The Last Praetorian (The Redemption Trilogy)

by Mike Smith

  With the ship becoming the lead news item on every network, Jason and his team leaked the first scrap of information, that the ship’s owner and registration had been identified. Hordes of investigative journalists were quick to investigate the company, which… did not exist. The shell company was owned by a parent company, which… did not exist. However, this had a shared ownership model, with a company that, did not exist…they kept digging.

  The next day, further leaks were reported. Jason and his team supplied all of these, anonymously, once again. It was reported that illegal weapons had also been found on the ship, speculated to belong to the same slavers who had taken the victims captive. A few serial numbers had been found, belonging to a company that did not exist... The Confederation Navy was incredulous, as it seemed that leaks were occurring before the investigative team had even found any evidence.

  The Galaxy News Network (GNN) were the first to report a breakthrough in the story when one of its investigative reporters had tied together the parent company of both the ship and the company that had purchased the arms found in the freighter. The ‘Chamber of Commerce, Business and Shipping,’ was an inter-system, logistics conglomerate, with offices in most major systems. Their data-net crashed, when it received 3.2 million hits within the space of twenty minutes after the broadcast. They refuted all knowledge of the ship, weapons or captives.

  Finally a small regional news syndicate announced the icing on the cake that it had managed to obtain actual footage of the rescue! As their data-net did not even last ten minutes before it crashed, it was jointly agreed that all the major news networks would broadcast the recording simultaneously (although GNN did start the broadcast a few minutes early, claiming that their chronometer was fast). Viewing figures for the footage set a new record, at it’s peak it was claimed that 1.2 billion confederation citizens tuned into the live data-net feed.

  The cinema on Terra Nova was reconfigured to show the live broadcast, however as this was unable to contain the entire crew complement, the engineering team piped the feed through all the station’s holoprojectors. However, pride of place at the front row was reserved for Gunny’s Marines and David’s security team that had carried out the operation.

  The broadcast commenced with the Eagle One docking at the Syndicate Station and the Marines restraining the stunned maintenance team. Gunny and the Marines rushing into the prisoners’ gaol, with Gunny shouting, “We’re the Marines, here to rescue you!” closely following this. Jon thought the background music swelling to a crescendo at this point was a particularly good touch.

  Gunny meanwhile had gone an interesting shade of pink. Leaning forward in his seat Jon patted the embarrassed Marine sergeant on the back. “You and your team did good Gunny, real good.” Meanwhile the Marines, always a riotous bunch, yelled out “Hu-Ra!”

  The scene then cut to a wide-angle shot of the Marines escorting the rescued families through the station, frequently encountering heavy resistance designed to stop the attempted rescue. All in all, Jon thought, it was an inspired piece of editing by Jason and his team. He would have been the first to nominate them for a New Hollywood award for editing and post-production. After all, the entire recording was complete fiction, having been edited to turn the entire order of events on its head to make it appear a rescue, when in actual fact it been a daring raid to obtain the computer core.

  Meanwhile the Marines had finally made it to the freighter and after ensuring all the rescued families were aboard the freighter departed the station, only to be warned by the recently arrived Syndicate reinforcements.

  “Unidentified ship – this station is private property belonging to the Chamber of Commerce, Business and Shipping. You are ordered to power down all systems and surrender, otherwise you will be destroyed”. Jon thought that bit of editing was a particularly good touch.

  Meanwhile what followed was a horrific attack on a vulnerable, defenceless freighter, full of starving families, women and children… That just so happened to appear invulnerable… and per-chance to completely obliterate any attackers!

  Straight after the broadcast of the recording it cut to a press conference that had been hastily convened on Transcendence by the Confederation Navy. The young, baby faced Navy spokesperson was categorically denying any Navy involvement in the incident. This was having the opposite effect of making the Navy seem even guiltier, as while the Marines had not worn any identifying insignia, they were obviously Marines, hell; they had even announced themselves as Marines! Even the Navy spokesperson seemed uncertain. After reading the prepared announcement, the spokesperson inquired if there were any questions, he seemed to be particularly dreading the questions…

  One proactive reporter was straight out the chair inquiring. “Can the Confederation Navy confirm which active unit these Marines belong to?”

  The response from the spokesperson was automatic. “All active military deployments are classified and I cannot comment.”

  Jon almost fell out of his chair with laughter; the spokesperson had practically contradicted his own earlier statement. You could see onscreen the spokesperson hesitate for a moment, then with a fish out of water expression, you could see him think, Doh! No further questions were permitted and the spokesperson made a hurried exit.

  Unable to think up excuses for incarcerating the freed captives for any longer; the excuse to the Judge that they needed to remain secluded to aid in their recovery was only going to last a few days at best, the Confederation Navy released the freed prisoners into… the open arms of the awaiting media. Having lost everything in the Syndicate attacks that took them captive, Jon certainly hoped that one or two of the families at least managed to negotiate a richly paid media exclusive.

