The Last Praetorian (40 page)

Sighing out aloud, Jason finally took a seat, as the
constant pacing up and down was starting to make him feel dizzy, taking a deep
breath he started to explain, again.  “My team and I have spent the past
several weeks working on the encryption mechanism that was protecting the
computer core, retrieved by Gunny and his Marines from the Syndicate outpost.” 
Jason tipped his head towards Gunny in deference to their heroic actions in not
just retrieving the core, but also helping to free dozens of captives,
otherwise likely to be sold into a lifetime of servitude.

“The computer core was heavily damaged during the
retrieval…” 

“Not our fault,” Gunny protested mildly.  “The laser cutters
were taking too long, so we fell back to the tried and trusted method of
blowing the doors, we did have Syndicate reinforcements breathing down our
back, and our ride was departing…”

“I’m sure Gunny and his Marines did the best job they could
under very trying circumstances,” Jon suggested mildly, encouraging Jason to
continue.

“Next time could I suggest a screwdriver…?” Jason grumbled,
but carried on anyway.  “Along with the physical damage to the core, it would
seem that syndicate personnel were busy trying to erase the contents of the
core remotely.  Frankly it’s miraculous that my team managed to retrieve
anything.”

“We all gratefully appreciate the absolutely stellar effort
on behalf of you and your team,” Miranda interjected before Jon could respond. 
“However, perhaps we could actually get to the crux of the matter? I’ve been
led to understand that imminent doom will be arriving shortly, and would hate
to die in breathless anticipation of not actually knowing why… ”

Jon had to cover the smirk spreading across his face with
his hand, he could not have put it better himself.  It was obvious that Miranda
had been spending
way
too much time with him and his sarcasm had started
to rub-off on her.

“Anyway,” Jason continued giving Miranda an angry glare. 
“As requested, getting to the point, most of the data core was too badly
damaged or just plain erased to recover much, however we did manage to retrieve
something from the communication sub-routine.  It would seem whoever coded it
introduced a bug in the encryption/decryption algorithm and the pointer for the
decrypted voice stream was not being correctly destroyed and hence missed by
the memory resident garbage collector.”  The sea of confused faces peering back
along the length of the table, suggested to Jason that the majority of the room
did not understand a word of that.

“It wasn’t deleted properly and we recovered some of the
voice communications from the buffer,” Jason summarised.  General nods from
around the table at least acknowledged understanding of the summary. 
“Fortunately we managed to strike lucky with regard to one of the messages, we
don’t have any visual, just the audio stream and it’s fragmented.  The stream
does not have any markers denoting origin, destination or timing and it’s
difficult to put into context but the content of the message is clear.  They
clearly refer to the Commander, several times, in particularly unflattering
terms…”

There was a couple of knowing smiles and nodding of heads from
around the table in sympathy.  Most people who knew Jon had come away after
meeting him, calling him very unflattering names.

“…The participants in the call also referred to the recent
attack, referring to it as an initial surgical strike against the leadership,
to disorientate, demoralise and paralyse our command structure in preparation
for the final assault.  They do not go into much detail regarding forces and
timing, beyond that it would take time to gather
the fleet
although they
make it clear that
Terra Nova
is the intended final destination, with
the primary objective being the Commander’s capture, or death.”  With these
final words the Lieutenant fell silent, the room deathly quiet as they
considered the enormity of the situation facing them.

Leaning back in his chair Jon voiced his thoughts aloud. 
“Well it does answer some unanswered questions, for example why they cut power
to my quarters.  At the time I thought it an act of stupidity as, by doing so,
they lost the tactical element of surprise.  However, if I was their main
objective all along…it makes sense; we had just assumed that their target was
Vanguard and the station…but that raises a new question…”

“…Why you,” Paul interjected. 

Jon nodded thoughtfully.  “While I obviously drew enough
attention from the Syndicate that they sent an assassin after me,” Jon nodded
his head in Miranda’s direction warmly.  “To which I am in the Syndicate’s
debt,” he added with a smirk. 

