by Mike Smith
He still remembered the first time when he was politely, but firmly, informed he was no longer welcome there. First the subtle suggestion that he depart, followed soon after by more strenuous prompting. Nobody had died that time. He had been insistent he be allowed an audience and finally they had relented, but only when he had agreed to depart immediately after receiving the answers he looked for. That was the last time they had been polite, after that doors were slammed in his face, permission to land flatly refused.
Jon remembered it was at this point that the killing had started.
First one, then another, and another, until he soon lost count. Every planet, station and asteroid just blurred into another. They all would answer his questions—eventually. The only factor was how many had to die first. Too many dismissed him as just one man, no longer the right hand of the long-dead Emperor or the leader of that legendary band of mythical warriors. He wasn’t even an officer of the Imperial Navy, the force which had kept the peace for over five centuries, as that had also been disbanded.
Instead he was something far worse—a man on a crusade to find a person he had sworn to kill. A person who had stripped everything from him, leaving him with nothing left to lose. After a while things started to slowly improve, as the rumours had started to spread far ahead of him. By the end of the second year, it was unusual to arrive at a destination that had not already heard of him. By then people were more than happy to answer any questions he might have.
Just to be rid of him.
There were still some places where he was made unwelcome. The prestige and glory of being the one to kill the mighty, invincible Praetorian Commander was still too big a lure. Touching the angry scar on his chest, just a few centimetres above his heart, Jon was reminded that he could only be lucky so many times. If the shot had been just a fraction lower then he would not be alive today.
Eventually the day arrived when the trails had finally all gone cold. No more leads, no more rumours. Nothing. Hence he found himself here, floating in the inky blackness of space, contemplating his next move. Currently on the furthest known rim of explored space, what lay ahead was totally uncharted.
In front of him lay a hundred million unexplored stars, any of which could be hiding Harkov and the 12th Imperial Fleet. But he had no idea which star and, even worse, after three years of searching his fervour was starting to fade. He had spent the whole time alone, searching every system, every planet in the Imperium, but to no avail. Even if he did find the 12th fleet, even if he fulfilled his greatest wish and slayed Harkov, what then? Would it bring the Emperor back to life? Would it wash away the look of betrayal and pain he had put on Sofia’s face by his actions? He knew it would do neither, but what was the alternative? He had nothing else. No life, family or other real purpose. Just him, his pain and the ghosts of his past to keep him company. Therefore, lifting a pale finger in front of him, he held it inches from the window of the shuttle, pointing at a bright star directly ahead of him.
“Let’s try that one first then,” Jon spoke out loud for the first time in many days. Even to him his voice sounded rough and tired. Confirming that the navigational computer had the correct coordinates programmed in, he was about to bring the main faster-than-light engines online, when a chime from the communication system interrupted him. Jon raised an eyebrow in surprise. He could count on the fingers of one hand how many messages he had received in the past three years. Even more surprising was the content of the message, for it was unsigned, consisting of only a single word. “Come.”
Jon knew that potentially anyone of over ten billion people could have sent that message, but he knew only one person who would have actually done so. He wiped the coordinates from the navigational computer and input an entirely new set.
After so long it would be good to talk to somebody not intent on causing him harm. Jon paused in his internal deliberations, remembering the cloud under which he had left Memphis Station, and corrected that first thought. It would be good to talk to somebody who probably was not intent on causing him harm.
*****
The station had not changed much since his last arrival here, almost three years before with Sofia, as they fled from Harkov and his mercenaries. One thing which had not changed at all was the station docking control, as, upon announcing his arrival, the channel went very quiet, followed by a terse, “Please hold.” It was not until almost an hour later that he was given permission to dock. It did not pass his notice that he was directed to the most secluded, remote docking bay on the entire station. His lips upturned slightly upon hearing this, wondering if his reputation had spread even this far.
After docking and making his way to the nondescript entrance to Albert’s small apartment, Jon mused that perhaps his original thought had been correct. For a station with well over a million inhabitants, it seemed suspiciously deserted, with only the occasional curious face appearing outside an apartment, before quickly ducking back inside at his approach.
When Jon finally arrived at his destination, he hit the announcer button impatiently and waited for the predictable response.
“Go away!” the instantly recognisable voice bellowed out, through the small speaker. “I’m not interesting in buying—”
“Albert. Let me in, or so help me God I’ll kick this door down and use it to beat you over the head,” Jon yelled back into the small speaker, interrupting the man’s usual tirade.
After a moment of stunned silence, the door silently slid open, the dark portal hardly welcoming. However he paid little attention to this, only marched into the room and, without being prompted, took a seat on the opposite side of the desk. “If you’re going to shoot me then do it now and save me from the agony of this conversation,” Jon complained loudly to the other occupant of the room.
A dim light illuminated the room before Jon had even finished speaking, and he saw out of the corner of his eye a pistol disappearing unobtrusively into a deep drawer in the desk.
