The Sunfire (5 page)

Miranda remembered Paul had mentioned something similar a
while back, prior to the battle that so nearly cost the Commander his life. She
looked at Paul for confirmation and he slowly, but reluctantly, nodded his head
in agreement with Gunny.

“It’s possible that
your destiny
, the sole reason for
your existence was to find Jon out there,” Gunny stated firmly.

“But that's crazy,” Miranda refuted.

“See. That's what I said,” Paul replied emphatically.

“So what else was it that you wanted to discuss?” Miranda
tried to change the topic, not wanting to acknowledge what Gunny was
suggesting, as
something
had drawn her to that area of space. Something
she could not quantify or explain.

“That’s the other thing,” Paul went on to describe the
events earlier in the day, from the discovery of the battered escape pod. He
was only interrupted once during the recounting, by Miranda changing her mind
and requesting another glass of Scotch.

*****

Meanwhile, several decks below in medical, Jon had finally
been taken off the respirator, having eventually started to breathe without the
aid of the machine. Following that he had been moved to a private recovery
ward. Considering the other patient currently occupying medical, Dr Richardson
had felt it unwise to have both occupying the same room. Hooked up to several
machines monitoring his recovery, the only sound in the room was the regular
beep of the heart monitor.

The machine dedicated to monitoring his brain activity,
which had been flat, started to show signs of life. Slowly at first, but with
increasing intensity his synapses started to fire, his eyelids flickering as he
dreamed. Dreaming of a similar room, but on a different ship, many years
before.

Five Years Previously

System Patrol Craft Intrepid, Eden System

“Clear!” The Chief Flight Surgeon of the SPC
Intrepid
called out, sending a massive jolt of energy into the Commander’s chest to
restart his heart. Having been quickly transferred from the
Eternal Light,
the Commander’s heart had stopped beating soon after arriving at the medical
bay. “I’ve got a pulse,” the doctor exclaimed, looking up relieved, observing
the spectacle his usually orderly medical bay had turned into.

For the room was not just occupied by his patient who, he
had been reliably informed by the Captain, was the Commander of the Praetorian
Guard. This man, being a firm favourite of the Emperor, was not a person they
could afford to have dying on their watch. Following directly behind the
Commander was a young woman, dressed in jeans, ankle boots and what had once
been a tan coloured blouse but was now stained a deep crimson red. The doctor
assumed this was from the Commander’s blood. He had no idea who the woman was,
but with her auburn hair and deep emerald green eyes she was startlingly
beautiful and determined not to leave the Commander’s side. Even more
strangely, the Captain and the Executive Officer, who had followed the pair
into medical, kept acceding to her. Casting worried glances her way, they
supported her decision to stay, overriding the doctor who had insisted that she
must leave. It was all very confusing and was rapidly turning his medical bay
into a circus.

Checking the readouts of the numerous medical devices
currently attached to the Commander, the Chief Flight Surgeon turned to face
the crowd and said, “The Commander is stable now, as I have managed to restart
his heart and stem the bleeding. He is a very lucky man, because the tactical
armour he was wearing saved his life. We should all thank the Maker that he was
hit by a fragmenting round, for if it had been a piercing shot he would now be
down in the ship’s morgue. Fortunately the armour managed to stop the majority
of the fragments, the remaining ones mostly halted by the time they pierced his
flesh. The Commander’s back is a mess right now, but they can repair that
damage back on Eden Prime, although the Commander is going to be very stiff for
the next several weeks.”

“Thank you Doctor,” Captain Turner replied, wiping away a
bead of sweat that had formed on his forehead while waiting for the diagnosis.
He dreaded to think what the consequences to his future career and life would
have been, had anything happened to this man on his ship. He could imagine that
both would have been abruptly cut short.

“I’m staying. I’m not leaving him.” Sofia insisted
stubbornly, taking Jon’s hand in hers, as if to reassure herself what the
Doctor said was true and he would live. For she had felt the life draining out
of him whilst cradling him on the floor of the
Eternal Light
, as she had
waited for what had seemed an eternity for the
Intrepid
to arrive.

“I assure you ma’am, I will notify you immediately if there
is any change in his condition, however the medical bay is not equipped to host
guests,” the Doctor replied exasperatedly.

“I’m staying.”

The Doctor looked despairingly at the Captain, who shook his
head, denying the request. Instead he caught the eye of his XO and subtly
nodded his head in the direction of an empty corner of the medical bay where
they could talk without being overheard.

