by Mike Smith
“I’m fine, as for why I am up so-late, I’m beginning to understand why father always looked so tired. There are never enough hours in the day – or night to get everything done. Meetings and conferences all day, reports all evening, at some point I even try and find time to actually get work done.”
“Your father at least had the common sense to delegate some of his work and responsibilities,” Paul replied, noting with concern the dark rings under her eyes.
“My father was surrounded by competent fleet officers, able administrators and strong legislators,” Sofia retorted. “I’ve only got corrupt politicians and incompetent bureaucrats to work with.”
Paul smiled at Sofia’s succinct description of the Confederation government and replied. “Well, your father had an excellent method of motivation, anybody found incompetent was summarily removed, only occasionally with his head still attached.”
Sofia’s eyes brightened at the thought. “I wonder if I could raise a bill before the Senate to introduce such a policy for our bureaucracy. I can think of a half a dozen that could be cut down to size…” Sofia giggled.
Paul smiled, glad that for just a brief moment that he could glimpse the young headstrong Princess, whom he had first met back on Eden Prime soon after their arrival, after fleeing Harkov and the fleet. “What about yourself, Princess,” Paul replied putting his old emphasis on her title, the same one he used for his six year old daughter. “You have not given any thought to settling down and starting your own family?” he asked, in his own oblique way inquiring if there was anybody else in her life.
For just a brief instant Sofia seemed completely taken by surprise by the question, but then realising that Paul was inquiring if she had met anybody and not about children, she replied sadly. “No, to be honest I have not had the time. Anyway, after Jon…” Sofia trailed off despondently.
Briefly Paul considered what he would do if he ever lost Carol. Paul could not even contemplate the thought, and guessed that dating or finding anybody else would be the last thing on his mind. But what could he advise? That she should find somebody else? Move on after Jon? We’ll Jon certainly had not. Paul knew with absolute confidence that before Miranda, Jon had not taken a second look at anybody else. Furthermore Paul knew from the station scuttlebutt that he had more than a couple of offers, from some of the younger female crew who looked on Jon with awe, to some of their more frequent customers, who were strongly attracted to their young, handsome but private leader. So intent was Paul on his response that he almost missed the question asked by Sofia.
“Anyway, while I am sure that my love life, or lack of it, is high on your list of priorities - do you want to let me know the real reason for this call? I doubt that you purposefully tripped almost every flag on my communications agent, just to check on my health?”
As always so captivated by the younger woman and saddened by circumstances, Paul had almost completely forgotten about the purpose of the call. Taking a deep breath, Paul explained, “We have a problem.”
Sofia only gazed at him quizzically for a moment, before she broke out in laughter, the first truly joyful sound that Paul had heard from her since starting the call. Paul could only grin, when he realised to himself how that sounded.
“Only one?” Sofia replied, finally catching her breath. “In that case you must be slipping, as reading your reports usually there are at least half a dozen on-going crises on the station at one time.”
“Well…this one is a little more serious than most. You are aware of our on-going conflict with the Syndicate Cartel in this system.”
Sofia’s smile faded and her eyes became more serious when she replied. “Yes, I read the intelligence reports supplied to me by the office of naval intelligence. I could see you, Jon and Sergeant Reynolds fingerprints all over it. Additionally that little disinformation, propaganda campaign seemed to bear all the hallmarks of your Lieutenant Edgar, fortunately Naval intelligence seem to be completely in the dark and I’m stonewalling their investigation as best as I can.”
Paul nodded his head in thanks to Sofia’s selfless actions in protecting them and the company’s involvement in the incident. He went on to recount the story, in depth describing the conspiracy that they had discovered hidden behind the Syndicate cartel. As Paul recounted the investigation, Sofia’s face became more and more furious; by the time that Paul had finished the young woman was livid.
“Why was I not informed of this?” she thundered. “This is the sort of intelligence that should have immediately been brought before the Senate, or at the very least to me.”
Paul looked away, his cheeks flaming from the strong rebuke, and what was worse is that Paul agreed with her. This news should have been brought before the Confederation long before; if it had, then events might have not spiralled so badly out of control, they would not now be in the current predicament. Of course Jon had made it perfectly clear to the senior staff, Paul included, that he would forward this intelligence appropriately. Paul briefly wondered what Jon had done with it, probably stuck it under a file entitled, no action required.
“Jon insisted, that he would act on the intelligence immediately,” Paul responded evasively. “I’m sure that it’s just because of events have overtaken…”
“Bullshit,” Sofia interrupted Paul angrily. “At the very best he has filed it away for future consideration, mostly likely he simply destroyed it, but why?”
Paul ardently hoped that Sofia did not come to the same realisation as him, but the wide-eyed expression that suddenly appeared on her face soon dashed that hope. Paul was reminded that he was not that only person that knew the inner working of Jon’s mind so well. In many ways Sofia knew Jon ever better than he did…
“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Sofia replied in disbelief. “He purposefully suppressed that information because he didn’t want me finding out about it, as he knew that I would take necessary action to protect the Confederation. He still thinks of me as that young naïve Princess that he pulled off the Imperial Star so long ago, well… I’ll show him,” she seethed.
