The Last Praetorian (42 page)

“And what of all the others on the station, Jon?”  Paul
threw back in his face.  “Remember that there are almost 300 lives at risk here. 
I
will not put them at risk?
  What happened to that lofty goal?”

Jon stared at Paul furiously before replying.  “I’ll deal
with Harkov myself, nobody will be ordered to stand at my side when that fleet
arrives.”  With that final word, Jon pushed back his seat and stormed out of
the briefing room, his anger a palpable cloud, swirling around behind him.

Paul watched with a worried expression as the door slid shut
in his wake.  Unfortunately the rest of the crew did not share Jon’s little
self-worth.  Paul knew with absolute certainty that not one member of the crew
was going to leave if Jon insisted on remaining behind to face the fleet
alone.  Paul remained in the briefing room long after Jon’s departure facing
some very unpalatable decisions.      

*****

It was late into the night, station time, with his wife and
children long since retired to bed; Paul tiredly sat down at his desk, his hand
hovering over the communication console.

Paul had never knowingly betrayed Jon, except for that one
time when emotion had overcome reason.  However, Paul had long since come to
terms with that mistake, viewing that the years of self-regret and guilt surely
was punishment enough for the act.  Anyway, Paul recognised that one day he
would have to face Jon with the truth, that encounter alone was likely to repay
any remaining debt, with interest.  Paul vowed that when that day came, he
would ensure that Jon was nowhere within reach of his sword…  Jon was dangerous
enough on an average day, however with that blade in his hand, Jon was the
epitome of death.  Even Paul, no stranger to death, had been horrified at the
sight of Jon, blade in hand scything through enemy troops as if they were
simply blades of grass falling in the wind…no, Paul was going to make
absolutely certain that Jon was nowhere near that weapon when he told him.

It did not help Paul’s conscience much to realise that he
was not disobeying a direct order, as such.  Jon had ordered him not to involve
the Confederation Navy, well that did not preclude Paul from informing anybody
else, and if they just happened to pass on the message…  Well that was out of
Paul’s hands.  Only slightly mollified by this minor distinction, Paul
activated the communications console.  The next problem was how to get the
message to the intended recipient, Paul was fairly sure that her private
channel was not listed in any public database…Therefore Paul accessed a not so
private database, the Confederation Navy Data-net.  Of course Paul did not have
any official access to such a secure system, fortunately budgetary cuts to the
Navy meant that the Confederation Navy data-net was simply a rebranded version
of the old Imperial Navy data-net, and that…well Paul practically owned that. 
Accessing the database using one of the old system administrator accounts, Paul
quickly looked up the private communication channel for Sofia Aurelius.

Unfortunately that turned out to be the first of many
problems.  The second was quickly apparent when he tried initiating a call,
only to be informed by the software agent monitoring Sofia’s private channel
that she was currently unavailable and if he would like to leave a message,
this would be passed on at the earliest possible opportunity.

Paul growled in frustration, for all he knew Harkov could be
arriving at any moment and people would start dying, rapidly.  He had to get a
message to Sofia immediately, his eyebrows arched in deep thought.  Paul had
similar software agents running on his own personal channel, obviously, most
people did.  While communications technology progressed, the pressing desire of
some people, to sell others worthless crap unfortunately had not diminished in
the slightest.  Hence his personal software agent was only programmed to accept
a limited number of calls, from specific people or locations…  However, Paul
had programmed in certain overrides, certain key words or phrases.  Paul
assumed that Sofia had done likewise, but what could he use to get her attention? 
Thinking about the words and phrases Paul had programmed, his wife Carol, kids
names, birthdays, Jon…  Paul thought back to the last time he had seen Sofia,
remembering her devastated expression after Jon had left.  No, Paul was sure
that Sofia had loved Jon…then the answer hit him like a brick.  Re-opening the
communication channel, once again the software agent prompted him to leave a
message, but this time he did.

“Commander Jonathan Radec, 58
^th
Squadron,
Praetorian Guards.”