“I have been in communication with the admiralty, the
Intrepid
has been recalled with immediate effect. Our new orders are to make best
possible speed back to Eden Prime. We are also under a communications blackout,
no information leaves this ship about the distress signal, the shuttle or its
two occupants,” Turner informed his XO.

“They are recalling the entire ship?” His XO asked aghast.
“But what about our patrol schedule? Not to mention the fuel reserves that we
will have to consume for a direct trip.”

“It’s even worse. We have been ordered to make best speed
for Eden Prime and are not to divert course
for any reason
, including
any further distress calls.” It was obvious from the tone of the Captain’s
voice what he thought of that particular order. Having been in the Imperial
Navy for the past twenty years, finally achieving the rank of Captain, it was
an unwritten rule in the navy (and had been ever since the old sailing ships of
Earth), that you
always
responded to a distress call, as you never knew
if one day it might be you in distress.

“But
—
”

“Those are our orders XO, directly from the office of
Admiral Sterling. We might not like them, but I expect us to follow them.
Please tell the bridge to set a new course for Eden Prime, at the best possible
speed.”

“Yes, sir,” The XO replied stiffly. However, as he was
turning to carry out his orders, the Captain interrupted him one last time.

“And try to find a spare change of clothes for the woman. I
don’t want to present her to the fleet admiralty looking like she has just
crawled out of a slaughter house.”

The XO was about to make a sharp retort to the Captain, that
it was not his job to play dressmaker for the female occupants of the ship,
when he recognised the expression on the Captain’s face and wisely kept such
thoughts to himself. “Sir,” he replied disapprovingly, departing from the
medical bay.

Returning once again to stand beside the young woman, whose
gaze had not once left the Commander, he observed the way she closely cradled
his pale hand in hers. He had no idea what had transpired between these two in
the past, although from the injuries sustained by the Commander and her own
blood-splattered attire, he could make some educated guesses. The Captain could
only assume the two had become very close, as the way she was holding him,
refusing to leave his side, demonstrated far greater concern than one would
usually show for an injured guard.

“Princess,” he interrupted her contemplation. “I have asked
my crew to bring you a change of clothes. I understand that the Doctor’s office
has an adjoining washroom that you may use and I will give orders that you are
not to be disturbed. Is there anything else that I can do for you?”

“I assume that we are heading towards Eden Prime?” She
inquired in a quiet, subdued voice.

“Yes Princess, those are my orders.”

“Then I will require an audience with Admiral Sterling
immediately upon our arrival. I need to make sure that he is aware of recent
events.”

“Very well Princess, I will pass on the message.” The Captain
tried to finish the conversation, but his curiosity got the better of him and
he had to ask. “Princess, what happened?”

Looking up at the Captain, the despair clear to see in her
green eyes, she simply replied, “My father, the Emperor, is dead.”

Those few, simple words hit the Captain with the force of a
jackhammer. Reeling back in shock, speechless, he didn’t know what to say. So
with a bowed head, he muttered his condolences to the Princess and quietly left
the medical bay.

Suddenly best speed back to Eden Prime did not seem fast
enough.

*****

Jon woke from his restful slumber to a warm breeze, which
smelled of freshly cut grass and flowers in bloom, just like summer in full
swing. The smell was invigorating and revitalising. With his eyes still closed,
Jon could feel the warmth from the sun on the left side of his face. Obviously
during his convalescence he had been moved planet-side. Jon’s memories of prior
events were still hazy. He remembered the meeting on
Memphis
, the
hurried departure and then only blinding pain. He could vaguely recall Sofia
sobbing that she would not leave him, the dampness of her tears wet against his
cheek.

Sofia!

Eyes wide open, he tried to sit up, but his movement came to
an abrupt halt. It felt like his whole back was on fire. Overcoming the pain,
like he had been forced to do so many times in the past, Jon tried to sit up
again. This time it was as if a heavy weight was lying across his chest, like a
tight band around his lungs. Ultimately defeated by these two factors, he lay
back on the bed, eyes staring up at the white, featureless ceiling.

Events suddenly came rushing back in a kaleidoscope of
images and sounds. The brief and very one-sided duel in the officer’s lounge of
the
Imperial Star,
the meeting with the Emperor and their rushed
departure from his flagship. Followed by the fight to escape the ambush, with
the resultant sacrifice of his fellow Praetorians to allow the
Eternal Light
to escape. Jon had been so busy trying to keep Sofia and himself alive he
had not had time to reflect on that sacrifice. His squadron, his friends, the
closest that he had to family aside from his parents,
now all
gone.