Miranda just laughed.

“Perhaps there is a clue within the message, with the
constant use of your rank?”  Paul mused.  “It’s interesting that is the only
way they refer to you, not by your first name, last name, not even by your
company title, that could be meaningful.”

Thinking for a moment, Jon shook his head discouragingly. 
“I’m not sure what we can infer from it, while we refer to each other by rank
frequently, it’s a force of habit.  Having been in the Navy for so long I do it
subconsciously.  Outside of us, I never use it.  I simply refer to myself by
name or use my company title of Chief Executive.”

“That’s my exact point.”

“You think that one or more of the participants on the call
was ex-Navy?”  Jon asked surprised, as the thought had never occurred to him
before.

“Not necessarily ex-Navy, but ex-military certainly.  After
all we were not the only ones to find ourselves unemployed after the
Confederation disbanded the Imperial Fleet.”

Jon looked at his chief of operations morosely, it was bad
enough to be facing a significant but unknown threat to their existence, but it
would be an order of magnitude worse if the Syndicate were now also employing
disbanded Imperial forces.

“Well, this is all idle speculation at the moment,” Jon
stated emphatically.  “Let’s not go borrowing additional trouble.  Lieutenant
is there any additional intelligence that you or your team can offer.  The
make-up of the fleet that is on its way perhaps?”  Jon inquired wishfully at
the young intelligence officer.

“No sir,” Jason replied emphatically.  “My team and I are
trying to compile a list of Syndicate ships that have escaped the
Confederation, however it’s an endless task as we never had a comprehensive
list of their ships in the first place.  Too many dummy corporate fronts,
unregistered owners, cross-ownership deals.  It would take a lifetime to
untangle that mess, although I would refer to their use of the term
fleet
with some concern, as this does suggest a significant number of ships.  By now
they must have at least some idea of our capabilities and have prepared
accordingly.”

“A very sobering thought, thanks Jason,” Jon replied.  “What
are our options people?”  Jon addressed the question to the remaining senior
staff.

“Let them come,” Gunny replied confidently.  “We have kicked
their asses every time we have encountered one another, I have no reason to
doubt that this time will be any different.  We have been forewarned, they have
already lost the tactical element of surprise, and we have enough time to dig
in, my Marines are waiting - bring ’em on!”

“Thanks Gunny,” Jon responded dryly.  “I’m glad that you’re
on our side.”

“While I have full confidence in Gunny, our Marines and
David’s station security,” Paul hedged.  “We have to face the fact that we are
no longer in the Imperial Fleet, we are just not equipped to dig in and wait
for reinforcements.  At some point they are going to being able to muster
enough ships to simply overwhelm our station defences and us.  At that point
they don’t even need to board the station, they can just shoot holes in us from
a distance, until we surrender or there is none of us left alive.  David, you
were working on some different tactical scenarios several weeks back trying to
guess the Syndicate response.  I would suggest that those are still valid, what
did you come up with?”

As all eyes in the room turned to face Lieutenant McNeill,
he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.  “My team and I worked up several
tactical scenarios,” he confirmed.  “These varied in size from a single ship,
executing a covert infiltration of the station, up to a full division sized
assault.”

Jon rolled his eyes sarcastically.  “I think I suggested at
the time that a full divisional assault, with up to a thousand armed assailants
was most unlikely,” Jon interjected.

“We had to consider
all
the various tactical
scenarios, sir,” David responded stiffly.

“I hope you did not discount invasion by armed hostile
aliens then.”

“No, sir, there was a tactical scenario for that.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No sir.”

All that could be heard in the silent briefing room was the
dull thuds as Jon repeatedly banged his head against the briefing room table in
despair.  Rubbing his now sore head Jon finally replied.  “Look I think we are
once again veering off the topic here.  What’s your point Paul?”

“We need to request assistance from the Confederation Navy.”

