The Sunfire (10 page)
Leaning forward to emphasise the point Jon snapped. “I quit
and don’t ever call me
boy
again.” With that he tossed the blade aside,
turning his back on the Praetorian Commander.
Gideon could only stare in disbelief at the retreating man’s
back, wondering what the hell had just happened? As the Praetorian Commander,
he had never been defeated, never bested by a blade before. Yet this had just
happened, at the hand of some new, young recruit, with barely a few week’s
training.
When Marcus had first ordered him to train the boy, Gideon
had glanced at his personnel file, and was unimpressed. The boy came from a
poor background from Altair. Altair? Where the hell was Altair? While obviously
courageous and loyal to the troops he commanded, Gideon viewed him as young and
reckless, with little or no discipline. Definitely not the usual Praetorian
material. Gideon had idly wondered why Marcus had chosen him.
Quit?
Gideon laughed out aloud, calling out to the
retreating officer. “I like you, boy. A big improvement over your predecessor,
Sejanus.” Gideon touched the side of his head painfully, feeling the small cut
from the hilt of the blade. Perhaps he would no longer refer to the officer as
boy
.
He had earned that.
*****
Jon’s eyes snapped open. Wide awake with Gideon’s final
words ringing through his head.
“I like you boy. A big improvement over your predecessor,
Sejanus
.”
That made it twice in as many hours he had heard that name
mentioned. Wondering if it was just his imagination, Jon replayed the encounter
with Gideon, many years before, over and over again in his head until he was
convinced he had not been imagining it. Gideon had definitely used the name Sejanus.
Perhaps it was just a coincidence? But Jon had never believed in coincidences.
He made a mental note to bring up the name during the senior staff meeting
later.
Glancing at the chronometer, Jon observed it was still very early
in the morning. Now that he was wide awake he knew that it would be futile to
try and get back to sleep. Anyway it was still several hours before the senior
staff meeting was scheduled to commence and Jon had some unfinished business to
take care of first.
*****
As it was so early the corridors were pretty much deserted.
The station only ran a skeleton shift at this hour of day, especially as it was
still on shutdown following the destruction of the
Santa Maria
and the
arrival of Harkov’s fleet.
Thinking about Harkov, Jon finally arrived at his
destination, the brig, where Harkov had been held prisoner for the past couple
of days. The two armed guards, standing diligently at attention, both reached
for their side arms as the door slid open. It was so early in the morning they
were not expecting any visitors. Both returned the pistols to their holsters
upon sighting the Commander.
“Return to your posts men, I am dismissing this security
detail,” Jon ordered curtly.
The two guards eyed each other nervously, as they had strict
instructions to guard the prisoner until relieved, but finally acknowledging
the order from the Commander, saluted, and hurried from the brig.
Unlocking the door to the cell that contained Harkov, Jon
could just make out his form, sleeping restlessly in the dim light. Kicking
Harkov in the side, none too lightly, Jon roused him from his slumber. On
seeing the Commander, Harkov scurried back into the corner of the cell.
Recognising that even a coward like Harkov would probably fight if cornered
and, as he was running on a tight time schedule, Jon ordered, “Harkov, get up.
We are leaving.”
“Going where?” Harkov replied, looking at him suspiciously.
“I thought that you wanted to leave the station?” Jon
inquired. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“No. No, I still want to leave. You remember your promise?
Alive and unharmed?”
“I remember,” Jon said, nodding reluctantly. “Now come on,
we do not have much time before somebody notices your absence.” With that Jon
departed the cell, with Harkov scurrying quickly behind him. Fortunately the
corridors were still empty and nobody saw their swift departure. Jon closed and
locked the cell door, and after they walked through the door to the brig it
slid shut behind them. Hopefully that would buy them more time before anybody
noticed him missing.
“Where are we going?”
“The docking ring,” Jon replied lengthening his stride,
praying to whichever deity might be listening they would not encounter anybody
on their route. Fortunately their luck held and finally the two of them arrived
in front of one of the airlocks on the docking ring. Jon motioned towards the
open portal. “As per my promise, you are free to leave. Alive and unharmed.”
Harkov looked at the open door greedily, before turning to
face the Commander one final time. “Your problem Radec is that you still
believe in honour. You are a relic from the past and like all relics you will
soon become extinct. You mark my words Radec; your honour will be the cause of
your downfall one day. Until we meet again!” Harkov exclaimed, hurrying through
the airlock towards the waiting ship.
Only to find another closed airlock door, facing out into
the deep emptiness of interstellar space. “What the hell?” He exclaimed
whirling around just in time to see in horror the airlock door that he had just
stepped through closing behind him. “Radec!” He screamed in terror, pounding on
the door with his fists. “You gave me your word, your honour on the life of the
Princess. You lying son-of-a-bitch!”