“You look like—”
“Don’t even say it,” Jon forestalled, raising his hand to interrupt Albert. “I’m tired, cranky, irritable and quite possibly homicidal. Come to think of it, much like your usual self. Don’t force me to take you with me, when I launch myself into the arms of the Great Maker. You do not want to spend the rest of eternity stuck with me.” Taking a deep breath, he added. “Now where is Harkov and the 12th Fleet?”
Albert stared back at him, only his head and a hint of shoulders appearing from behind the imposing desk. “Not a clue. What made you think that I knew where he was?”
Tired, overwrought, stressed and pushed far beyond his limits, Jon’s mouth fell open in shock. “What the hell do you mean you don’t have a clue where he is? You told me to come!”
“Indeed,” Albert nodded his head sagely. “At no point did I ever state, or even imply, that I had the slightest clue where Harkov is hiding.”
Jon did not hesitate, as he launched himself across the desk, arms outstretched reaching for the throat of the much smaller man.
It took him several more minutes to realise what a foolish idea it was to be wrestling on the floor with a man who could bench-press him several times over. He only came back to his senses when he noticed a bottle filled with amber liquid was being held over his head. Squinting at the label on the bottle, Jon quipped. “Are you going to hit me with that, or shall we drink it together? That Scotch is a seventy-five year old blend and it would be a shame to waste it.”
Accepting the proffered hand, Jon felt himself being hauled to his feet and dumped unceremoniously back into his chair. After a couple of glasses of Scotch Jon felt rational enough to ask the obvious question. “If you don’t know the whereabouts of Harkov, then why did you contact me?”
Albert took another sip from his glass, using the opportunity to look aside in embarrassment. “I need a favour.”
“A favour? From me? That's rich, coming from the person who always names his price. Anyway, I am a little short of favours t
o offer at the moment. Surely there is somebody else that you can ask?”
Albert just shook his head insistently. “There is nobody else I trust with this. My niece needs to travel to Eden Prime, on a—job,” Albert added after a momentarily hesitation. “I want you to protect her and keep her safe. Help her to complete her assignment and get her back home safely. There is nobody else that I trust with her life. Only you.”
“Your niece?” Jon replied agape. “Are you crazy? You cannot seriously want me anywhere near your family. Didn’t you hear what happened with Sofia?” He quickly snapped his jaw shut, but by then it was too late. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet by at least twenty degrees.
“I heard what happened,” Albert said, his voice dipping dangerously. “I was so disbelieving, in fact, that I had to hear the story from no less than three different, independent, verified sources. However, seeing you are here, would you like to explain in person what happened?”
Jon held the older man’s stare for a long moment, before looking down at the empty glass in front of him, wishing for a refill but knowing now was not the time to ask. Playing with the empty glass and refusing to look the other man in the eye again, he shook his head and replied, “It happened exactly as you heard it.”
“But why?”
Jon looked up and, in a voice as brittle as the glass resting in front of him, enquired, “How much is that information worth to you?”
The two men locked gazes for what seemed like an eternity, but this time it was Albert that looked away first, frowning. “Whatever the reason, it is in the past now and nothing will change that, so I will let the matter drop,” he muttered. “But you owe me. Therefore you will escort my niece to Eden Prime and ensure that she remains safe while she is there.” Albert looked him squarely in the eyes. “In addition, you will stay away from her. You won’t talk to her unless it is work related and you won’t touch her. You will not even look at her, for if I find out that you have hurt her in anyway whatsoever, I’ll find somebody to kill you. You know that I am capable of it. I still know where all the bodies are buried and hence I have a long line of people that will be more than happy to carry out my threat.”
Albert let the words linger in the air for a while longer, before shrugging and emptying what little remained in his glass. “Do this favour for me and I’ll see what I can find out about Harkov and his current whereabouts. I think you will find my methods are vastly more effective than yours.” Albert motioned towards Jon’s chest, a few inches above his heart, directly where the scar from the last near miss resided, even though Jon had given no indication of the injury and everybody who knew about it was dead. “Now let me get back to my work, my niece is waiting at your shuttle—and don’t forget my warning.”
Stony faced, Jon rose to his feet and, for a moment, Albert thought he was going to salute. But instead he turned about face and, without another word, left the small room, the door sliding closed behind him.
Albert allowed the wicked grin he had been hiding the whole time to appear on his face. After all, he had kept Jon so off-balance throughout the entire meeting that the other man did not have time to contemplate the destination—the Senate on Eden Prime, where Sofia Aurelius was currently residing. Additionally, Albert was certain Jon did not know she had recently been elected to the Senate herself. He made a mental note to warn his spies of the up-and-coming meeting. He would not want to miss a moment of it. Perhaps they could record it for his future viewing pleasure? Albert smiled. That of course did not exclude the specific instructions he had given his niece prior to Jon’s arrival. The Commander was going to be in for a most uncomfortable assignment.
Albert could not contain his laughter any longer.
