The Last Praetorian (The Redemption Trilogy)

by Mike Smith

  With growing concern, Paul recognised a fanatical gleam in Jon’s eyes, one that he had not seen in many years. Like many of the senior staff Paul had first met Jon during their time in the Imperial Fleet, their paths had crossed frequently, mostly while on clandestine operations ordered by the Emperor. However, even before meeting Jon in person, Paul had heard the whispers in the fleet about the new Commander of the Praetorian Guards. The word fanatical was the one Paul had most heard used to describe the young Commander, and he could understand how most people had mistakenly assumed so.

  Upon first meeting Jon, Paul had braced himself for the worst. Hearing the rumours he had assumed he would be dealing with a raving fanatical zealot, suicidally intent on carrying out the Emperors wishes, whatever the cost. Instead Paul found himself dealing with a smart, determined officer. Paul discovered that the fanaticism, that most people labelled the Commander with, was instead a passionate belief in the underlying principles of the Empire, and its leader… the Emperor. Furthermore Paul was astonished to discover that the Commander had a unique ability to use that belief and to inspire those around him, to share in it and as a result those around him trusted in him, completely, to the point that Paul knew that they would follow him into hell; because they trusted him that he would bring them all back.

  During his time with Jon, through some of the darkest times of his life, Paul came to understand the source of this man’s belief. For what perhaps even Jon did not realise, was that he had come to love the Emperor. A person whom half the Empire detested as a dictating tyrant, with the other half only tolerating, as the alternative was even worse to contemplate, Jon had come to love him as a father. Paul could never comprehend how, or why, though he had made some educated guesses over the years; a beautiful Princess with flaming red hair and emerald green eyes came first to mind…

  Anyway for whatever reason Jon believed in those ideals, and was determined that they would succeed. Hence the fall of the Empire shook those beliefs and ideals to his core. With each successive corruption or bribery charge laid at the Confederation Senate, a little piece of Jon’s faith and spirit was chipped away, until all that was left, was a shadow of his former self.

  As far as Paul was aware there were only two reasons why Jon still fought for his belief and ideals. The first was the love that Paul knew Jon still retained in his heart for Sofia. Occasionally he would still see the spark in his old friend’s eyes, and a sad smile grace his face and he knew that Jon was still thinking about her, fighting to make the galaxy just a slightly better place for her, and maybe one day her children. The other reason…well Paul did not need to see the hate smouldering in Jon’s eyes across the table to guess the second reason…

  “Jon?” Paul prompted again.

  “Nothing changes,” Jon replied ominously.

  “And the no suicidal final stand edict?” Paul inquired, gave Jon a sceptical look.

  “The discussion is finished. Dismissed,” Jon ordered to the stunned officers.

  “What about…”

  “I said dismissed!” Jon growled, chopping his hand thought air to make it clear that the subject was now closed.

  The senior staff all gazed towards Paul with various concerned expressions, a moment later Paul gave the staff a nod, to acknowledge the order and slowly, one by one, the senior officers filed out of the meeting room, until finally only Paul and Jon remained.

  “I said dismissed, Captain,” Jon ordered focusing his angry stare at Paul.

  “I’m no longer a Captain, and I resigned from the Navy, don’t you remember?” Paul replied mildly. “It means that you can’t go ordering me about.”

  Evidently Jon had forgotten that technicality, as instead he ground his teeth together in frustration, that they were going to have to have this conversation.

  “Jon, we have known each other a long time, I have never questioned your decisions,”

  Until now…

  “This is not our fight any more, call the Confederation Navy, call the Senate, hell, call Sofia. It was not so long ago. A lot of them still remember you, and they respect you. They will listen to you! The Emperor is dead Jon, this personal crusade of yours is not necessary…”

  “NO!” Screamed Jon, slamming his fist’s into the table with such force that the table trembled. “It was my fault! I knew that Harkov was a snake and did nothing! My fault! I swore an oath to defend the Emperor and failed! My fault! I swore that I would protect Sofia…”

  “And you did, you have!”

  “No! You do not know how many times I came close to losing her! All because of Harkov! All because I failed in my duty. Well, I am going to make sure that bastard does not harm…anybody else. I’ll send him back to the deepest, darkest pit of hell, from where he crawled out! My only regret is that I’ll not have the pleasure to gut him first, and watch him drown in his own bile!”

  “Marcus would not have wanted this for you, or Sofia…” Paul suggested quietly.

  “That’s the first thing that you have said that I happen to agree with. No, I’m almost certain that this is not what Marcus was planning…” Jon replied bitterly. “The man has been dead for almost five years and I still cannot seem to escape from his shadow.”

  Paul eyed the younger man speculatively, wondering what Jon meant by that comment. “That’s why you left Sofia? Because of something Marcus said or did before he died?” Paul speculated aloud. He had been telling Miranda the truth that he had no real idea why Jon left Sofia, but if it was something Marcus had said or did, that would make some sense. Except Marcus had been dead for months when Jon finally turned his back on Sofia, after the signing of the Confederation Charter on Eden Prime. Soon after Jon disappeared on his self imposed exile, only reappearing a few years ago to accept Paul’s offer of leading Vanguard. It just didn’t make any sense…and it was obvious that Jon was not going to enlighten him, as he simply averted his eyes, muttering about history being left in the past.