  In any case, it had an even more electrifying impact than Jason and his team could have wished and prayed for. The media coverage was wall-to-wall, of terrified families, fearing for their lives, after having already lost their livelihoods, in tears describing their rescue by the Marines. One pretty, dark haired little girl held up the teddy bear that she had been given by one of the Marines when she was frightened by the medical check-up.

  Jon made inquiries around the station, but none of the Marines recollected giving away a teddy bear, or at least was willing to admit to doing so. Personally, Jon had his own suspicions.

  Suffice to say that calls to the Marine’s recruitment office, already up by 200%, skyrocketed by a further 600%. In counterpoint, the stock price for Chamber of Commerce, Business and Shipping (CCBS), already trading down 20%, fell a further 60%.

  Another switchboard that also quickly became overloaded was for the Senate Office on Eden Prime, flooded by calls from indignant citizens demanding to know what action was to be taken by their government against CCBS. Senators, a fickle species on a good day, always quick to detect the changing winds of public perception were lining up to sign-up for the newest Senate sub-committee to investigate the activities for CCBS. Of the 280 senators, representing each world in the Confederation, 270 voted in favour, 9 against, with one vote uncast (he was in the wash-room and missed the vote). It did not make much difference to the voting citizens, as he, along with the other nine senators, was not put forward for re-election the following year.

  Jason and team, worried that the yawn-inducing political sessions of the Senate might turn off the now agog public, issued their next clip. On the assumption that nothing sells better than sex, they released a short clip of Miranda disembarking from the Eagle One, releasing the tight zipper from her figure hugging flight suit, with her dark raven hair unravelling. She was every teenager’s wet dream (and quite a few of the aforementioned teenagers’ fathers). Suffice to say that applications to the navy pilot program quadrupled overnight. Frankly at this rate, Jon felt that the Confederation Navy could do far worse than turn over the keys to their recruitment program to Jason and his team…

  The Senate sub-committee officially sat for their first session the following day, the quickest session organised in the
brief history of the Confederation Senate. None of the Senators had little idea what the hell was going on, as the Navy were being as usual, tight-lipped. The Navy in fact were busy investigating multiple breaches of security around the on-going investigation, still troubled by the fact that the leaks seemed to be occurring prior to the investigation actually uncovering any evidence. Therefore when in doubt, and when in urgent need to be seen to be proactive, the sub-committee subpoenaed the board of directors for CCBS, along with the entire executive management team. The lawyer representing CCBS uncomfortably informed the Senate sub-committee that nobody was able to attend, citing prior commitments.

  The sub-committee mulled over this response for a full-half day, then ordered the Navy to send in the Marines, the real ones this time, to seize…well anything.

  Jon organised another cinema night on Terra Nova and with the usual popcorn and peanuts flying back and forth. The Marines and station security cheered as the (real) Navy Marines boarded and seized all Syndicate facilities throughout the systems. According to Gunny they didn’t make too much of a half-assed job doing it…

  Not surprisingly they mostly found abandoned facilities, wiped computer cores and lots of foot-troops, the senior Syndicate personnel even quicker to see the oncoming storm, had long since hotfooted it out of the system. However, at least they did so with only the clothes they wore on their backs as the Senate had already frozen all Syndicate accounts, with the supplied details from Jason and his team, via Navy Intelligence, a more obvious oxymoron yet to be discovered.

  However, for Jon the crowning moment of the entire affair was the (brief) statement from the Confederation President, Sofia Aurelius. Biting on the inside of her cheek, which Jon knew for a fact that she did only when worried about something (doubtful) or royally pissed about something (much more likely) she announced that the Senate investigation would be thorough and leave no stone unturned.

  Jon had a fairly strong hunch that Sofia knew exactly who, or what was behind the incident and planned for pretty much all of it to remain untouched. After all how could she not? If she did not recognise the equipment and tactics deployed, then she most certainly recognised some of the faces in the short video clips supplied, Doctor Richardson had delivered Sofia at her birth, and was the personal physician for her father and her for over ten years!

  Finally with her prepared statement coming to an end, she resignedly asking if there were any questions.

  The enterprising journalist from Transcendence, obviously having been promoted, was straight out his chair once again with the same question.

  “Can the Confederation Navy confirm which active unit the Marines in the holoclip belong to?”

  Sofia however was not some young, naive Navy spokesperson. Giving the reporter a withering glare, with eyes burning furiously and a voice like a whip demanded. “Are you deaf, as well as being an idiot? Did you even listen to what I was saying? The Navy has no knowledge of these actions. Now sit-down before you make yourself look even more idiotic. Does any other idiot have a stupid question?”

  The more astute reporters quickly lowered their hands, realising that the President was not in the mood to take any further questions. However, some people were slower than others, and one reporter shouted out a question from the back of the room.

  “I’m sorry, I did not get your name and who you worked for?” Sofia called back sweetly.

  Uh oh, Jon thought.

  “After all, we would not want some editor firing the wrong, poor, innocent reporter by mistake for your inept question would we?” The aforementioned reporter sunk deflated back into his seat along with the remaining questions.

