Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy)

by Mike Smith

  Instead Jon actually laughed at this announcement. “By all means insist Admiral, feel free to lodge a formal complaint in writing too, at the breach of fleet protocol. I’ll read it later with much interest. As for it being dangerous, you are quite correct, as anybody I find down there is going to be in a great deal of danger—from me. In the meantime, Anna,” at this Jon’s voice fell to barely a whisper, as he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. “There is something else that you should know.”

  “Yes?” she replied breathlessly.

  “Those hostile frigates seem to be in the process of escaping from you!” With this Jon laughed again, his eyes flashing with amusement. Then he stepped off the bridge and was on his way to the flight deck.

  Anna cursed before whirling around to the Tactical Officer, ordering him to target the nearest ship and open fire.

  “But what about ordering them to power down and surrender first?” he enquired, mystified, especially considering the Admiral’s earlier announcement about correct fleet protocol.

  “You heard the Emperor. They always disregard that warning anyway,” she muttered. “Order our escorts to break formation and engage at will.”

  *****

  When Jon arrived on the flight deck, several minutes later, he could feel the vibrations of the ship’s heavy guns already opening fire. He had little concern about the risk to the assault team, as the Relentless and her escorts vastly outmatched the small frigates, which would be too busy fleeing for their lives.

  Stepping out onto the flight deck, Jon came to an abrupt halt at the scene facing him. It was not the half-dozen assault shuttles or the full company of marines that surprised him, but the two men standing at the front…

  “Paul? Gunny?” he asked in confusion, stepping closer to the pair, so they could talk without being overheard. “What are you both doing here? I thought that you were planning to return to Terra Nova?”

  The two men exchanged glances, as Paul accepted a heavy assault rifle from Gunny. And while they checked each other’s tactical armour, he replied. “It was the strangest thing. We were about to depart back home to Terra Nova, when we heard rumours the Relentless was travelling to Altair, and Gunny here suggested it was time that we paid your family a visit.”

  “I take it that your mother still cooks, Commander?” Gunny added hopefully.

  “So I hear,” Jon replied dryly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Their story had holes big enough you could fly a starship through them.

  “Excellent. I’m starving,” Gunny quipped, after barking at the rest of the marines to board their shuttles, not even noticing the weight of the equally heavy assault rifle he picked up.

  Jon followed Gunny and Paul into the lead shuttle, quietly glad of their company. At least he knew they would be watching his back down on the planet. He had a terrible premonition that it was no coincidence the planet was under attack so soon after the failed assassination attempt on his own life.

  *****

  “Looks like we could be in for a bumpy landing,” Gunny commented to his two friends, the three of them jammed into the cramped cockpit of the shuttle.

  Jon did not attempt a verbal response, as he was trying to prise his jaw apart. The vibrations from the shuttle were jarring in their intensity, as the craft skipped over the upper atmosphere, like a pebble skimming over water. Normally they would be approaching at a much lower velocity and a steeper descent angle, but Jon was very much aware there were still hostile ships in the system, even if they were under attack from the Relentless taskforce.

  “You think Admiral Romanov is concerned about our safety?” Paul voiced out loud, observing no less than three squadrons of almost forty fighters from the Relentless in close formation around the shuttle.

  “I expect Anna is just worried about her future career advancement, if she happens to lose the newest Emperor on her first fleet engagement,” Jon replied absently, touching the flight controls and trying to smooth out the vibrations running through the shuttle.

  “Anna?” The two men in the shuttle voiced at the same time, looking at Jon in surprise.

  “Admiral Romanov,” Jon corrected, cursing over his slip of the tongue.

  “I’m certainly not on first name terms with the Admiral. What about you Gunny?” Paul smirked.

  “I don’t think the Admiral is even aware that I exist,” Gunny joked.

  Now that the shuttle was finally in the upper atmosphere, Jon powered down the main engines and activated the Ramjet, as even this high there was sufficient oxygen in the atmosphere for it to operate. The shuttle quickly accelerated to several times the speed of sound, with the nose firmly pointed at Carrington City, which was just becoming visible on the horizon.

  “You’re a real pair of comedians, you know that?” he replied. “Now if you don’t mind I want to concentrate on landing this bucket of bolts. This shuttle is older than I am. Does the Confederation Navy not build these things anymore?”

  “I think it’s more a case that the navy no longer buys them,” Paul said. “Senate cutbacks.”

  “Just great,” Jon complained. “The bean counters are going to be the death of us all.”

  Nobody had a response to that, as the rapid acceleration caused the shuttle to shake even more violently, preventing any further conversation.

  *****

  Stefan stumbled to a halt, as the forest around them seemed to suddenly go still. Previously they had been surrounded by the sounds of nature, with birds calling out their mating calls, the chirp of crickets and the sounds of small monkeys darting through the tree tops, then all suddenly fell silent. The silence only lasted for an instant before it was blasted away by the most deafening roar. The wave of sound was a physical thing and, as Stefan clamped his hands over his ears, he could actually see the treetops sway under the unrelenting pressure wave. As quickly as the sound came, it just as rapidly receded into the distance.

