guy to speak, who Hoch decided was the senior of the two, shrugged and leaned forward. We know about your court-martial. It’s very simple. Ex-Space Force who have clean records don’t have any trouble finding work. They also tend to be diligent about fulfilling the terms of their contracts and might actually try to find the killers. We need someone who’s not that fussy.

That brings me to my next question. Why don’t you want the killers found?

The senior guy sighed. I’ll tell you, but take a bit of advice first and don’t ask too many questions. Mistress Fontaine—by the way, that’s how she wants to be addressed—has a very tenuous controlling interest in URS. It’s enough to let her put a majority of her people on the Board. But she doesn’t own all the shares that she currently controls, and if you did find the killers, Space Force would get involved. There’d be court trials; you’d be called to testify; we probably would be called to testify. And if the defense lawyers are any good, they might ask questions that my friend and I would prefer not to have to answer, because those answers might cause some people, who are currently supporting Mistress Fontaine, to withdraw that support, and she would lose control. We’ve tried to explain that to her, but she doesn’t care. If she loses control, she won’t be the only one who suffers negative consequences. You get my drift?

Hoch nodded. He did indeed get the point. These two executives had hitched their corporate stars to Mistress Fontaine, and they did not want to risk going down with her.

Okay, I understand all that, but what if my military record comes to her attention?

No problem, said the senior guy without hesitation. We’ve already figured out what to do. Here’s what you say if she asks you about it. You discovered that one of your subordinates, who happens to be the nephew of a highly placed admiral, had stolen the items in question. As a favor to the admiral, you tried to cover up the theft, but when Space Force Security started snooping around, the nephew panicked and told them that he had covered up YOUR theft and would testify against you if granted immunity. Mistress Fontaine has a low opinion of human nature, and she’ll believe that something like that could have happened to an other-wise honest Space Force officer. I hope there are no more questions.

Hoch actually did have one, but the tone of that last statement strongly hinted that he shouldn’t ask it. No more questions. I’ll take your offer. Now what?

The senior guy seemed to relax as he leaned back. Good. We’ll set up an interview with Mistress Fontaine in a few days. Here’s an advance on your salary. The other man pushed a credit chip across the table. "I strongly recommend you get a new set of clothes. Nothing flashy or fancy. In fact, something similar to what you’re wearing now would be okay. Just make sure it’s new and that it looks new. We don’t want her to think you’ve been living on the streets for the last few weeks. You’ll be contacted the same way as for this meeting, and we’ll tell you where and when to show up. In the meantime, lay low and don’t get into trouble. Without waiting for a reply, both men got up and left. Hoch took the chip and stared at it, wondering what the hell he had just gotten himself into. The explanation about losing control sounded legit, but he couldn’t help feeling that there was more to this that they were telling him.

The interview with Mistress Fontaine took place three days later. The two men picked him up and took him to the tallest building in the city. As they rode the high-speed elevator up to the penthouse level, he got his final briefing.

Let us do the talking, although if she asks you a direct question, go ahead and answer it, but don’t offer anything she hasn’t asked for. Remember to refer to her as Mistress Fontaine if you have to refer to her at all. She’ll be standing behind a transparent wall. She has this thing about contagious diseases. Remember your cover story about the theft. If she makes you an offer, just take it. Don’t start dickering over terms. If she gets the idea that you think she’s desperate to find someone, she’ll get angry, and that wouldn’t be good for us or you. Okay, here we go.

The elevator doors slid open, and Hoch followed the two men into a large, well-lit room that managed to be both impressive and comfortable at the same time. The left side had a transparent wall, behind which was a large office with a desk made from some semi-translucent material. Sitting behind that desk was a woman who got up and walked towards them with a very dignified stride. She wore a slate blue business suit that fitted her perfectly. Her hair was short and jet black. There was a complicated pattern of colored lines around each eye. Hoch assumed that was the latest cosmetic fashion. If he had to guess her age by her outward appearance only, he would have said mid to late 40’s, but if she had a grown grand-daughter, she had to be considerably older.

