The Last Praetorian (39 page)

The change in Miranda had been even more stunning, as her
self-confidence began to grow, a wicked sense of humour emerged in the young
woman.

Probably a little over-confident
, Jon thought
observing the bold young woman who had just strolled into his quarter’s
unannounced.

“You have plans for the evening?”  Jon inquired, motioning
towards her bold wardrobe choice. Wearing a bright red silk blouse, black
pencil skirt, that nicely showed off her endless legs, with her hair tied-back
she looked more like a fashion model than the interim CEO of Vanguard.

“Dinner and drinks with the senior staff tonight,” Miranda
replied reclining in the only other chair in the room, a small couch that Jon
had only included so that Paul could take a seat, when they did drinks in his
quarters.

“
What
dinner and drinks with the senior staff?  I
never
had dinner and drinks with the senior staff!”

“Exactly my point,” Miranda insisted.  “Hence why dinner and
drinks with the senior staff is long overdue!  Everybody has confirmed that they
will be there tonight.”

Eyeing the young woman and her bold ensemble, Jon could well
understand how the entire male complement of the senior staff would be jostling
to be first in line to dinner.  Jon briefly contemplated whether there was time
before dinner for a quick memo to all
senior staff, that anybody caught
ogling
the new boss would be first out the airlock in the morning.

“You are welcome to join us…” Miranda proposed tentatively. 

Jon would have choked at the proposition if he had been
fortunate enough to be eating at the time.  Unfortunately he had not eaten yet,
so had to settle instead on giving her a surprised look and replied. 
“Unfortunately I have a prior engagement, but please you go ahead…”

It was Miranda’s turn to get him a quizzical look.  “By a
prior engagement, you mean that you are eating dinner in your quarters – alone.
The same thing you do every evening, except when you and Paul are getting
roaring drunk together, or you are unconscious in sickbay after being stabbed…?”

Damn!  Busted.

Instead Jon just shrugged depreciatingly.  “You know the old
saying, the loneliness of command.”

Miranda just stared at Jon in frustration.  She had been
totally confident as she strode into his quarters that she would be able to
entice him to come to the party.  Even if she had been advised otherwise by
everybody on the station, from Paul downwards. 

Jon meanwhile was contemplating an evening socialising with
the senior staff with something akin to a panic attack.  Going along he had the
option of acting like a wallflower the entire evening, avoiding any sort of
conversation at all.  The alternative was to engage with his senior officers, in
small talk!

“Hi Jon, how are you?”  “Good thanks, the knife wound is
healing well.”

“Been seeing anybody recently?” “No, not since I betrayed
and then abandoned my last girlfriend.  You might have heard of her, no?  She
is now the Confederation President.”

“How is business?” “Not bad after going into business for
myself.  You see my last boss was murdered when I should have been protecting
him, and I then got my entire squadron killed, and the boss’ daughter almost
raped and killed.”

Jon went completely pale at the thought, focusing on keeping
his stomach firmly under control, since it felt like somebody had just dropped
a hot lead ball into it.

Belatedly recognising Jon’s expression, Miranda realised
that the entire idea had been ill conceived, but dammit the senior staff had
earned themselves a break, not everybody was a hard, relentless, unfeeling
machine like Jon.  As soon as she had thought it, Miranda wished she could take
the thought back, realising that it was not true.  Jon had feelings, probably a
lot stronger, deeper ones than most, he just buried them deep inside.  Miranda
wondered what it would take to get an emotional reaction from the man sitting
across from her.  A man that Miranda realised she had developed her own strong feelings
for.

“There will be dancing afterwards, you do know how to dance
don’t you?”  Miranda tried one final time, this time she got a reaction
however, just not the reaction that she had been expecting.

Surprise flared in Jon’s eyes, followed closely by shock,
then hurt.  “No, I don’t dance,” Jon finally replied turning his head away.  “I
haven’t danced in a long time,” he whispered softly to himself, lost deeply in
the past, both real and imaginary.