  “Captain?” Ryan asked after a moment’s hesitation. “What was that?”

  “A sonic boom,” Stefan replied without hesitation. “Probably from a ship entering the upper atmosphere. Based on the noise, I would guess that it was several ships travelling in close formation.”

  “The sound seemed to be moving towards Carrington City.” Ryan tightened the arm slung around Irene’s waist and looked over his shoulder, as though expecting the occupants of the craft to suddenly appear on the path behind him. “Who do you think they are?”

  Stefan rubbed the day’s stubble on his chin thoughtfully, as shaving had been the last thing on his mind during their hurried departure a couple of hours before. It was impossible to know if the ships they had just heard were bringing help or simply more reinforcements for their assailants. No, they could not take any risks and had to push on. “I don’t know,” Stefan replied to the question after a short pause. “What I do know is that we cannot afford to stop to rest, because while I have no idea what is ahead of us, I am absolutely certain who is behind us.”

  “Then we need to start looking for shelter,” Ryan replied firmly. “The days are short and the sun is going to start setting in a few more hours and, when it does, the temperature will fall dramatically. None of us have the clothing to survive the night outside. The temperature will drop to around minus thirty degrees, even here under the cover of the trees. Unless we find shelter it won’t matter who finds us, as we will all be dead from exposure.”

  Stefan looked at the two parents and the child, who was wrapped up in the one jacket the three of them possessed. He certainly hoped it was help that was on the way in those ships.

  *****

  The shuttles arrived within minutes at the Radec residence, hovering over the property like a swarm of angry bees inspecting the damage to their hive. All were stunned by the scene of devastation—the smouldering remains of the vehicles and shuttle, while the trees and grass still burned around the house. The building itself was in a bad condition, with the front of the property completely gutted from the hig
h explosive grenade. The rest of the front façade was badly damaged from pulse rifle fire. There were dead bodies strewn across the landscape. The entire scene looked like the remnants of a warzone.

  “I don’t see any movement and the shuttle is not picking up any life signs on the sensors,” Gunny commented factually. “However, this could still be a trap. I recommend that the other shuttles set down first and we get the marines to secure the area while we give cover from the air.”

  The next thing he knew there was a shuddering impact, as the shuttle’s landing gear took the full brunt of the collision with the ground. Jon was already out of the cockpit before the shuttle had even come to a rest. Paul was hot on his heels.

  “Then again, we could just throw caution to the wind and go with the full frontal assault,” Gunny said, to the now empty cockpit.

  “Jon. Wait,” Paul cried after the quickly retreating figure running determinedly towards the house. Paul sprinted after him, managing to catch his arm and pull him to a stop. At Jon’s enraged expression, Paul said, “Let Gunny and the marines go ahead and secure the house. We don’t know what is waiting for us in there.”

  “My parents could still be in there,” Jon uttered in a despairing tone.

  “And if they are, then Gunny and the marines will find them,” Paul reassured him, giving a subtle nod to Gunny, who then motioned a squad of marines ahead of him towards the house, while the rest spread out in various directions to secure the perimeter. “However, you are not going to do your parents any good by marching in and getting yourself blown up by a booby-trap wired to the front door. Let them do their job.”

  Paul thought for a moment Jon was going to argue but finally, with a resigned nod, he set off in a different direction, towards the back of the property. Paul sighed in relief, before going to find the Major in charge of the company of marines.

  A short while later, the three of them reconvened to discuss their findings. “Your parents are not in the house,” Gunny reassured him. “We have searched it from top to bottom. We found the bodies of two of the security team, who were killed by what seems like a grenade on the ground floor. The rest of the security team and your parents remain unaccounted for.”

  Standing at the edge of the property, facing the back of the house, Jon motioned towards a small trail that disappeared into the forest. “It looks like after the destruction of the shuttle, they fell back into the forest. You can see the shape of several pairs of boot marks and two smaller pairs of footprints—my parents.”

  Gunny stared in amazement at the barely visible marks in the soft grass. “How by the Great Maker did you work that out?”

  “Because it is exactly what I would have done in Captain Frasier’s position,” Jon insisted firmly. “Gunny, gather a squad of marines. We will proceed after them on foot. Make sure your men are not weighed down. We carry only what we need, as we must move swiftly.” Gunny was just about to move away to instruct the marines, when Jon called out. “And Gunny, make sure that everybody is equipped with cold weather gear.” At Gunny’s surprised look he added. “The sun will set soon and then it will get cold fast.”

  “I’m sure your parents will be fine,” Paul tried to reassure his old friend.

  “I’m less worried about the mercenaries chasing them, than the exposure,” Jon admitted in a concerned tone of voice. “They are not equipped to survive a night without shelter. If we don’t find them soon they will freeze to death.”

  Paul had nothing to say to that, and they waited anxiously the few minutes necessary for Gunny to round up a squad. Then the group of them disappeared into the forest, trailing behind his family and the mercenaries.

  *****

  “Captain,” Gunny whispered, deliberately keeping his voice down since sound easily travelled in the forest. The sun had finally set an hour before and with its departure the forest had fallen eerily quiet all around them.