“No.”

“Is that your pride speaking, your personal animosity for
the Confederation, a Confederation that you helped found, I should remind you,
or because that you recently found out that Sofia is now in charge of the afore
mentioned Confederation and you do not want her involved.”

Jon eye’s turned dark and he gave his executive officer an
angry gaze.

“One minute, back up a bit, you were
also
involved in
the founding of the Confederation?”  Miranda asked in complete disbelief.  “Is
there any significant historical event over the past twenty years that you were
not
intimately involved in?”

Jon momentarily tore his eyes away from his executive
officer, who he had already decided was going to receive an earful from him as soon
as they were alone.  “It’s not relevant.”

The look of astonishment on Miranda’s face told Jon exactly
what she thought of that response!  “What do you mean it’s not relevant?  How can
your intimate involvement in the birth of the Confederation, the greatest
political act since, since, the founding of the Empire, over five centuries
ago,
not to be relevant?
”

“We’re getting off the topic again,” Jon replied.  He
realised that he had been saying that a lot in the past hour, but they still
had not formulated a response to the current imminent threat.  “While I am
in-charge we are not going to involve the Confederation Navy, and that’s
final!”

“While you are in charge…” Paul parroted, angling his head
towards Miranda, seated at the head of the conference table.

“So if standing and fighting is not an option, nor is
involving Confederation military, what other options are open to us?”  Jon
inquired, purposefully ignoring Paul’s earlier quip.

“In a number of the tactical scenarios that we ran through
the computer, defeat was pretty much guaranteed,” David said.  “In those
scenarios the suggested course of action was to retreat…” suddenly it occurred
to David that with the calibre of the people sitting around this table, the
word
retreat
was just not a word in their lexicon.  “…tactically
withdraw,” David finally settled upon.

“We’re just going to run away and give them
Terra Nova
,
our home?”  Miranda responded in outrage, voicing the thought that was
obviously on many a mind around the table.

“Better to live today and fight another day,” David replied
uncomfortably aware that there seemed to be little enthusiasm for this option
around the table.  “There is no honour in getting needlessly killed,” he added.

“Nobody is taking
Terra Nova
,” Jon said firmly to
nods around the table.  “At least not intact.  However, we need to remember
that there are almost 300 lives at risk here, including almost a third of the
inhabitants of the station are woman and children.  I
will not put them at
risk.
  Not even for my personal pride,” Jon replied angrily throwing his
operations chief’s words back in his face. 

Paul meanwhile had the good grace to look down, ashamed that
he had doubted his old friend.

“Hence we hope for the best but prepare for the worst,” Jon
quoted the phrase that most military commanders had lived by since the dawn of
modern warfare.  “We prepare for the full evacuation of the station, and I mean
the full evacuation,” Jon put the emphasis on the last two words giving Gunny a
penetrating gaze.  “That includes you and your Marines Gunny.  We are not going
to have any heroically suicidal last stands while I am still in charge.  When
the Syndicate fleet arrives we will re-evaluate the tactical situation, and if
it’s hopeless we withdraw.”  Jon met each of his senior staff gazes, one-by-one
to ensure that they all understood.  “Nobody, and I mean nobody, takes
Terra
Nova
from us,” Jon emphasised.  “If it comes to that I’ll drop the magnetic
containment for the fusion reactor and they can try and capture the remaining
dust fragments of the station for all I care!”

While nobody relished the orders, the senior staff all
acknowledged them, understanding that while they were all emotionally attached
to the station, that they had all come to call home for the past few years,
that it was not worth their lives. 

Acknowledging the nods around the table, albeit some of them
hesitant, Jon finally turned back to Jason who had eventually stopped pacing
the room and fallen reluctantly into a seat.

“Do you have a copy of the audio recording that you
recovered from the Syndicate computer core?”

“Yes sir, although it’s not particularly good quality, we
had to put it through the computer’s scrubbers several times to try and piece
it back together.”