Thinking of his parents, it reminded Jon of their time on
Altair. With Sofia in his arms, the feel of her soft body pressed so intimately
against his and the feel of her lips against his own. Jon found it ironic that
during the bleakest, darkest moments of his life he had managed to find
absolute serenity. It had only been at that moment in time when it felt as if
he had finally found the missing part of his life he had always been searching
for, ever since the death of his sister, Catherine. Jon remembered when they
were children his sister had foretold he would fall in love with a beautiful
princess. With a faint smile, it occurred to Jon that if there was a heaven
Catherine would be there at the moment, laughing.

His thoughts were interrupted by another sound. Initially
Jon had thought it just the sound of the breeze, but this was deeper, almost a
low rumble. Casting his gaze to his side, at the source of the sound, Jon was
astonished to see a mass of red hair lying across his chest, the sound
emanating from within. With a soft smile, Jon recognised the face of Princess
Sofia Aurelius, lying across his chest, asleep and snoring gently. He was
relieved to see she appeared unhurt, if not a little more pale and thinner than
he remembered. She at least accounted for the weight bearing down on his chest,
causing his lungs to expand and contract painfully. Jon, however, would not have
changed anything about that moment, ignoring the pain from her weight. Instead
he reached up with his free hand and gently ran it through her soft, gentle
locks. In Jon’s mind her hair was the second most beautiful aspect about her,
the best being her sparking emerald green eyes, so full of life, intellect and
mischievousness. Jon longed for her to open her eyes so he could gaze into them
once again, but instead he let her sleep, recognising she probably needed that
more.

Continuing to run his fingers through her hair, Jon was
puzzled for a moment, trying to remember why this feeling was so similar, until
finally it came back to him. Sofia sleeping gently on his chest, in his
parent’s guest bedroom, at their small house on Altair. Jon remembered at the time
wishing the moment would last forever, and he felt the same now.

Now that he was awake, he cast his gaze curiously around the
room. It was obviously a private recovery room, as Jon was the only occupant,
apart from Sofia. Jon hazarded a guess that the room was part of a larger
medical facility. It was painted white and sparsely decorated, with only the
bed, chair and some miscellaneous medical monitoring equipment, which he
assumed were to monitor his health. A sliding door, which was slightly ajar, took
up one length of the room, from floor to ceiling, and was obviously the source
of the warm breeze. The window was slightly tinted one-way glass, Jon could
only assume. Beyond the door Jon could just make out the sight of green grass
and trees in full bloom. The slight red-tint of the sunlight streaming through
the door was the final confirmation Jon needed to know they had made it to
their destination. Eden Prime.

The sound of the door sliding open was enough to rouse Sofia
from her light sleep. She looked around, disorientated, for a moment before her
gaze came to rest on Jon’s open eyes.

“Jon, you’re awake,” she exclaimed delightedly, throwing her
arms tightly around his neck. Covering the rest of her body with his, draping
herself across his bed.

While he was ecstatic to once again have her in his arms,
the feel of her body against his, Jon’s gaze was instead locked on the amused
face of the doctor whose entry into their room had roused Sofia from her
slumber. Gently, but firmly, Jon disentangled Sofia from her embrace. “I am
fine, thank you Princess,” he replied brusquely, purposefully ignoring her hurt
expression. “Doctor where am I? How long have I been unconscious?” He directed
this question at the doctor, hoping to draw his attention away from the very
improper actions of a certain Imperial Princess, who shouldn’t even be touching
another individual.

“In answer to your questions, you are currently in the
Imperial Military Medical Centre on Eden Prime. After transferring you from the
Intrepid
we ensured you were stabilised, before cloning the necessary
skin grafts for your back. I am sure you will be pleased to hear you are
recovering nicely; the pain is a good sign. It means your nerves are
reattaching themselves to the new skin. You should make a full recovery,
although your back will be stiff and painful for several weeks. I would not
recommend any strenuous physical activity.” The Doctor delivered this medical
prognosis with a knowing smirk that irked Jon no end. “In answer to your second
question, we kept you in an induced coma for the past week, to allow the skin
graft to take.”

“A week,” Jon exclaimed, astonished. No wonder his legs felt
so rubbery. “I need to get up, I have to make a report to Admiral Sterling,
Harkov
—
” Jon trailed off, realising that the Admiral would
not be best pleased hearing the report about the Emperor’s death from a doctor.