As Harkov stepped into the airlock, Jon activated the controls
to cycle the airlock. Watching stone-faced as the door slid shut, observing
through the small viewport the realisation and horror on Harkov’s face. “As
promised Harkov,” Jon said softly, knowing that the other man could not hear
him though the airtight door. “You are free to leave the station, alive and
unharmed, but perhaps next time you might also request a ship.”
With that the outer airlock door cycled open. The explosive
decompression pulling the screaming Harkov out into space.
Having thrown out the trash, Jon went in search of a cup of
coffee. He was expecting the senior staff meeting to be a long one.
*****
Jon was already on this third cup of coffee of the morning,
patiently sitting at the head of the briefing room table, waiting for the rest
of the senior staff to file in.
David McNeill, the station’s Head of Security, hurried into
the room, his face as white as a sheet, ten minutes late. “Commander,” he
exclaimed breathlessly. “Harkov is missing. I have just interrogated the
guards, they insisted that
you
dismissed them.”
All eyes in the room swivelled to face Jon.
“Everything is under control,” Jon replied unperturbed.
“Please take a seat and I will explain.”
David shot Jon a look of complete and utter disbelief,
before sinking into the remaining seat dejectedly.
“Now that everybody is here,” Jon began, ensuring he had
everybody’s attention. “I want to explain the purpose for calling you all here
today. During the interrogation of Harkov, some rather startling new facts have
come to light regarding events that transpired five years ago on the
Imperial
Star
.”
The senior staff exchanged puzzled looks, not understanding
how events that happened so long ago could have any bearing on the present.
Taking a deep breath, Jon knew there was no easy way to
break this news, so he just came out and said it. “Harkov informed me that the
Emperor, Marcus Aurelius, is still alive.”
The room was deadly silent for a moment, you could have
heard a pin drop, before it exploded into a dozen different voices, all shouting
at once.
“Rubbish.”
“Nonsense.”
“Can’t you see Jon, he is spinning you moonbeams. Telling
you what you want to hear?”
Jon was expecting such a response and waited for the room to
quieten down once again. Finally Jon turned to Paul, one of the few voices that
had been silent. “Paul?”
Paul was silent for a few moments, before looking up. “What
did Harkov say?” Paul asked guardedly.
Jon nodded his head acknowledging the question. While they
had never spoken of it before, Jon had long felt that Paul also harboured some
of the same suspicions that he did. How did Marcus die? Why had his body never
been presented or found? What happened during those last fateful hours on the
Imperial
Star
? Touching a control on the desk, Jon activated the voice recording he
had made of Harkov’s confession the day before.
“I do not know everything that happened.” Harkov’s voice
bellowed out of the room’s concealed audio system. “But I will tell you what I
know.”
“Just get on with it Harkov,” Jon interrupted irritably on
the recording.
“Very well then. The plan first started to go awry after
your meeting with Marcus and your abrupt departure took us all by surprise. I
had spent the past several months transferring people personally loyal to me
into key positions throughout the fleet, positions on the command deck and in
engineering. I had also been quietly transferring in troops to help me seize
the rest of the fleet. However, I did not have any people loyal to me or any of
my own troops stationed on the flight deck, hence I could not stop or delay
your departure. However, I had replaced the fighter crew on the ship and they
were all loyal to me. I had these launch ahead of you and ordered them to be
stationed within the asteroid belt, ready to ambush you. Soon after you and the
Praetorians departed, I put the plan into action. It went flawlessly, with only
one officer managing to activate the emergency distress beacon before he was
shot. Once the
Imperial Star
was under my control I sent troops to
arrest Marcus,
but
he was gone. The guards I had posted on
the door denied he had ever left.
I ordered an immediate search of the ship, but no trace of
him could be found. However, it was discovered that his personal shuttle, the
Endless
Light,
was also missing. The ship’s computer and external sensors didn’t
detect the shuttle or other ships leaving, apart from your own and the
Praetorians’. Marcus and his ship just vanished into thin air, like a ghost.
You know what happened next. Somehow you evaded the ambush I
arranged for you and managed to escape with Marcus’ daughter. By then the plan
was in complete disarray. I had lost both the Emperor and his daughter, my only
two legitimate claims to the Empire. Worrying that you might have signalled for
reinforcements, I jumped the taskforce to an uninhabited system, which we had
identified several weeks before, to decide on the next course of action.
While there, I received a message from Alexander Sejanus,
Chief Executive of the Tyrell Corporation, claiming that he had the Emperor in
his possession and wanted a trade.”