“Then now is a good time as any! I need to practice before
the party, as I am a little rusty.  Just one dance, please?”  Miranda asked
taking Jon’s hand in hers, pulling him to his feet.  For a moment Miranda
thought that Jon was going to pull away, but she had his hand in a firm grip,
and knew that Jon was too much a gentleman, too much an officer to push her
away.  Instead Jon firmly, but gently, enclosed his hand around hers and
stepping away from the desk moved in closer and encircled her waist with his
other hand.

Somewhat taken by surprise at the smooth move, Miranda was
about to propose that they wait a minute while she put some music on, when much
to her surprise Jon started to move.  Gliding around the dark quarters, the
only light coming from the stars shining through Jon’s viewport. Miranda was
mesmerised as Jon seemed to set a pace and rhythm that was playing in his head
alone, sometimes slowing to almost a halt, other times the pair almost flew
across the room.

If this were his idea of not being able to dance, I would
love to see something he is good at!
Miranda thought to herself.

Taking the opportunity during one of the slow portions,
Miranda looked up into Jon’s eyes and was astonished to see the emotion shining
through.  Love, sadness, regrets…pain.  Miranda had never seen such expressions
on Jon’s face before, always before his misty grey eyes seemed to obscure
whatever he was thinking or feeling, but for a brief moment the mist seemed to
clear and it felt like Miranda could look down, into his very soul, and the
pain and sorrow that she saw there took her breath away.

Finally the song in Jon’s head seemed to slowly wind down,
and they slowly danced in ever-smaller circles, until they finally came to a
rest, with Miranda pressed intimately against Jon.  Still Jon stared into
Miranda’s eyes as if preoccupied.  Slowly, ever so slowly, Jon lowered his
mouth towards Miranda’s waiting lips.  Miranda let her eyes flutter shut;
awaiting his warm lips when suddenly a loud chime interrupted the moment.

Startled, Miranda’s gaze flashed open, gazing into the eyes
of Jon who was looking at her with surprise, and confusion.  Shaking his head,
as if to clear his mind, Jon released his hold on her and took a step away.  “Come!”
he called, his voice sounding rough to Miranda’s ears.

Jason stepped into his quarters; his eyes instantly taking
in the scene, the two of them barely a foot apart, in the middle of Jon’s
quarters, both wearing flushed and heated looks.  This time it was Jason to
wonder what he had interrupted…

“Sirs?” he inquired carefully, not sure what he had
interrupted, or how he should address the pair.  But Miranda peeled away,
disappearing into the washroom, leaving Jason and Jon alone. Jon’s gaze
followed the younger woman into the washroom before the door quietly slid shut,
again shaking his head as if trying to awake from a particularly surreal dream.
Jon turned his attention back to the Lieutenant.

“I’m sorry for arriving unannounced,” Jason apologised, once
again glancing at the washroom, again wondering
just
what he had
interrupted.  “But this is extremely important.”

Jon was curious at what the intelligence officer wanted to
discuss, as Jon could not remember the young man ever being this agitated
before.  Jon motioned towards the empty seat that Miranda had been occupying
moments before.  Jon could not exactly remember what had happened after that. 
He remembered dancing with Sofia?  Miranda?  He could not be exactly sure, as
everything seemed to blur together.

Jason ignored the offered seat and started to pace the
length of the room anxiously, as he explained.  “Commander, we have only just
managed to break the encryption protecting the Syndicate computer core that the
Marines recovered.”

For a moment Jon was confused at what the young officer was
referring to, finally he recollected the original primary purpose of the raid
on the Syndicate outpost was to retrieve the computer core for intelligence. 
Honestly, Jon had completely forgotten about the computer core as this was
overshadowed by recent events, namely the rescuing of the captives, the
collapse of the Syndicate throughout the inhabited systems and the more recent
retaliation by the Syndicate.

“We’ve uncovered intelligence regarding an imminent attack
on the station,” Jason went on to explain.

“We are already aware of that, Lieutenant,” Jon replied with
a sigh.  “We already halted that attack, killed the Syndicate shock troops and
destroyed their captured ship.”  Jon explained, amazed that Intelligence could
be so blind to events unfolding around them.