Mistress Fontaine, may I present to you ex-lieutenant Hoch Racheengel, said Alpha male with considerably more respect than when he had talked to Hoch.

Yes, you may, Franz. Welcome to my office, Lieutenant. What an interesting name you have. If I’m not mistaken, your name is German and translates as High Avenging Angel. How wonderfully appropriate under the circumstances. I take it you’ve been told that I want you to find my grand-daughter’s killers?

That’s correct, Mistress Fontaine, said Hoch.

Fontaine turned around and pointed at the wall behind her desk. It instantly lit up to show a photo of a naked woman lying on a metal floor with both hands tied behind her back. She was facing away from the camera, and Hoch could see that the back of her head was bloody. There was also obvious bruising on the arms and legs, especially the inner thighs. It was a disturbing image. He resisted the urge to look away. When Fontaine turned back to look at him, her eyes were no longer as friendly as they had been.

This is what they did to my grand-daughter, Lieutenant. I want you to take a good look. The image will change in a few seconds to show different angles. Her face is unrecognizable from the bruising and blood, but I made sure of the body’s identity with DNA analysis. I want the animals that did this found and brought to justice. If you can find them or even just tell me who Space Force should be looking for, your monetary reward will be considerable. She paused to gauge his reaction. He tried to keep his face expressionless. I have been given to understand that you were convicted of theft by a Space Force court-martial. I’d be interested to hear your side of that story, Lieutenant.

Hoch repeated the version that Alpha had given him. He thought he saw her nod very slightly.

Clearly you were in a difficult position. If you had turned in the admiral’s nephew, the admiral might have exerted a negative influence on your career. Tell me, Lieutenant, during your time in Space Force, did you ever have the opportunity to catch any pirates?

A ship I was serving on did stop and arrest a ship of suspected pirates. I believe that they were eventually convicted.

Her expression softened a bit. Franz, what did you tell the Lieutenant with regards to compensation?

Alpha told her what he had told Hoch.

Oh, I think we can do better than that. While you’re hunting those animals, you’ll earn three times your military salary. If you can generate any trading profits, you’ll keep those too, and if you find useful information that leads to the killers, you’ll have a choice between a guaranteed lifetime employment as a starfreighter pilot or officer, or a very large lump sum bonus. Once you begin the mission, I’ll expect regular reports on where you go, how you conduct your search and what you find. Franz will give you the practical details of how to do that. Can I assume that you find these terms satisfactory, Lieutenant?

Quite satisfactory, Mistress Fontaine, said Hoch carefully.

Very good. In that case, I believe we are finished our business here today. She turned around and walked back to her desk. Alpha and his buddy turned and motioned for him to follow them. Just as Hoch was turning to do so, the image on the wall changed to another angle that was also closer, and something caught his attention. There was a tattoo of an angel with outstretched wings on the dead woman’s right hand, the same image he’d last seen on Sara’s hand.

Without even thinking about what he was about to do, he said, Was your grand-daughter’s name Sara?

Fontaine stopped, turned and gave Hoch a puzzled stare. Yes, it was. How did you know that, Lieutenant?

Hoch hesitated. He knew what he wanted to say and do, but a tiny voice in the back of his mind was telling him to make up some excuse and let it go. He told the voice to shut up.

May I speak with you in private, Mistress Fontaine? He saw in the transparent wall a reflection of the surprised reactions of Alpha and buddy. Fontaine’s gaze shifted from him to her two subordinates.

Well, well. It’s been a long time since a man has asked to be alone with me. I see that my assistants disapprove of the idea. Therefore, I’ll allow it. You two may wait for the Lieutenant down below.

As the elevator doors slid shut behind the two assistants, Fontaine said, Now then, please tell me how you knew my grand-daughter’s first name.

"I met your grand-daughter a few weeks ago on the Thule Station. She had just arrived and found me trying to sleep in the access ramp. I was stranded and completely broke to the point where I had to beg for a