Uh Oh.
“Before you make any hasty decisions, I think you had better hear the rest of it.”
“There’s more?” Sofia demanded, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
Paul continued to recount the recovered recording between Magistratus Mallart and Commodore Harkov. By the end of the story there was a very pale and shaken Princess, her anger all but forgotten.
“Harkov is on his way to you, with the 4th fleet?” Sofia whispered terrified.
Paul nodded. “This is all about the Commander, Jon. Harkov loathes him, blames him for disrupting his plans, but also I think he fears him. He knows that Jon will stop at nothing to kill him; it’s a personal vendetta between the two of them.
“Harkov hates Jon, even before my father’s death the two of them despised each other. Harkov is going to kill him.”
“Possibly,” Paul shrugged. “I honestly don’t think Jon cares. All he cares about is this personal blood feud that they have. I honestly don’t think Jon cares if he lives or dies, as long as he kills Harkov first.”
“But it doesn’t make sense. Sure, Jon hates Harkov, but not enough to risk all your lives, what is it that you are not telling me Paul?” Sofia demanded intuitively.
“Jon is going to face Harkov and the fleet alone,” Paul sighed. While Jon had never said the words out aloud in the briefing earlier, Paul knew in his heart that it was what Jon had planned. “He will order the crew to abandon the station, he will go up against Harkov alone.”
All the blood drained from Sofia’s face, and for a moment Paul thought that she would faint. “It’s suicide,” she muttered. “He is going to go and get himself killed.”
“I don’t think he cares,” Paul sighed aloud. “Jon seems to view his life as the cost he must pay for his past failures.”
“Well Jon might think his life is not worth much, and does not care if he lives or dies. But I do, and I expres
sly forbid him to go and get himself needlessly killed.”
Paul had to smile at the statement, as it reminded him so much of the younger Jon and Sofia, when the impossible was just another day for them.
Sofia meanwhile continued on. “While the Confederation fleet is spread very thin these days, damn all these budgetary cuts to the Navy over the years, I tried to argue that it was a bad idea, but they would not listen…Anyway I’ll assemble whatever fleet assets that we have in your sector and send them to you straight away. Meanwhile you keep Jon from rushing off and getting himself killed.”
“Very well, your Empress,” Paul said with a bow of the head.
Sofia looked at Paul suspiciously for a moment, then threw her had back laughing. “Nobody has called me that in years, since Jon half-joking asked me if I wanted to rule the galaxy. At least I think he was joking…” tapping her fingers thoughtfully on her desk for a moment she continued. “Come to think of it, I think it’s time that I paid a personal visit to Terra Nova.”
“Excuse me!” Paul uttered with complete incredulity.
“Pay you a personal visit, you know, take a close look at my investment, make sure that everything and everyone is working properly.”
“Excuse me!” Paul uttered again, completely lost for any other words at the impending disaster.
“Why Paul, have you still not told Jon who the real owner of Vanguard is?” Sofia asked with a knowing smile.
“No, to be honest it has never come up in conversation,” Paul replied embarrassedly.
“Then I think it is high-time for Jon to find out who is really in charge!” Sofia said with a predatory smile.
Paul could only stare in horror at Sofia’s smug look as he thought about the meeting between these two volatile personalities. They were going to either end up killing themselves, or naked and entwined over Jon’s spacious desk, or possibly both! Come to think of it Paul had not seen Jon all evening, ever since their heated words in the briefing room. Paul could only assume that he had retired to his quarters for the evening, alone. Saying that he had also not seen Miranda that evening either, and the two had seemed very close, as they had entered the briefing room together, hand in hand, Miranda laughing at something Jon had said.
Meanwhile Paul felt as if he had swallowed a hot iron ball, the way that his stomach was doing summersaults. After years of encouraging Jon to go out and get a life, he finally had! Only for his old life to materialise in their docking bay! Paul felt sick to the stomach, the only thing that could be worse would be Jon finding out about him and Sofia; the way that his luck was going recently, it seemed a sure bet! Closing his eyes, Paul made a quick prayer that the 4th fleet would turn up and swallow him whole first.
Giving Sofia a sickly smile, he replied. “Obviously we will look forward to your arrival.”
Sofia just laughed and replied. “I just bet you will! I’ll send you whatever fleet assets we have in the area. See you soon!” and with that the communication link terminated. Paul could only stare at the blank screen in dread, wondering how he was going to explain this one to Jon!
*****
Sofia smiled at the sickly expression on Paul’s face as she cut the channel.
Well it served him right, for calling me at three in the morning and scaring me to death about Jon! She thought to herself with a smile that soon turned wistful as she picked up one of the photos on her desk. It was a photo of her and Jon taken many years back and was one of her most prized possessions, along with her mother’s wedding ring and a priceless paperback copy of Aristotle’s Poetics, that had been inscribed to her by her father.