  “What is it Gunny?” Paul asked distractedly, struggling to keep Jon in sight, as he was several metres ahead of the group, following the trail. Not for the first time Paul cursed the dark cloak Jon seemed to constantly surround himself with these days, as he seemed to vanish in and out of the shadows, like an apparition.

  “Where are we going?” Gunny hissed.

  Paul looked at Gunny as if he had lost his mind. “What do you mean where are we going? We are trying to catch Jon’s parents before somebody else does.”

  “I get that bit,” Gunny replied exasperatedly. “I mean where are we going? I cannot see my hand in front of my face, so how the hell is the Commander following their trail?”

  Paul understood what Gunny was saying. So caught up was he in just trying to keep pace with Jon that he had never even thought to question if Jon knew where he was going. Lengthening his stride to catch up with the younger man, he observed Jon was not even looking at the ground, but was staring intently ahead, as if he could see through the gloom. “Jon, we need to stop here for the night and resume the search in the morning.”

  “No. We keep going.”

  “Look, be reasonable, there is no way we can track them in this light. We could pass within a dozen metres of them and not even notice. We must wait for first light.”

  “They are just ahead of us, as they have stopped and set up camp for the night. We will catch up with them soon.”

  “Jon, stop for a minute and listen to yourself. I know you are worried about your parents, but you are mistaken, we can no longer even see the trail. They could be anywhere by now.”

  Paul watched Jon pause and turn to face him. For an instant it wasn’t Jon standing there, encased in the dark cloak. When Paul stared into his eyes, he could not see his old friend but something else, which was dark, unfathomable and terrifying. That image caused him to take an involuntary step back, but after he had blinked it was gone.

  “Stay here if you want,” Jon shrugged unconcernedly. “I’ll deal with them myself.” With that he turned his back on Paul and resumed his journey.

  Paul just watched the retreating figure in disbelief. Jon had always been driven, but this was different. The intensity he radiated was frightening, as if he honestly didn’t care about the armed mercenaries that were still out there, ahead of them somewhere.

  *****

  The Sergeant had finally called a halt to the group an hour after the sun had set, as there was not enough light to follow the trail. He agreed, reluctantly, to allow them to light a small fire, as he had been briefed on how low the temperature could fall on this world and it would not do them any good to die from exposure. Anyway it mattered little, as the family ahead knew they were being followed closely and it would take many more days for the civil authorities to mount any sort of search. He still insisted though, that they post watches through the night, three for each shift, until sunrise the following morning.

  Yet even with his back to a tree, facing away from the fire so not to ruin his night vision, he could not sleep. Something was bothering him, like an itch at the back of his neck he could not get rid of. A constant feeling that something was wrong. Over the years he had learnt to trust his instincts, as they had kept him alive for this long. So while the others soon fell asleep, he kept alert, his eyes open, sleep a distant thing from his mind.

  It was a few hours later when he first noticed the movement, although with the faint light from the moon and stars that pierced the canopy of the trees, visibility was poor. A patch of darkness separating from one of the trees, moving quickly but quietly towards one of the guards on watch.

  He was about to call out a warning, when he noticed other shadows appearing from the gloom. Glancing around, he quickly realised they were surrounded but, concealed as he was in the shadow of the tree, nobody had seemed to notice his presence. The warning died quickly on his lips, as it would only draw attention to his own position. Dropping silently onto his stomach he started to crawl further away from the camp, slipping through the tightening ring of shadows that had surrounded them. He was over a dozen me
tres away when he heard the first muffled cry, which was quickly consumed by the silence of the forest. Once he felt he was far enough away, he hurriedly got to his feet, moving swiftly and stealthily deeper into the forest.

  “Going somewhere?” a voice interrupted his escape, as a shadow detached itself from the darkness ahead of him, blocking his path.

  His hand instantly went to the pulse pistol at his waist then he hesitated, noticing that the figure ahead had no weapon in his hand. If he were to draw the pistol and fire, the sound of the shot would quickly attract others to his position, so he drew the knife from near his thigh, the blade as dark as the surrounding night and dropped into a combat stance.

  The figure ahead of him did not move, just continued to stare at him with an unnatural intensity. “You were the one who killed the men in the house and brought down the shuttle.” It was not so much a question, as a statement of fact.

  The announcement surprised the Sergeant and he paused in front of the figure. “Sure, that was me,” he said, with a twisted sneer. “I’m good at what I do. I guess I’m just a natural born killer.” Not pausing for an instant, he leapt at the figure in front of him, slashing at throat height, feeling the knife blade pass through the thin material of the cloak, cutting through flesh and sinew, the warm blood from the slashed jugular splashing over his face. He always felt a thrill when taking another life, the almost orgasmic feeling as their lifeblood was rushing out of them—

  He took another shuddering breath, before falling to the ground. His legs were no longer able to sustain his weight. He felt the blood flowing freely from his slashed throat and looked up in astonishment, before all blood stopped flowing to his brain. Moments before he died he thought he heard the words echo from above him.