“And you took his word for it?” Jon’s cynical voice
interrupted on the recording.
“Of course not,” Harkov responded indignantly. “I demanded
proof that they had Marcus and he was still alive
.
After
all, he was no use to me dead.”
“And?” Jon demanded urgently.
“They sent me proof of life. A live recording of Marcus as
he was being tortured. My technicians confirmed the signal was live and had not
been altered in any way. Sejanus also sent me his DNA sequence. As you know
there are no copies of this held on any database in the Imperium, only on the
main computer of the
Imperial Star
and this cannot be copied, only
verified against.”
“What do you know about this Sejanus, what does he look
like?”
“He wouldn’t reveal himself to me,” Harkov insisted. “All
our communications were via audio only, no visual communication.”
“So what did Sejanus want in exchange for the Emperor?”
“Two things,” Harkov said. “First he wanted the Emperor’s
daughter, Sofia Aurelius. Alive.”
“The second?”
“You. Dead. He insisted on having your head delivered with
the Princess. Those were the terms of the deal.”
“And you accepted?”
“Of course I did. What other option did I have? At the time
I had nothing to lose.”
“So you sent your spies, assassins and mercenaries after
us?” Jon deduced.
“Yes, as I could not risk my task force being so deep in
Imperial space.”
“But that was over five years ago. How do you know that
Marcus is still alive today?”
“Because Sejanus contacted me only a few months ago. Again,
he demanded your head and Sofia, alive, in exchange for the Emperor. He again
sent proof Marcus was still alive.”
“But you said that you knew where he was?” The voice of Jon
on the recording prompted Harkov, once again. “So where is he?”
“I didn’t just send my spies after you,” Harkov gloated. “I
sent them after Sejanus too. He is currently located on the planet Tartarus, in
the Sigma Draconis system. That is where you will find your beloved Emperor,
Marcus Aurelius. Alive and imprisoned.”
Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System
“It’s just not possible. By the Maker, what have we done? We
abandoned him there and left him behind. Alive and all alone,” Doctor
Richardson whispered in a voice, full of despair.
“What is done is done!” Jon snapped, slapping the palm of his
hand down firmly on the conference room table. “We cannot change the past, we
can only alter the future. Occasionally we are offered the opportunity to put
things right, but the question is what are we going to do about it now that we
know?”
All eyes in the room turned to face Paul. “Why is everybody
looking at me as if I know the answer?” he asked, surprised.
“I think this is normally about the time when you butt in,
saying this is not our problem, that we should tell the Confederation,” Jon
smirked.
“Hell no,” Paul shook his head emphatically. “You go to the
Confederation with this news and the Senate will send the fleet out for sure, to
finish the job! To make sure Marcus is dead and buried this time. The only
thing that jointly united the Senate was their all-abiding deep hatred of the
Emperor. If we are going to do this, we do this.
Alone
.”
The nodding of heads around the table was unanimous.
“Jason?” Jon asked. “What do we know about the Tyrell
Corporation and the planet Tartarus?”
Jason looked up from the datapad that he had been furiously
tapping away on, ever since he had heard Harkov had stated where and who was
currently imprisoning the Emperor. “According to public records, the Tyrell
Corporation is a private incorporated company. As a private company it does not
need to publish annual reports. Hence its current owner is listed as unknown.
According to their data-net they are a private security company, that trace
their roots back to a small Old Earth company called
Blackwater,
which
was founded in the late 20
th
Century in Virginia, one of the many
different countries that existed back then, I guess.”
“Mercenaries then,” Gunny cursed in distaste.
“Looks like they are more than that, as according to their
data-net they also have a large Research & Development arm, and own a
number of munitions factories and shipyards.”
“Even better. Arms dealers, run by mercenaries,” Gunny
growled.
“I thought I recognised the name,” Paul added. “We have done
some business with them in the past during our special operations days.”
“We’ve worked with them before?” Gunny demanded, aghast.
Paul just shrugged his shoulders. “
Plausible
deniability
.
Today a friend, tomorrow a foe. They have always made themselves just useful
enough in the past to avoid having the Imperial Navy shut them down
permanently.”
“What do you know about the planet Tartarus?” Jon asked,
realising that the company was going to be a dead-end.
“We have more information on the planet,” Jason confirmed.
“It was originally discovered by the Imperial Navy during our last big
expansion, one hundred and fifty years ago. According to the original scans it
was classified as a habitable planet, but only just. The initial scan reported
significant volcanic and tectonic activity, high concentrations of carbon dioxide,
sulphur dioxide, methane and carbon monoxide. Day time temperatures reported as
high as 65
o
C, night time temperatures reported as low as minus 35
o
C.
