by Mike Smith
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.”
Chapter Five
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 20th 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 65oC, night time temperatures reported as low as minus 35oC. 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.”
