Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy)

by Mike Smith

  “Not anymore.”

  *****

  Having been unable to find any shelter and the three of them too exhausted to be able to continue, they found themselves in a natural hollow in the ground. Stefan had lined it as best he could with leaves and branches from the surrounding trees. They had then huddled together, with the boy in the middle, trying to share body heat as best as they could. Even though the boys was wrapped in the jacket, Stefan could feel him shivering. As the boy was the smallest, Stefan knew his body would not retain heat for long and that soon his shivering would stop, only to be followed by hyperthermia. If his body temperature fell much lower, then his body would soon start shutting down and eventually his heart would stop. Stefan didn’t doubt the rest of them would last much longer.

  A sound of a twig snapping several metres away warmed his body, as adrenalin and endorphins flooding though his blood stream. The sound of his pistol firing reverberated through the forest. The approaching sound suddenly stopped, replaced a moment later by a voice calling out.

  “Friendlies. Hold your fire.”

  Stefan did hold his fire, but his pistol still pointed unwaveringly in the direction of the sound as he called back. “Identify yourselves.”

  A moment later another voice called out. “It’s Jonathan Radec. Are my parents with you?”

  Stefan looked into the shocked expression of first Ryan and then Irene. “It could be a trap,” he reminded them, thinking for a moment before calling back. “How do I really know it is you? Anybody could use that name.”

  “I had a younger sister, Catherine. She died when I was twelve. Ask my parents anything about her, something that only they and I would know.”

  After a hurried, whispered conversation Stefan called back. “What did your sister use to call you and what did she say that you needed?”

  The silence to that question seemed to last an eternity, before they heard muttering. “For God’s sake why couldn’t they have just asked me her favourite colour or something?” The voice went silent for a moment, before it called back loudly, tinged with embarrassment. “My sister thought that I was a prince and I needed to get a horse.” The silence was broken soon after, by several sniggers from the surrounding darkness.

  “Jon,” Irene called out as she, followed closely by her husband, stumbled out of the hole, with Stefan reluctantly following behind.

  What followed in the next few minutes was a joyous reunion, only tempered by their current situation. Embracing his mother, Jon was shocked to notice a small figure in her arms. A small, angelic face, with startling blue eyes, peering out from a coat that was at least a dozen sizes too large for him.

  “Cold,” the little boy complained, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

  Before Jon could reply, his father interrupted him. “We need to find some shelter or at least get a fire started. We’ve all lost too much body heat already.”

  Jon looked around the small clearing desperately, but knew that there was no shelter. The forest continued on for many hundreds of kilometres and the nearest shelter was Carrington City, at least a dozen kilometres back the way that they had just come. He doubted any of his family would make it that far. Making a snap decision, he turned back to Paul and Gunny.

  “We need to get them into the warm. Signal the shuttles.”

  Paul looked around the small clearing with a worried expression. “There is not enough space to land a shuttle, considering how dense the foliage is around here.”

  Jon nodded his head in agreement. “I had already thought of that. We need to clear a space large enough for a shuttle to land. Gunny,” Jon shouted. “Take a couple of men to a safe distance, then signal the fleet. We need orbital fire support. I want them to clear us an area of forest for the shuttles.”

  Gunny nodded his head in approval, hurrying to collect what he needed before departing with a few marines. The remaining marines started to set up camp, distributing blankets and self-heating emergency rations to the family.

  “I hope that you know what you are doing, Jon,” Paul replied dubiously. “The last time the fleet opened fire on a planet it didn’t work out too well for us.”

  *****

  “Captain,” the Communications Officer shouted out across the command deck. “I am receiving an orbital-fire support request from the ground assault team. Highest Priority.”

  “Tactical,” the Captain relayed the request. “Bring our forward gun batteries on-line and prepare to receive targeting coordinates—”

  “Delay that order,” Admiral Romanov interrupted him, turning to face the Communications Officer from where the request had originated. “Authenticate that request. This fleet has already fired upon our own once before and I have no plans to repeat that mistake. For all we know we could be firing on our own assault team. Confirm that fire request is valid first.”