It was classified as low priority for settlement, the final report in the
database listed it as being sold to the Tyrell Corporation for fifty billion
credits.”
“Sounds like the perfect home for a bunch of devils,” Gunny
exclaimed.
“Oh, knock it off Gunny,” Jon insisted, beginning to feel
the start of a headache, as he had still not completely recovered from his last
ordeal. “Paul, you said that the Imperial Navy drew up at least one strike plan
against the company?”
“Should be in the classified Confederation Navy data-net,”
Paul nodded.
“Okay, I’ve found it, bringing it up now,” Jason confirmed.
Nobody in the room having the slightest concern that they had such easy access
to a secure, military-only network.
The holo-projector in the room came to life, displaying a
large yellowish-red planet, about thirty centimetres in diameter, hovering just
above the conference table. The display suddenly superimposed three large
objects orbiting the virtual planet, each highlighted with detailed technical
specifications displayed parallel to them.
Peering closely at the display, Paul whistled out loudly.
“Okay, that's going to be a big problem.”
“What is it?” Miranda asked anxiously, looking around at the
general shaking of heads around the table, not understanding the detailed
specifications being rendered.
“It’s a Titan Mk. III,” Paul replied as if that explained
everything.
“What the hell is a Titan Mk. III?”
“It’s a stationary orbital defence platform,” Jon explained.
“Think of it as a really, really big, mean, nasty battleship. Strip out the
engines, give it even more weapons emplacements, double the armour and you have
a Titan Mk. III
.
”
“And Tartarus is protected by three of them,” Paul added
unhelpfully.
“Anything else?” Jon directed the question at Jason.
“According to the last report, which is a few years out of
date, a number of warships have also been observed, at least one battleship, a
couple of heavy cruisers, several light cruisers and destroyer class warships,”
he replied.
“I think we are in the wrong line of work,” David quipped.
“They must be making some serious credits to be able to afford that lot and
seriously paranoid about their privacy.”
“What was the gist of the Imperial strike plan then?” Jon
asked resignedly, being able to predict the answer.
“A reinforced Imperial strike force. Backed up by at least
two star-carriers. The plan called for the strike group to engage any enemy
ships, while repeated bomber wings engaged the Titans from a distance.”
“Twenty or thirty warships, with around two hundred fighters
and bombers in support,” Jon summarised mostly for Miranda’s benefit, rubbing
his forehead, his headache back with a vengeance.
“And we have?” Miranda inquired.
“Jason?”
Looking backwards and forwards between Jon and Miranda, he
inquired. “Are we including Miranda’s
Wraith
heavy-attack fighter?”
Miranda shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
“One
Wraith
heavy-attack fighter,” Jason deadpanned.
“We’re
so
screwed
,” David said.
“Maybe not,” Jon replied after a few moments of deep
concentration. “There is another ship that we have,” he said, looking at Paul.
“You cannot be serious,” he spluttered.
“It’s our only option.”
“That was over three years ago, you don’t even know if it’s
still there.”
“I know it is.”
“Then you don’t even know if it is safe.”
“We need to take the risk.”
The rest of the senior staff watched the backwards and
forwards conversation between the two officers with increasing confusion.
“Enough!” Bellowed Gunny, slamming his fist against the
table. “Will one, or both of you, please explain to the rest of us what you are
talking about?”
Paul made an ‘after you’ gesture with his hand towards Jon,
who, taking a deep breath, explained. “There is another ship that we possess. A
warship. A Confederation Navy heavy cruiser to be precise,
The Sunfire.”
The shocked silence in the briefing room was interrupted by
Gunny raising his hand. “Excuse the interruption, but just where is this ship?
As when I woke up this morning and looked out the window I failed to notice a
big damn Confederation Navy heavy cruiser parked outside.”
Jon ignored the sarcasm and simply replied, “It’s currently,
or was, in orbit around the dark side of a moon, around the second planet in
the Beta-Hydri system.”
“It’s just out there, floating around?” Gunny inquired in
disbelief.
Paul and Jon exchanged another brief glance. “Sort of,” Jon
replied evasively.
Jason meanwhile was once again accessing the Confederation
data-net and brought up the schematics of the
Sunfire
on the
holo-projector; the three-dimensional image almost taking up the entire length
of the briefing room table.
“Heavy cruiser class, dual bow particle beam cannons, heavy
rail-guns, pulse cannons, both fore and aft missile batteries, double hulled,
a
ship-of-the-line
.” It was Jason’s turn to whistle out loud, even more
impressed by the powerful warship displayed in front of them than the defences
around Tartarus.