  You go girl!

  “In closing remarks,” Sofia said. “I would like to remind all Confederation citizens that the Government will not allow vigilante justice and any such action in the future will result in the full force of the Confederation Government and her military forces.”

  Jon raised his bottle of beer in mock salute to the holo-projector and stated out aloud to the empty office. “Message received and understood, Princess.”

  As the broadcast concluded, Jon wondered at what point their relationship hit such a new low that they now had to use the Confederation media to talk to each other. It had been some years since Jon last saw Sofia and was surprised at how much she had aged, while Jon still thought she looked as beautiful as ever, still possessing the spark that had so dawn Jon to her. However, he could not fail to notice the dark rings under her eyes, eyes that seemed to have lost that sparkle that Jon could so clearly remember.

  Frankly Jon thought she looked tired and weary, a thought that left him in a melancholy mood for many days thereafter.

  Chapter Eleven

  Present Day

  Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

  Jon was not the only one on the station anxiously waiting to see what the Syndicate’s response might be. While Jason and his team might have fooled the entire Confederation, with the possible exception of the office of the President, they had no such illusions about the Syndicate. The Syndicate had ample time to review the logs from the station before having to abandon it. This included the voice communication of Miranda requesting docking clearance, and possibly sensor recordings of the Eternal Light and Eagle One. No - the Syndicate knew exactly who was behind the attack, and while they had underestimated Jon and his crew once, he doubted that they would do so again.

  Hence, late at night, station time, almost eight weeks after the attack on the Syndicate facility, Jon was working in his office, reviewing the latest status reports. It was therefore, with only little surprise, that Jon noticed his office lights dim for a moment, before returning to their original brightness. A few moments later they flickered again, before extinguishing completely. The office suddenly plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the viewport and the energy screen holding back the depths of space. Jon’s gaze was immediately drawn to the screen as it wavered for a heartbeat before it too vanished, to no longer hold back the deep emptiness of space.

  Jon’s breath froze, the chill of vacuum instantly seeping deep into his pores, his eyes frozen wide in stunned disbelief. Moving slowly as if to conserve whatever life remained, Jon slowly hit the communication key in his desk to be put through to C&C.

  “Lieutenant Patterson here,” came the crisp response.

  “Chris, it’s Jon. I have just lost power in my office. What is the status of the energy distribution grid?”

  “We’re detecting random power fluctuations throughout the Station, Commander…” Patterson responded.

  There had never been a power issue, not in the two-and-a-half years that Vanguard had been occupying the station, never. One of their first tasks on arrival was a complete inspection and overhaul of all the station’s systems, particularly life support and energy distribution. Jon was not a big believer in coincidences and he thought he detected a slight hesitation in the Lieutenant’s voice, as if he was going to add something else, but unsure if he should mention it.

  “Have any ships docked recently?” The long pause before any answer was forthcoming demonstrated to Jon that he had correctly identified the cause for Patterson’s hesitation.

  “Yes Commander, the Santa Maria docked only half an hour ago.”

  “She was a scheduled arrival?”

  “Yes sir, but she was running slightly behind schedule, approximately thirty minutes late…”

  Again Jon detected the note of hesitation in the lieutenant’s voice. “Just spit it out Chris. What was unusual about the Santa Maria’s arrival?” Jon could hear the intake of breath over the communication link and rolled his eyes in disbelief. Jon was aware that he had a certain ‘reputation’ among the more junior officers, he guessed at that moment they were adding telepathy to his list of skills.

  “Captain Anderson was not on the bridge at arrival, sir. His crew reported there had been an accident on-route and they requested immediate docking and a medical team on arrival. As the
y were not forthcoming about the nature of the accident, damage to the ship and any possible risk to the station I assigned then to docking bay fifteen, and dispatched a medical team. I was still deciding whether to contact you or the Captain when we picked up the energy fluctuations and you called sir. ”

  Jon thought quickly for a moment, bay fifteen was the most remote external docking bay they possessed, far on the outer docking ring away from the main station habitat ring, for this reason it was seldom used except for dangerous or volatile cargos…

  “Very well Lieutenant, have the medical team arrived at bay fifteen yet?”

  There was a pause for a few moments as he was trying to ascertain the location of the medical team. “No sir, at this time there was only a skeleton medical staff on duty, so they were waiting for the off-duty team to arrive. They have only just been dispatched.”

  “Then withdraw the medical team and seal off the bay…” Jon thought for a further moment, alone in the dark office with only the starlight shining through the gaping viewport. If they were interfering with the energy distribution grid they could be anywhere on the station by now…

  “Sound general quarters,” Jon ordered crisply. “Intruder alert.”

  “Sir?” Patterson queried dumfounded. He could not remember Terra Nova, ever going to general quarters before.

  “That was an order Lieutenant,” Jon insisted resolutely.

  “Yes sir.”

  In the background Jon could already start to hear the wail of the alarms, signifying that the station was now on an alert status.