The software agent immediately vanished from the screen,
leaving a blank grey visage.  Suddenly the channel connected and Paul was
staring into the stunned green eyes of the last Imperial Princess - Sofia
Aurelius.

Present Day

Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

Shocked into silence for a moment, surprised that he had
actually managed to reach her in person Paul said the first thing that came
into his head.  “Sofia, you are not getting enough rest.”

The stunned expression on the Princess’ face slowly gave way
to an amused smile, when she replied. “Nice to see you too Paul, and I’m not
surprised I look tired as it is three in the morning here local time on Eden
Prime.”

Paul winced, as in his rush he had not thought to check the
local time on Eden Prime.  However, before he could apologise Sofia continued.

“Anyway, what is the reason for the call, and how come you
managed to get through my filters…”

Paul could see from her expression that she was studying her
own system to work out why the call had gone directly through to her, the
comprehension, quickly followed by the sudden sick expression on her face, was
enough to clue Paul that she was jumping to erroneous conclusions.  “Jon is
perfectly fine,” he was quick to add.

“I heard that he was badly hurt a while back,” Sofia
explained with a hint of worry.  “But I was told that he would make a full
recovery with time.  When I saw the reason for the call, I just assumed…” her
voice trailed off.

Paul could only roll his eyes in disbelief at the antics of
this couple.  Having, to the best of his knowledge, not seen or spoken to each
other for almost half a decade they seemed to be better informed about each
other than most married couples.  Then again it was not surprising that Sofia
was so up-to-date on the latest events on the station, as Sofia was the sole
investor and owner of Vanguard.  Paul wondered if Jon ever knew that all his
activities, all the reports, the financial statements, all were indirectly
going to Sofia.

When Paul had first had the idea of starting this venture,
after all, his contact list was brimming with exceptionally qualified, unemployed,
ex-Navy officers and there seemed a good gap in the market running freight and
logistics out on the rim.  However, he needed a financial backer.  Somebody
with the initial seed capital to purchase the necessary ships, equipment and
permits that such a company needed.  Unfortunately his contact list for
fabulously wealthy investors was rather slim; in fact there was only one person
on it. A hugely wealthy ex-Imperial Princess, whom he knew via a close family
friend.  Sofia had immediately jumped at the opportunity, tired of the
continuous political infighting.  Before Paul knew it, he had the capital he
required and via Sofia’s political and military connections the deeds to
Terra
Nova
, the company’s new corporate headquarters.  Paul found it ironic that
Jon seemed to have spent his life after the Praetorian Guards running away from
this striking woman, only to end up unwittingly bound to her.  Then again if
Jon had ever taken the time to investigate who actually owned Vanguard...

“Jon’s fine,” Paul reassured the young woman.  “He seems to
be making a good recovery after his injury, even if he constantly refuses to
follow Doctor Richardson’s orders to take it easy and rest.  You know Jon…”

Sofia offered a weak smile upon this news.  Yes, she knew
what Paul meant.  Jon was never comfortable with sitting around idly, waiting
for events to take place, or at least he never used to be… her smile turning
sad once again. “How is he really doing Paul?  It’s been so long since Jon and
I last talked…” she replied sadly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears,
remembering the harsh words that the two had last exchanged.

Paul could only curse at history, duty, fate, whatever or
whoever seemed so intent on keeping these two apart, and both miserable.  “He’s
doing ok,” Paul replied.  “He still thinks about you, he mentions you
occasionally,” he added, thinking that was a safe enough comment.

“And what about your newest crew member? I heard that she is
now running the company, while Jon is recovering.  I saw her picture on the GNN
broadcast, she seems very young and beautiful…”

It was only through years of debriefings with her father,
Marcus, that allowed Paul’s expression to remain unchanged when he replied
nonchalantly.  “She is also doing well, it was my idea to promote her
temporarily, she needs the experience.”  Paul carefully schooled his expression
to ensure that none of his more recent observations had a chance to leak.  It
was not his place to inform the Princess of what seemed to be a budding romance
between Jon and Miranda; Sofia had already been hurt enough.