“Excuse me,” Miranda interrupted. “But what is a
ship-of-the-line? I have never heard that term before.”
“Warships are hugely expensive Miranda,” Paul explained.
“Your average citizen just assumes they are out there, floating around
somewhere until they are called upon to blow something up, but that is just not
the case. Most navy warships are actually multi-role. They might have an
extended cargo hold and be armed merchants, or with faster engines and be used
as fleet couriers, but a ship-of-the-line is different. It only has one purpose
and that is to be first into battle.
For this reason it is more
heavily armed and built with thicker armour than any other comparable ship. They
are called ships-of-the-line because on Old Earth ancient sail ships used to
form a line of battle and they were the first in that line.”
Miranda nodded in understanding.
“Then the only issue I can see,” Jason continued. “Is that
according to the last status update, the
Sunfire
was confirmed lost,
with all hands, while on operational deployment. Which raises the interesting
question, if it was lost with all hands, how was the ship ever confirmed lost?
There is no record of its destruction.”
All eyes in the room, once again turned questioningly back
to Jon.
“It was lost, with all hands, except for me. I wrote that
final entry, but I was never officially attached to the crew. I was there as an
independent observer, so the final report is accurate.”
“Even if what you say is true and the ship is still in
orbit, this will be a fantastic asset to us, but against
three
Titan
orbital defence stations? It’s not going to be enough,” Paul pointed out.
Jon cast his gaze away from Paul, ashamed. While they had
been friends for a long time, Jon had not shared all of his secrets with him
and it was going to be necessary to reveal what he had long kept hidden from
his old friend. “It’s not just the ship that we need,” Jon whispered out loud.
“It’s what is stored on the ship.”
“Nothing is listed on the ship manifest,” Jason replied
confused. “What is so important that is on the ship that we need?”
“Three, Mk. VI tactical nuclear warheads.”
The silence in the room was deafening as nobody knew what to
say. Everybody had witnessed the hugely destructive capability of such a
weapon, when Jon had used one against the
Imperial Star
only weeks
earlier–but three of them? Floating around in space, for anybody to stumble
across—the possible consequences were terrifying.
Paul threw back his chair, stumbling to his feet, red faced
with fury. “You never told me!” He yelled, pointing his finger across the table
at Jon. “You never told me what was on that ship, otherwise I would never have
kept silent about it. By the Maker, Jon! If somebody stumbles on that ship and
finds those weapons
—
each one could level a city. Millions,
tens of millions of innocent people could die. What were you thinking?”
Jon looked grim faced, hurt both by the accusations and the
knowledge that while he had not lied to Paul, he should have told him about the
cargo. “It was my decision,” he replied firmly. “Any consequences, any blame
for my actions rests solely with me. The weapons are safe because anybody
approaching the ship without transmitting the correct codes, will trigger the
self-destruct mechanism.”
“Perhaps you should tell us what happened?” Jason interrupted
the argument that was obviously just getting started.
So Jon recounted the rumours that had filtered out of the
system. How he had been assigned to the
Sunfire
as an independent
observer, their search for the weapon and finally the tragic loss of life of
the crew. “Naval Intelligence had assumed the weapon being developed was
biological in nature, as the rumours suggested that while the weapon killed, it
left the infrastructure intact. It was a reasonable assumption, but totally
wrong.”
“That was why you and the weapons were assigned to the
Sunfire
?”
Paul asked. His temper cooled by the retelling of the death of so many. “As
they assumed it was some bio-weapon, the only way that the Confederation could
ensure its destruction was by nuking the facility from space?”
Jon nodded his head.
“And we are sure that the ship is now safe?” Doctor
Richardson asked, concerned about the possible radiation effects on the crew.
“It should be Doc,” Jon replied. “The neutron dose delivered
by the weapon was lethal, but the resulting radiation does not last long, it
has an extremely short half-life. That was the intended purpose of the weapon.”
Looking around at the unsure looks on the faces of the senior staff, Jon
pronounced passionately, “At the time I could not understand why I couldn’t
scuttle the ship, it just seemed
wrong somehow
. Now I
understand. This is the purpose for the ship, call it fate, call it destiny, I
don’t care, but the
Sunfire
will be there. This is what she was built
for, what she has been waiting for since I abandoned her.”
“So let me get this straight,” Gunny said. “We go find this
ship and, assuming that we can salvage it, we fly it to Tartarus. Once there,
we nuke the orbital defence platforms, destroy any other ships that get in our
way and assault whatever ground based facilities that they might have. We go
in, rescue the boss and then high-tail it out of the System?”