  “And what of all the others on the station, Jon?” Paul threw back in his face. “Remember that there are almost 300 lives at risk here. I will not put them at risk? What happened to that lofty goal?”

  Jon stared at Paul furiously before replying. “I’ll deal with Harkov myself, nobody will be ordered to stand at my side when that fleet arrives.” With that final word, Jon pushed back his seat and stormed out of the briefing room, his anger a palpable cloud, swirling around behind him.

  Paul watched with a worried expression as the door slid shut in his wake. Unfortunately the rest of the crew did not share Jon’s little self-worth. Paul knew with absolute certainty that not one member of the crew was going to leave if Jon insisted on remaining behind to face the fleet alone. Paul remained in the briefing room long after Jon’s departure facing some very unpalatable decisions.

  *****

  It was late into the night, station time, with his wife and children long since retired to bed; Paul tiredly sat down at his desk, his hand hovering over the communication console.

  Paul had never knowingly betrayed Jon, except for that one time when emotion had overcome reason. However, Paul had long since come to terms with that mistake, viewing that the years of self-regret and guilt surely was punishment enough for the act. Anyway, Paul recognised that one day he would have to face Jon with the truth, that encounter alone was likely to repay any remaining debt, with interest. Paul vowed that when that day came, he would ensure that Jon was nowhere within reach of his sword… Jon was dangerous enough on an average day, however with that blade in his hand, Jon was the epitome of death. Even Paul, no stranger to death, had been horrified at the sight of Jon, blade in hand scything through enemy troops as if they were simply blades of grass falling in the wind…no, Paul was going to make absolutely certain that Jon was nowhere near that weapon when he told him.

  It did not help Paul’s conscience much to realise that he was not disobeying a direct order, as such. Jon had ordered him not to involve the Confederation Navy, well that did not prec
lude Paul from informing anybody else, and if they just happened to pass on the message… Well that was out of Paul’s hands. Only slightly mollified by this minor distinction, Paul activated the communications console. The next problem was how to get the message to the intended recipient, Paul was fairly sure that her private channel was not listed in any public database…Therefore Paul accessed a not so private database, the Confederation Navy Data-net. Of course Paul did not have any official access to such a secure system, fortunately budgetary cuts to the Navy meant that the Confederation Navy data-net was simply a rebranded version of the old Imperial Navy data-net, and that…well Paul practically owned that. Accessing the database using one of the old system administrator accounts, Paul quickly looked up the private communication channel for Sofia Aurelius.

  Unfortunately that turned out to be the first of many problems. The second was quickly apparent when he tried initiating a call, only to be informed by the software agent monitoring Sofia’s private channel that she was currently unavailable and if he would like to leave a message, this would be passed on at the earliest possible opportunity.

  Paul growled in frustration, for all he knew Harkov could be arriving at any moment and people would start dying, rapidly. He had to get a message to Sofia immediately, his eyebrows arched in deep thought. Paul had similar software agents running on his own personal channel, obviously, most people did. While communications technology progressed, the pressing desire of some people, to sell others worthless crap unfortunately had not diminished in the slightest. Hence his personal software agent was only programmed to accept a limited number of calls, from specific people or locations… However, Paul had programmed in certain overrides, certain key words or phrases. Paul assumed that Sofia had done likewise, but what could he use to get her attention? Thinking about the words and phrases Paul had programmed, his wife Carol, kids names, birthdays, Jon… Paul thought back to the last time he had seen Sofia, remembering her devastated expression after Jon had left. No, Paul was sure that Sofia had loved Jon…then the answer hit him like a brick. Re-opening the communication channel, once again the software agent prompted him to leave a message, but this time he did.

  “Commander Jonathan Radec, 58th Squadron, Praetorian Guards.”

  The software agent immediately vanished from the screen, leaving a blank grey visage. Suddenly the channel connected and Paul was staring into the stunned green eyes of the last Imperial Princess - Sofia Aurelius.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Present Day

  Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

  Shocked into silence for a moment, surprised that he had actually managed to reach her in person Paul said the first thing that came into his head. “Sofia, you are not getting enough rest.”

  The stunned expression on the Princess’ face slowly gave way to an amused smile, when she replied. “Nice to see you too Paul, and I’m not surprised I look tired as it is three in the morning here local time on Eden Prime.”

  Paul winced, as in his rush he had not thought to check the local time on Eden Prime. However, before he could apologise Sofia continued.

  “Anyway, what is the reason for the call, and how come you managed to get through my filters…”

  Paul could see from her expression that she was studying her own system to work out why the call had gone directly through to her, the comprehension, quickly followed by the sudden sick expression on her face, was enough to clue Paul that she was jumping to erroneous conclusions. “Jon is perfectly fine,” he was quick to add.

  “I heard that he was badly hurt a while back,” Sofia explained with a hint of worry. “But I was told that he would make a full recovery with time. When I saw the reason for the call, I just assumed…” her voice trailed off.