However, perhaps somebody else had already informed Sofia?
Or she had already guessed the truth, as she looked away from the view screen
sadly.  “It’s been so long now…the anger and the pain has mostly faded, it’s
the hurt from the not knowing that bothers me now.  Why Paul?  Why did he do
it?  Why hurt me like that?  Why did he leave me?  Was it something I said,
something I did…”

Paul averted his eyes, not wanting to see the tears in the
other woman’s eyes; cursing Jon for the hundredth time.  What was worse, is
that Paul still had no answer to any of those questions, years after she first
asked him, weeping in his arms.  Paul knew that those actions hurt Jon just as
badly, perhaps even more, as Jon had left on his self-imposed exile, leaving
behind the few people that he knew, and loved. 

Now he spent his days shut away in his office, reviewing
reports or eating alone, nothing to accompany him except that wide viewport
with the stars brightly visible.  As far as Paul could understand, Jon felt
that he deserved this penance; for the past mistakes that he blamed himself
for.

So engrossed in his own internal monologue, Paul failed to
notice Sofia dry her eyes and turn back to the view-screen.  “Anyway, I’m
sorry, I am sure that you did not go to all this trouble of reaching me, to
watch me cry my eyes out over a long lost love…How are Carol and the kids?” she
asked remembering her manners, that had been drilled into her since a small
child in her father’s court.

“They are good thanks,” he said.  “The kids are getting
older, and more trouble by the day.  These days I usually have to threaten to
call Gunny before I can get them to sleep…” The station’s kids had been in awe
of the Marine Sergeant, ever since Lieutenant Castle’s daughter had recounted
the story of how he had
wasted
the monster that was hiding in her
bedroom wardrobe.

Sofia laughed, as obviously the story had also reached her
ears on Eden Prime.  In some ways Sofia was the last unofficial member of the
station crew.  As while she resided many light-years away on Eden Prime, all
the crew knew the history between her and Jon.  Paul pitied what would happen
to anybody that hurt Sofia, wondering if that included Jon.  Paul had not heard
of Sofia being involved with anybody.  As the Confederation President, Paul
assumed that her private life was pretty much non-existent, and any rumours of
her involvement with anyone would make headlines, not the least as she was the
last Imperial Princess, last in the Aurelius family line.  Paul idly wondered
what Jon would do or say if it did become common knowledge that Sofia was
involved in somebody.

Probably wish her the best happiness, and go back to his
office, dark and alone never to be seen or heard from again…

“And how are you?  Aside from tired considering it’s three
o’clock in the morning there?  Speaking of which why
are
you still
working at three o’clock in the morning?”  Paul inquired.

“I’m fine, as for why I am up so-late, I’m beginning to
understand why father always looked so tired.  There are never enough hours in
the day – or night to get everything done.  Meetings and conferences all day,
reports all evening, at some point I even try and find time to actually get
work
done.
”

“Your father at least had the common sense to delegate some
of his work and responsibilities,” Paul replied, noting with concern the dark
rings under her eyes.

“My father was surrounded by competent fleet officers, able
administrators and strong legislators,” Sofia retorted.  “I’ve only got corrupt
politicians and incompetent bureaucrats to work with.”

Paul smiled at Sofia’s succinct description of the
Confederation government and replied. “Well, your father had an excellent
method of motivation, anybody found incompetent was summarily removed, only
occasionally with his head still attached.”

Sofia’s eyes brightened at the thought. “I wonder if I could
raise a bill before the Senate to introduce such a policy for our bureaucracy. 
I can think of a half a dozen that could be
cut down to size…
” Sofia giggled.

Paul smiled, glad that for just a brief moment that he could
glimpse the young headstrong Princess, whom he had first met back on Eden Prime
soon after their arrival, after fleeing Harkov and the fleet.  “What about
yourself, Princess,” Paul replied putting his old emphasis on her title, the
same one he used for his six year old daughter.  “You have not given any
thought to settling down and starting your own family?” he asked, in his own
oblique way inquiring if there was anybody else in her life.