  The Communications Officer nodded his head, suitably chastised and reopened the communication channel to confirm that the request was indeed valid. After several more minutes he turned back to the Admiral, responding. “I’ve confirmed the validity of the request, Admiral. It’s definitely from the ground assault team. They are requesting orbital-fire support to clear a landing zone for the shuttles and have asked for immediate medical evacuation for some civilians.”

  The Admiral raised an eyebrow at the unusual request, but nodded her head in the direction of the Captain to indicate that he could proceed. She assumed the order came from Jon, as only he would think of using a railgun, orbiting almost six hundred kilometres overhead, to clear a landing zone.

  “Ready to fire,” the Tactical Officer reported, after checking the targeting coordinates twice, ensuring the ground assault team and civilians would remain unharmed.

  “The ground team is requesting a firing hold of at least five minutes, while they get to a safe distance. Scratch that, they are requesting a ten minute hold to be doubly safe.”

  Anna had to work on keeping her face expressionless. “Let the ground team know we will give them an ample amount of time before we start shooting at them,” she confirmed with a straight face, biting her cheek to stop from laughing.

  *****

  “The fleet have acknowledged the request, Sarge, and confirm they will give us sufficient time to get to a safe distance before they start shooting,” the young Corporal shouted down from the tree tops.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Gunny muttered under his breath. “Now hurry up Corporal and get back down here and we’ll head back. ”

  “Uh, Sarge?”

  “Yes Corporal?”

  “Why am I the one who had to climb the thirty foot tree?”

  Gunny looked up at the Corporal, who was hidden somewhere in the upper branches. “You don’t think I’m going up there do you? I leave climbing trees to the younger generation. I’d break my goddamn neck getting down from up there. Now double-time it Corporal as we are currently standing at ground zero of the targeting coordinates we just gave the fleet,” he growled.

  The two of them just about made it back to the camp when their allocated time ran out and, with a loud “Incoming,” from one of the marines, the group dived to the ground, as what appeared like a glowing meteorite flashed overhead, impacting a kilometre away. In the distance the horizon flashed a bright white, and were it not for the fact everybody was already on the ground, none of them would have been left standing after the impact. A few seconds later, a hot blast of wind came whistling through the trees, blowing dust and leaves everywhere.

  Once everything had calmed down again, the group staggered to their feet, collected their gear and hurried in the direction of the blast.

  “Ma’am, may I help you with the boy?” Paul politely asked Jon’s mother.

  “Why yes Paul, that is very kind of you,” Irene replied. “My, what a polite and courteous young man you are,” she added, glaring at Jon, who had been eyeing the boy uncomfortably since their arrival. Paul took the boy, who was still wrapped in the thick jacket with an addit
ional blanket around him to give him extra warmth. The boy’s head peered out from a small gap, obviously curious to see what was happening. Irene looked at the pair in astonishment before commenting. “You two share exactly the same eye colour. I am sure he will be a hit with the ladies when he grows older.”

  Paul’s cheeks went a bright red. Jon, meanwhile, just rolled his eyes at the unsubtle dig at his lack of assistance, before turning back to finish his conversation with the marines.

  Twenty minutes later the group arrived at a large clearing where the impact had vaporised the surrounding trees. They could already make out the waiting shuttles, ready to carry them back to the fleet.

  With a final salute to Jon, the marines hurried ahead to the shuttles, which lifted them up and climbing away from the now much smaller group. Jon and his party were left alone in the still smouldering clearing.

  “I thought that the plan was to get everybody on board the shuttles and get them to safety. Not for us to be abandoned here,” Paul replied with some concern, looking first at Jon’s family still wrapped in the blankets and then the now deserted clearing.