Sofia was certain that Jon would have hated the picture, as he was a very private person and this one had been taken without his knowledge. Sofia remembered the scene well, as it was taken at the reception, soon after the signing of the Confederation Charter. Sofia had been cornered by one of the Senators, whose impenetrable boring discussions on the body of the charter were causing her eyes to glaze over. Suddenly she had felt movement behind her, and before she could react or call out, an arm had whipped around her waist to ensnare her. Almost at the same time she felt the soft stubble of Jon’s whiskers tickle her neck, quickly followed by his tongue. Looking over her shoulder, about to admonish him for the rude interruption, he had whispered into her ear, of where he would much rather be, and much rather be doing! She had flushed a bright scarlet at his heated words and had quickly made her apologies at their sudden departure. The picture showed them entwined, with Sofia peering over her shoulder into Jon’s eyes, dark with arousal and the blush forming on her cheeks from his words.
More than once Sofia had cried herself to sleep, the picture clutched tightly to her breast, but far more often she had instead stared for hours at the picture. Trying to fathom out the reason for Jon’s abrupt change of heart, barely days after the photo had been taken. Others had tried to console her, regarding the fickle nature of men, and their love-em and leave-em nature. But they did not know Jon like she did. In her heart she knew him and knew that he was not like that. She knew deep down that Jon must have had his reasons for doing what he did, but in the intervening years she had never managed to fathom why...
In the early years, soon after Jon’s abrupt and angry departure, Sofia had gone on a couple of dates, mostly to spite Jon more than out of any real interest. However, too many times over dinner or drinks, Sofia had looked up into her date’s eyes, puzzled why they had the wrong eye colour, be it blue, or brown, or some other colour, but not the stormy grey that she had fallen hard for. The few relationships that she had that had progressed beyond dinner or drinks had quickly fizzled out. Most had been too intimidated by her forceful personality, or had tried to mould her into what their expectations of an Imperial Princess should be, devoid of any personality or intellect, a beautiful statuette, who they expected to stand there and look pretty.
Jon had never tried to change her; he had always made it clear that she was perfect as she was. He had enjoyed their discussions, or so he claimed. He had always treated her as an equal, although perhaps one that he placed high on a pedestal - too many times for Sofia’s comfort. No, Sofia compared a number of different men to Jon, and found them all lacking. As for the physical side of their relationships, Sofia shuddered. The few that had reached that stage, kissing was cold and uncomfortable. As if somebody had placed an ice-block along her spine, the only result was goosebumps down her back. Kissing Jon had not left her cold, quite the opposite, with Jon she felt like she was on fire, that she would be burnt alive and the only thing that could extinguish the flames was Jon. So no, she had been telling Paul the truth when she said that there was nobody else in her life, only her work.
Lately her work did not seem to be enough anymore. She remembered when she first had joined the Senate, the desire to do good, to help people… to make a difference. The naïve optimism of youth, Sofia assumed. The only force that ruled the Senate was inertia and public opinion. Sadly Sofia faced the truth that Jon’s actions and his manipulation of the media against the Syndicate cartel, with the resulting Senate rush of activity had achieved more in six weeks than she had realistically achieved in almost half a decade…
Well Jon is not the only one to take drastic measures, in drastic times.
Opening a channel to Fleet Admiral Sterling, she reached one of his very surprised aides, who pointedly informed the Confederation President that at three in the morning New Eden system-time the Admiral was asleep.
“That’s fine,” Sofia replied with a saccharine smile. “I’ll hold while you go and wake him up.”
While she waited on hold for the aides to raise the Admiral, Sofia thought back to her conversation with Paul. She would do whatever was necessary; pay whatever cost that was required to get the Confederation fleet moving out to Terra Nova.
She knew that Harkov hated Jon, hated him with an intensity that was bordering on an obsession. Sofia could still remember that terrifying moment, holding Jon’s broken body to
her breast. She still awoke occasionally with a silent scream, covered in sweat, remembering the incident. No, she would do whatever was necessary to protect him from that same fate twice…
Chapter Fifteen
Five Years Previously
Memphis Station, Procyon System
The Eternal Light dropped out of FTL in front of…nothing. Sofia looked out of the cockpit viewport confused. There was nothing outside the ship, no planets, no stations, no ships…only the endless night of interstellar space, surrounded by a hundred million brightly shining stars.
Jon meanwhile was tapping his finger incessantly on the ships console, eyebrows furrowed, obviously deep in thought.
“A problem?” Sofia asked nervously, the last thing she wanted was to spend the rest of eternity floating through deep space, with a pair of malfunctioning engines, with a brooding companion as her only company. Jon had been unusually quiet ever since their departure from Altair. Or at least quieter as Jon was always a man of few words, believing that actions spoke louder than words. Sofia was determined to get to the root of the problem before they arrived.
“Not really, more trying to decide upon a course of action,” Jon explained after a moments thought. “That is Eden ahead,” Jon pointed to one of the brightest stars almost directly ahead. “It’s barely 2.5 light-years away, a few more hours in FTL and we will arrive,” he added biting his lip.
“And that is not a good thing?”
“Perhaps, it all depends on who… or what is waiting for us?”
“You are still worrying about Harkov?” Sofia deduced.
“I’m worrying who else Harkov could be working with. If he has decided to take this course of action alone, then there is no problem. However, for all I know this could be a fleet-wide coup d’état...”
“…So we could be flying directly into a trap?”