by Mike Smith
“Please help me,” Sofia cried desperately. “I must escape!”
The waitress looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I understand completely, honey. I’ve been on more than a few dinner dates like that myself. Head out the back, second door on the left. If anybody comes asking I’ll say that you went to the powder room.” The waitress pointed towards a door near the back of the kitchen.
With a nod of thanks Sofia fled through the kitchen, darting through the door that the waitress had pointed to in a blind panic.
She needed to get off Memphis.
Fortunately the door exited into a small side corridor and glancing either way, as she was unsure which way to go, Sofia noticed that one end of the corridor seemed to branch out into a much larger, busier corridor. Deciding that the best course of action was to mingle with the crowd, to enable her to disappear, she headed in that direction.
Unfortunately it turned out to be the wrong decision, as no sooner had she slipped into the crowd than a hand reached out, firmly grasping her by the arm.
“Stop right there miss,” a voice insisted firmly. “You look like the one we are looking for.”
Looking in the direction of the voice, Sofia’s heart sank as she looked into the face of another one of the uniformed guards. Holding her by one arm and gripping a datapad with the other, Sofia could easily guess what was on the device. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m already late for an important appointment,” she huffed, trying to bluff her way past.
“I don’t think so. You look exactly the same as the picture that we’ve been supplied with,” he said, motioning towards the datapad in his hand.
“Give me that!” Sofia snapped angrily, snatching the datapad from his hands. She glanced quickly at the picture on the device, not in the least bit surprised to see a very unflattering photo of herself, staring back at her. “That looks nothing like me,” she scoffed, pointing at the picture. “Do you think I have that sort of fat around my hips?” She screeched shrilly.
The guard made the mistake of taking his eye off her for a fraction of an instant to glance at the picture to double check. Sofia took the opportunity to slam the edge of the device into the man’s throat. Releasing his grip on her, his hands went to his throat and, with a gurgle, he collapsed to the floor, choking.
Suddenly she realised she was in the middle of a busy intersection and everybody had stopped and was staring at her in amazement. Glancing once more at the datapad, she dropped it onto the prostrate body of the guard, tossing her hair back and giving him a hard kick in the groin, which made most of the male audience wince.
“That's what you get for calling me fat,” she exclaimed in disdain, much to the roar of approval from the female audience.
The guard on the floor just groaned in pain.
After that the crowd soon broke up, the male members of the audience dragging their respective partners away before any of them got ideas of doing likewise in the future.
Sofia meanwhile marched away in the opposite direction, which turned into a dash as soon as she rounded the next corner. However, after a while, and convinced that she was not being followed, she slowed to a stop to catch her breath. Looking around at the deserted corridor she quickly concluded that she was completely, totally and helplessly lost.
Breathing deeply, she looked around for an idea of what direction she should take. However, slowly at first, but with frightening intensity, a cold feeling started to creep over her. Looking around intently, little things started to jump out at her, a crack here, a faded splash of paint there or a broken neon strip light. Sofia’s breathing stilled, as the cold reached her chest, clamping around her heart. For Sofia suddenly knew exactly where she was. She was standing almost exactly on the spot where Jon had so nearly died. She could still see the stain on the floor, which no amount of scrubbing would ever totally remove.
Suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, she fell to her knees, with her head bowed to keep the darkness away. She could still remember the scene like yesterday. She could feel Jon pressing down on her, feel his blood seeping away and the light fading from his eyes. How could she have ever forgotten? How could she have so easily disregarded the promise she had made to him, to never leave him? For as she had kneeled over his broken and dying body, with him urging her to go, she had promised herself she would stay by his side, forever. No matter what the cost, whatever the price, even her own life. Back then she had seen the future of growing old alone, nobody to share her life with and had firmly rejected it. Yet what had she done but barely a few months later? She had turned her back on him, ignored him, driven him from her life and never looked back. She had become exactly what she had feared the most, alone. Nobody to love or to care for and, in return, nobody to care for her.
Kneeling there, on almost the exact spot where Jon had come so close to death, she made a new promise. She promised this time it would be different, as she had learned her lesson. She would find Jon, make things right between them and this time never let him leave, no matter how difficult things were.
Forever.
However, before she could stand, an excruciating pain erupted in her back, it quickly spread though her nerves until it encompassed all of her body. She had never felt pain like it before. Seconds before she fell into blissful unconsciousness, she turned, observing the guard in the black and silver uniform. His pistol pointed firmly in her direction.
After that, nothing.