*****
Forewarned by Albert, Jon was not surprised to observe the young woman waiting patiently next to the Eternal Light. Glancing at her, Jon would have guessed her to be in her mid to late twenties, although he could not be certain. He knew that Albert was well over a hundred, but had never managed to determine his exact age. Hence her young looks could also be deceiving. He took in the shoulder-length blonde hair and brown eyes. She was thin, with an athletic build, obviously she exercised frequently and, based on the healthy golden glow of her skin, he assumed she was not a native to Memphis. Not unless she spent some serious time under artificial UV rays. However, it was none of these features that first drew his attention.
As he approached she looked up at the sound of his footsteps, and Jon came to a halt in front of her to stare down his nose at her. His stare started to unnerve her, as she took a nervous step back.
“What is it? Have I suddenly grown a second head or something?” she asked self-consciously.
Jon shook his head in a negative.
“Then what?”
He looked at her for a moment longer, before smirking. “You’re just taller than I expected.” With that he strode past the five-foot, four-inches woman and into the waiting shuttle, calling out behind him. “You had better get on board, we are departing immediately.”
*****
Even after a few days together, Jon had not yet managed to pry out of Sarah her family name, probably at Albert’s insistence. But at that precise moment her surname was the very last thing on his mind. What was very much at the forefront of his mind was that she was currently standing before him, dripping wet, wearing—well, nothing at all. His eyes had started to drift downwards before this realisation hit him, and his gaze quickly returned back to her face.
“Clothes are not optional on the Eternal Light,” Jon snapped out, doing his best to keep his face expressionless. What was worse was the expression on her face was one of blatant desire. Combined with the fact he had been pretty much alone for the past three years, and his promise to her uncle to keep a close eye on her did not include getting that close, Jon was ready to bang his head repeatedly into the nearest bulkhead. He would welcome the mindless oblivion.
Jon was fairly certain Sarah was deliberately trying to test his resolve. After all, just how many times could you walk in on one person naked? Memphis Station was less than a few hours from Eden Prime, yet Sarah had insisted on a roundabout route that had taken days. If the sexually charged atmosphere on the ship was not bad enough, he had spent the past few days contemplating their arrival at the Senate on Eden Prime. He would never have agreed to this, had he known their exact destination, which is why Albert had failed to mention it, he mused. Realising his thoughts had been drifting back to the past, where they frequently had been over the past few days, Jon realised that Sarah had asked him a question and was waiting for a response.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said that I left my towel in the bedroom, so do be a sweetie and run and fetch it for me.” Sarah ordered, with a knowing twinkle in her eye. After all, the bathroom was directly connected to the master suite, which Sarah was using. Soon after their departure, Sarah had offered to share the shuttle’s only bed with him, after which Jon had rapidly retreated to the cockpit, where he would remain for the duration of the voyage. Her appearance also failed to explain her presence in the main passenger cabin, as she had to walk through the bedroom and hence past her towel to arrive at her current location.
With narrowed eyes, Jon decided that enough was enough and he would no longer be a prisoner to his hormones on his own ship. Therefore, without answering her question, he instead simply reached for the top button of his uniform and started unbuttoning it.
Sarah’s eyes initially opened wide in shock at his blatant actions, especially with her current state of undress, but that soon passed as she stared in rapt appreciation at his chest. Her gaze came to rest on the scar tissue just underneath his shoulder, a few inches above his heart. Running the tip of her forefinger against the inflamed tissue, she asked hesitantly. “How did you get this injury?”
Jon simply stared at her intently for a minute, before shrugging nonchalantly. “Somebody broke my heart.” With that he brushed past her,
shedding his jacket on the way and throwing his uniform trousers onto the back of a seat a few steps later. “You can get your own towel,” he called back. “As it seems that the washroom is now free.” With that he stepped into the small washing facilities, closing and firmly locking the door behind him. Stepping under the shower, he moved the temperature to its lowest possible setting before switching on the spray.
Jon shivered, but it was not the cold water that bothered him, so much as their imminent arrival on Eden Prime. He had hoped never to return, as he had been honest with Sarah when he had told her that his heart had been broken. He had no idea what he would do or say if he happened to meet Sofia. After almost three years without seeing or talking to her, without her touch or smile, the desire for her that he kept locked deep inside had grown to a white-hot, burning need. He did not know how he would stop himself sweeping her from her feet and making love to her until they both passed out from exhaustion. Of course the likelihood of that happening was remote at best, as it was far more likely she would just hit him for his earlier betrayal.
Anyway, they would be there one, two or three days at the most. What was the chance of an accidental meeting?
*****
Jon looked around the opulent ballroom of the Confederation Senate with disgust. A small part of him had hoped for better, expected that after the wild excess of the initial months the Senate would settle down to the serious business of governing the Imperium and would put these wild, endless parties to rest. The more realistic part of him looked around unsurprised. The party was only just getting underway and the massive room was already filling up quickly. Many of the older senators and their much younger partners were already indulging in the free flowing champagne and seemingly endless hors d’oeuvres.