  “That’s still the plan. We just have a different destination that’s all,” Jon explained, glancing around the clearing. The sun was just starting to appear over the horizon giving some thin, watery light. “I still don’t trust the fleet, and I want to get my parents to a place that I know is safe. Those assault shuttles aren’t equipped with faster-than-light engines and so we need something a little bigger. Where the hell is she? ’Light!” Jon called out loud.

  Gunny sidled up closer to Paul and quipped, “Do you think that the man has finally snapped under the pressure?”

  Paul just gave Gunny an evil look, which turned into one of astonishment when suddenly the air in front of them seemed to shimmer, as if through a heat haze. Where moments before nothing had stood, now the unmistakable outline of a ship could be seen. “What the hell?” Paul muttered, in astonishment.

  “Our transport.” Jon pointed towards the white shuttle, gleaming in the early morning sunlight.

  “But how—?” Paul enquired, then snapped his mouth shut.

  “The problem isn’t getting her to come, it is trying to get her to stay.” Jon muttered, as he ushered the rest of the group on board the shuttle. The door slid shut behind him as he stepped aboard. “Next stop, Terra Nova,” Jon announced to the still stunned passengers.

  Chapter Nine

  Terra Nova Station, Aquila System

  It seemed as if the entire station had turned out to greet the arrival of the shuttle. It was only by pushing and shoving her way through the crowd, and by some judicious use of her sharp elbows, that Miranda finally made it to the front. So overcome with relief was she upon seeing Jon step out of the shuttle, alive and what seemed like mostly unharmed, that Miranda completely forgot about propriety and promptly threw herself into his arms.

  Jon smiled, catching the young woman, the sight of her banishing some of the pain in his heart, if only temporarily. “You know, one of these days you are going to catch me unawares and we are then both going to go crashing to the floor. It’s so good to see you again Miranda,” he added, embracing her tightly.

  Miranda felt herself relax, as at last she was in Jon’s arms, for the first time since she had received the horrific news about the attack on Eden Prime. At the time she had been burying herself in work, as she knew the time of the wedding was fast approaching and she had not wanted to dwell on the realisation Jon would forever be lost to her. She had known for a long time his heart belonged to another, but for that short period of time together on this station, he had been all hers.

  Looking up from his neck, where she had been breathing in his scent—smoky and earthy, unique to him—she found herself being stared at by two pairs of eyes, closely observing their joyous reunion. It was only when she looked harder that she realised it was actually three pairs, as a third, frightened but curious, peered out through a gap in a large jacket that was wrapped around him. Red-faced with embarrassment, she quickly released her grip on Jon and took a step back, leaving him free to do the introductions.

  “Miranda, these are my parents,” Jon explained. “They will be staying here on Terra Nova for a while, at least until the present crisis is resolved. Mum, Dad, this is Miranda Sun, Interim CEO of Vanguard and currently in charge of Terra Nova.”

  After introductions were quickly made, Miranda noticed Jon’s parents were still looking at her with questioning expressions on their faces, and wondered just how she was expected to explain to them about her relationship with their son. With the bemused look Jon was giving her, she knew he was not going to be any help whatsoever.

  “Miranda, has the Doc arrived back from Eden Prime yet?”

  “Yes, he arrived a few days ago.”

  “Good. In that case, please take my family to medical and have him give them a thorough check-up. Once he has given them a clean bill of health, can you find some suitable quarters for them, as they will all be staying here for a while. After that please come to my quarters, there is something that we need to discuss, in private.” Jon deliberately ignored his parents, whose ears picked up at his last words. He would be glad to pass them over to Miranda and let her answer their incessant questions. As the couple passed him by, following Miranda in the direction of medical, Jon caught his father by the arm in a firm grip. “Not you Dad,” he added. “You and I are going to have our own private chat. Right now.”