Chapter Seven
Five Years Previously,
Eternal Light, Betelgeuse System
Jon was once again at the flight controls of the Eternal Light piloting the shuttle to their rendezvous point in the Betelgeuse system. The Betelgeuse system was one of the key strategic systems within the Imperium. A red supergiant star in the constellation of Orion, it was the eighth brightest star as seen from Old Earth and the second brightest star in the constellation of Orion. However its importance was not due to its luminosity, but instead the numerous shipyards that populated the system. Their combined output contributed to at least a third of the ship building capacity of the Empire and hence was home to the 4th Imperial Fleet, which was commanded by Admiral Timothy Alexeyev, the youngest and most ambitious of the fleet admirals. Jon was of the opinion that if any of the admirals were likely to revolt against Sofia’s succession, it would be him. Hence he was the first on their list to visit. Waiting for the shuttle to reach the designated coordinates, Jon thought back to five days earlier, when he first read Sofia’s draft Confederation Charter.
*****
Jon was roused from his deep slumber by the sound of running water and—singing? Jon blinked away the sleep from his eyes, wondering if he had slipped into some strange alternate reality. It was only when he glanced at the rumpled bed, with clothes haphazardly discarded everywhere that he remembered what had transpired the night before. He waited several minutes for the feeling of guilt and remorse to appear, but instead all he felt was a deep-seated sense of contentment.
After a time it dawned on him he could continue to lie in bed alone or join a hot, beautiful and very naked princess in the shower. Quickly deciding, Jon reached underneath the bed, looking for his pants, which had been discarded during their frantic coupling earlier. Instead Jon touched something hard and rectangular. Surprised, Jon picked up the object, bringing it to eye level. It was a datapad, and certainly not one of his. He vaguely remembered Sofia mentioning it during the night, something about her solution. At the time Jon had far more interesting things to focus on, namely a scantily clad, stunningly beautiful princess, with sparking eyes and pouty lips, which just begged to be kissed. Intrigued Jon activated the device and started to read the first line, The Confederation Charter (draft).
Sometime later Jon was so absorbed in the contents of the device, he failed to hear the water stop and the washroom door open. It was only when warm, freshly scrubbed skin rubbing against his, followed by some drops of water from Sofia’s still damp hair falling on h
im, that he was roused from his contemplation.
Sofia finally noticed the device in his hands and the carefree, playful, look in her eyes was replaced with a guarded uncertainty. “You read it?” She asked hesitantly.
Jon nodded.
“What do you think?”
Jon was quiet for a long time, long enough for Sofia to start having second thoughts about her decision. Finally he looked up from the device and asked softly. “This is what you really want? You would be sacrificing so much.”
“I want for us to have a chance,” Sofia insisted firmly. “If that involves some sacrifice then that is a cost I am willing to bear.”
Jon looked at Sofia doubtfully. “I don’t want you making a hasty decision, something you will come to later regret and you will come to resent me for,” Jon trailed off.
“Jon, I grew up without a mother and father,” Sofia explained earnestly. “My mother was taken from me by illness, but my father was taken from me by his duty. I do not want to grow old like that. Alone, with my responsibilities consuming every free waking hour. I want to be able to sleep in late some mornings, to have dinner with my family and spend some time with our children.”
Jon’s mouth quirked up at the mention of family, as he knew they had not discussed their future together, so caught up in the present, trying to save the galaxy.
Sofia noticed his smile. “What?” she asked.
“I am not going anywhere,” he insisted firmly. “You will always have me at your side, no matter what you decide. Be it as your friend, your lover or your husband. I’ll be with you, in whichever way you will have me.”
With a smile that lit-up her entire face, Sofia ran her finger down his chest. “Was that a proposal?” she asked shyly.
“It was a promise,” he insisted.
“I cannot do this alone,” she added. “While I can write this Charter, I have no idea how to make it a reality. I need your help.”
“The power-base for the Emperor has always been the Imperial Fleet. They are loyal to him personally and now to you. If you want to make this Confederation a reality, then you need to first convince them. Only with the support of the fleet will this come into being.”
“But how do I do that?” she asked, obviously frustrated.
Reaching his arms around her neck, he pulled her closer. Just before he took her mouth in a searing kiss he whispered to her.
“You command them.”
*****
The sound of the door to the cockpit sliding open interrupted Jon’s thoughts as Sofia stepped inside. Jon turned and could only stare at the vision in front of him. Before departing Jon had insisted to Sofia she needed to look the part. “Dress the part, look the part, act the part, and you will already have them half convinced,” he had told her. In Jon’s mind she had done all three—beyond his wildest dreams.