Jason just blinked once in surprise.  “Not
that
attack Commander, that was just the diversion to distract us.  I’m talking
about the fleet currently en route here, its objective is
you
!”

Jon just blinked in surprise, before motioning once again to
the chair.  “I think you had better take a seat Lieutenant and explain. From
the beginning this time…”

*****

Meanwhile Miranda splashed cool water onto her flushed
cheeks, staring into her own wide-eyed face, reflected back at her in the
mirror.  She was asking herself what the hell had just happened, or nearly just
happened.  Following Paul’s revelations about Jon during their discussions in
his office, while Jon had been recuperating in medical, Miranda had set herself
the challenge of breaking him free from his self-imposed isolation.

Hence taking every opportunity presented, Miranda spent time
with him, often on the pretence of getting his opinion on a certain decision,
continually trying to involve him in the social fabric of the station.  However,
Jon seemed to rebuff her at every turn, always having an excuse or other
pretext at hand to avoid the particular occasion…until this evening.  For some
reason her request for a dance seemed to completely slip past all the defences
he had built… and the dance!  Nobody had ever held her like that, looked at her
with such complete adoration… or had he?

Sure Jon seemed to be present, in body at least, but his
mind, his spirit, his heart?  Miranda feared that they were many years away, in
distance or time, she did not know.  What she did know was that for a moment,
just a brief instant she had managed to make a crack in his thick emotional
armour and was able to peer inside and see the
real
Jonathan Radec and
what she had seen left her wanting more, so much more.

While Jon came across as cold, aloof and uncaring Miranda
now knew that this was just his defence mechanism to stop anybody getting too
close, too personal.  From the brief glimpse that she got of the real person,
she could see a warm, understanding, caring man.  Somebody who would respect
her for who
she was, support her and be a partner in every possible
meaning of the word.

Miranda pitied this Princess, who having reached the
pinnacle of power in the Confederation, having every advantage, every privilege,
but still was unable to retain this man.  Therefore confident that she would
not make the same mistakes as this other woman. Miranda dried her face and
confirming that her hair was still immaculate left the washroom to determine
what news the intelligence officer had to bring them.  Somehow she doubted that
it was good.

*****

Jon looked up at the sound of the door sliding open and
Miranda re-entered the room, a warm smile meeting his concerned gaze.  Miranda
gave a slight nod in response to Jon’s unvoiced question inquiring if she was ok. 
Jon stood at her approach and once again offered her his hand in an unconscious
peace offering at brushing her off so coldly upon being interrupted earlier.

Gladly taking the offered hand Miranda was about to inquire
to the reason for the Lieutenant’s earlier interruption, when Jon explained.

“It looks like I
will
be joining you and the senior
staff this evening after all.”  On seeing the raised eyebrow from Miranda, Jon
expanded.  “It would seem that somebody wants me dead...”

“In that case they should take a ticket and get in line. 
What is it about you that everybody who ever meets you wants you dead?”

“Not a clue,” Jon replied with a shake of his head.  “Just
my winning personality I guess.”

Still hand-in-hand the young couple exited Jon’s quarters in
the direction of the senior staff briefing room, with the young intelligence
officer in tow, eyeing their joined hands speculatively.

*****

“And you are sure that it’s Jon personally they are after?” 
Paul interjected after Lieutenant Edgar quickly recounted the story once again
for the benefit of the now present senior staff.

It had been quite an evening of shocks for the senior staff,
as having arrived, expecting canapés and drinks with the new interim CEO, they
had been stunned at the sight of the new boss entering on the arm of their
previous boss, only to have dinner and drinks cancelled, to be informed that
there was an emergency situation, yes another one, as they had a fleet of
incoming hostile ships with the sole objective of taking Jon dead or alive.  The
consensus among the group was that dead was probably the preferred option.

“Perhaps you should start again, from the beginning, uh,
again,” Jon stated scratching his chin, wondering if that phrase actually made
any sense.