  Paul could only roll his eyes in disbelief at the antics of this couple. Having, to the best of his knowledge, not seen or spoken to each other for almost half a decade they seemed to be better informed about each other than most married couples. Then again it was not surprising that Sofia was so up-to-date on the latest events on the station, as Sofia was the sole investor and owner of Vanguard. Paul wondered if Jon ever knew that all his activities, all the reports, the financial statements, all were indirectly going to Sofia.

  When Paul had first had the idea of starting this venture, after all, his contact list was brimming with exceptionally qualified, unemployed, ex-Navy officers and there seemed a good gap in the market running freight and logistics out on the rim. However, he needed a financial backer. Somebody with the initial seed capital to purchase the necessary ships, equipment and permits that such a company needed. Unfortunately his contact list for fabulously wealthy investors was rather slim; in fact there was only one person on it. A hugely wealthy ex-Imperial Princess, whom he knew via a close family friend. Sofia had immediately jumped at the opportunity, tired of the continuous political infighting. Before Paul knew it, he had the capital he required and via Sofia’s political and military connections the deeds to Terra Nova, the company’s new corporate headquarters. Paul found it ironic that Jon seemed to have spent his life after the Praetorian Guards running away from this striking woman, only to end up unwittingly bound to her. Then again if Jon had ever taken the time to investigate who actually owned Vanguard...

  “Jon’s fine,” Paul reassured the young woman. “He seems to be making a good recovery after his injury, even if he constantly refuses to follow Doctor Richardson’s orders to take it easy and rest. You know Jon…”

  Sofia offered a weak smile upon this news. Yes, she knew what Paul meant. Jon was never comfortable with sitting around idly, waiting for events to take place, or at least he never used to be… her smile turning sad once again. “How is he really doing Paul? It’s been so long since Jon and I last talked…” she replied sadly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, remembering the harsh words that the two had last exchanged.

  Paul could only curse at history, duty, fate, whatever or whoever seemed so intent on keeping these two apart, and both miserable. “He’s doing ok,” Paul replied. “He still thinks about you, he mentions you occasionally,” he added, thinking that was a safe enough comment.

  “And what about your newest crew member? I heard that she is now running the company, while Jon is recovering. I saw her picture on the GNN broadcast, she seems very young and beautiful…”

  It was only through years of debriefings with her father, Marcus, that allowed Paul’s expression to remain unchanged when he replied nonchalantly. “She is also doing well, it was my idea to promote her temporarily, she needs the experience.” Paul carefully schooled his expression to ensure that none of his more recent observations had a chance to leak. It was not his place to inform the Princess of what seemed to be a budding romance between Jon and Miranda; Sofia had already been hurt enough.

  However, perhaps somebody else had already informed Sofia? Or she had already guessed the truth, as she looked away from the view screen sadly. “It’s been so long now…the anger and the pain has mostly faded, it’s the hurt from the not knowing that bothers me now. Why Paul? Why did he do it? Why hurt me like that? Why did he leave me? Was it something I said, something I did…”

  Paul averted his eyes, not wanting to see the tears in the other woman’s eyes; cursing Jon for the hundredth time. What was worse, is that Paul still had no answer to any of those questions, years after she first asked him, weeping in his arms. Paul knew that those actions hurt Jon just as badly, perhaps even more, as Jon had left on his self-imposed exile, leaving behind the few people that he knew, and loved.

  Now he spent his days shut away in his office, reviewing reports or eating alone, nothing to accompany him except that wide viewport with the stars brightly visible. As far as Paul could understand, Jon felt that he deserved this penance; for the past mistakes that he blamed himself for.

  So engrossed in his own internal monologue, Paul failed to notice Sofia dry her eyes and turn back to the view-screen. “Anyway, I’m sorry, I am sure that y
ou did not go to all this trouble of reaching me, to watch me cry my eyes out over a long lost love…How are Carol and the kids?” she asked remembering her manners, that had been drilled into her since a small child in her father’s court.

  “They are good thanks,” he said. “The kids are getting older, and more trouble by the day. These days I usually have to threaten to call Gunny before I can get them to sleep…” The station’s kids had been in awe of the Marine Sergeant, ever since Lieutenant Castle’s daughter had recounted the story of how he had wasted the monster that was hiding in her bedroom wardrobe.

  Sofia laughed, as obviously the story had also reached her ears on Eden Prime. In some ways Sofia was the last unofficial member of the station crew. As while she resided many light-years away on Eden Prime, all the crew knew the history between her and Jon. Paul pitied what would happen to anybody that hurt Sofia, wondering if that included Jon. Paul had not heard of Sofia being involved with anybody. As the Confederation President, Paul assumed that her private life was pretty much non-existent, and any rumours of her involvement with anyone would make headlines, not the least as she was the last Imperial Princess, last in the Aurelius family line. Paul idly wondered what Jon would do or say if it did become common knowledge that Sofia was involved in somebody.

  Probably wish her the best happiness, and go back to his office, dark and alone never to be seen or heard from again…

  “And how are you? Aside from tired considering it’s three o’clock in the morning there? Speaking of which why are you still working at three o’clock in the morning?” Paul inquired.