  “But don’t you want me to go to medical? My health is not what it used to be son, I could—”

  “You’ll be fine Dad,” Jon interrupted him, pulling him in the opposite direction to where Miranda, his mother and the boy were going, as his father looked longingly at the rapidly retreating group. “Anyway,” he added. “I’ve got some much better medicine than what the Doc has on offer.”

  *****

  A couple of minutes later, Jon was pointing to the empty seat in his old office, now Miranda’s he reluctantly admitted to himself, and went hunting through her desk drawers. “Here it is,” he proclaimed, withdrawing the half-full bottle of Scotch from the bottom drawer of the desk and poured some into two crystal tumblers before sliding one across the desk towards his father.

  His father, meanwhile, didn’t seem to notice, as his gaze was drawn to the large, gaping void in the office. “I hate to break it to you son, but I think somebody has stolen a piece of your station from you.”

  With a laugh, Jon explained to his father how he preferred this visage.

  “Well if you’re sure, son,” his father replied dubiously. “I would hate to see what would happen if you had a power failure in this section.”

  “I think that would solve a lot of people’s problems, mine definitely included,” Jon sighed tiredly, pressing the glass against his forehead for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the cool glass resting against his overheated skin. “Now, who is the boy?” he demanded, getting straight to the point.

  “I don’t think I am the best person to answer that. Perhaps your mother…?” Ryan replied evasively, taking a large gulp of Scotch.

  “Stop avoiding the question and just tell me,” Jon said irritably. “What’s his name? I cannot keep going around referring to him simply as ‘the boy’.”

  “Marcus,” came back the whispered reply, his father not even looking him in the eye, preferring instead to draw random shapes on the desk.

  Jon, meanwhile, was trying not to choke on the sip of Scotch he had just taken, as it seemed to be doing its best to come back up his throat. “He’s called what?” Jon croaked.

  “Marcus,” came back the equally quiet whisper. “His full name is Marcus Aurelius II,” Ryan explained in a louder voice, resigned to the fact of the impending explosion.

  “That's not possible,” Jon uttered aloud. “He is too young to be Marcus’ son…” His voice trailed off as the full realisation hit him like a fist in the gut, his face blanching, as he reached out to the corner of the desk to support
his weight. “He’s Sofia’s son isn’t he?” he added, dropping into the seat opposite before his legs gave out entirely. He didn’t even need to look up to see the confirmation in his father’s face.

  “She came to us with him about four years ago. She was completely distraught, told us there was nobody else for her to turn to, nobody else to help her. She begged us, Jon. She got down on her hands and knees in front of your mother and I and asked us to take the boy. To look after him, keep him safe and to love him. She kept saying there was nobody else.”

  “But why? Why didn’t she come to me?” Jon asked out loud in amazement. “I would have—” he stopped, as he realised why Sofia would not have come to him. “Who's the father?” he demanded, his voice changing from hurt to anger. “Goddamn it, Dad, answer me!” Jon slammed his fist on the table hard enough to make the glasses on it rattle. “Who is the father?” he enunciated each word clearly.

  “I don’t know,” his father finally confessed. “She wouldn’t tell us. Sofia just said the father didn’t want her or the baby.”

  Jon stumbled to his feet, desperately struggling for breath. He walked to the energy field that protected the office. Reaching inside his uniform, he brought out Sofia’s wedding ring, which he had attached to a chain so he could wear it round his neck. In that way it would always be close to him, resting against his heart. He remembered the final conversation he had with her, as she had desperately tried to tell him something. But all Jon could recall was the look in her eyes. The look of stark fear and terror that he would not understand and would reject her if he knew the truth. For while she had told him on the Protector that there was nobody else, obviously that did not preclude the fact there had been another person, once.

  Somebody she had a child with.

  Jon felt an overwhelming need to break something but, unlike him, Miranda kept her office spotless. Hence his half-finished glass of Scotch had to suffice, exploding into a million crystal fragments as it impacted against the wall. Without even a glance backwards Jon strode from his office, leaving his father alone.