For, standing in front of him, she was dressed in long, flowing robes, similar to those worn by her father, the Emperor. However, unlike his, which were the deepest darkest black, hers were an incandescent pearl white. Perfectly sculptured to her lithe body, they showed off every one of her curves and spectacular figure. The white robes were perfectly offset by a single ringlet of flaming red hair, which trailed down the side of her face. The rest of her hair was done up in what Jon could only consider a masterpiece of sculpture. Jon had never seen anything as beautiful in his life. If Jon had ever imagined what an angel would look like, this would be it.
Lost for words Jon simply fell to one knee, just as he had genuflected to the Emperor, her father, and bowed deeply. “My Lady,” he whispered reverently.
Sofia’s eyes softened, looking down at this kind, honest man who had already sacrificed so much for her and her family. With a soft, “Commander,” she offered him her hand to help him stand. “Have we arrived yet?” She asked anxiously.
“Momentarily. Are you ready?”
“About as ready as I will ever be,” she replied nervously.
“They’ll love you,” Jon reassured her. Just as much as I do.
The flight computer chimed to report that they had reached their coordinates, the shuttle leaving FTL and returning to normal space interrupting their conversation. Several kilometres ahead, Jon could make out the blinking navigation lights of the 4th Imperial Fleet. The massive battleship, Invincible, flagship of the fleet easily visible, dwarfing the other, much smaller ships. Helping Sofia to the co-pilot seat, Jon opened a communication channel with the flagship, requesting docking permission.
“We don’t have you on the docking itinerary, Eternal Light,” replied the young officer, overseeing Invincible’s docking control.
“The Empress, Sofia Aurelius, does not need to ask permission to visit one of her flagships,” Jon replied in a chilling voice. “Give us a priority docking approach vector. Now or your career and possibly your life is going to be drastically curtailed,” Jon barked.
The young officer turned deathly pale, his eyes flicking between the Commander, the crossed swords emblem clearly visible on his uniform, denoting him as belonging to the elite Praetorian Guard and Sofia dressed in her immaculate robes of state. “Please wait,” he begged.
A few minutes later another face appeared on the view-screen. This was no young, easily intimidated officer, but an older man; with the Admiral rank insignia clearly visible—Fleet Admiral Timothy Alexeyev. With cold, calculating eyes he took in the scene with a single glance, arching his fingers together he stated with a shrewd smile. “Commander, Princess, this is indeed a surprise. What can I do for you?”
“Authorise our docking, Admiral. The Empress, Sofia Aurelius, has arrived to inspect one of her flagships.”
“The Empress?” Alexeyev feigned surprise. “I don’t see any Empress. I see a Commander with nobody to command, a loyal lapdog that’s missing his master and a spoilt little girl dressed up for a party that nobody else is going to attend. You have no authority here. I swore an oath to serve your Father, the true Emperor. When he turns up to command me, I will obey. Until then why don’t you fly back home and practice playing Empress and knight-errant in your own time. I’m busy.”
At Alexeyev’s dismissive tone, Jon’s face became more and more angry, until he had to grind his teeth together to stop himself swearing in fury at this disloyal officer.
However, before Jon could reply Sofia raised her hand towards him, stopping him, before turning to face the Admiral once again. “My father, the Emperor, is dead Alexeyev. You might not like it, but I am his only daughter. His responsibilities, his authority now passes to me and I am ordering you to permit us to dock.”
“You,” Alexeyev sneered dismissively. “Ordering me? You are nothing, Princess, a pretty little bauble that gets trotted out for formal occasions to look pretty and impress the politicians. You know nothing about the responsibility of command. You are just a spoilt, demanding little girl, all dressed up, and thinking that because of your father you have some sort of power over everybody else. You are nothing but arrogant and selfish, get out of my sight.”
At hearing these words, Sofia cast her gaze down despondently. The words cutting her deeply, for what the Admiral said was true. She had been spoilt and conceited, demanding attention from all around her and what could she offer in return? She had spent almost her entire life sequestered in the Imperial Star, studying, so what did she know about commanding a fleet and presiding over an Empire? What gave her the right to make such demands?
Yet Sofia remembered as a young girl, her mother stroking her hair, singing lullabies to put her to sleep at night, a mother who had been cruelly taken from her at a young age. Her father, the Emperor, who in the end had sacrificed everything to save her. Elsie and the fellow Praetorians who had sacrificed their lives, to allow her to escape. Jon who had repeatedly risked his own life to save hers. While bleeding to death on the floor, he had urged her to go, to save herself. All those who had sacrificed their lives for her, died believing in her. How could she allow their deaths to be so meaningless
?
Sofia knew with absolutely certainty if she did not command the Imperial Fleet that it would fragment. Arrogant, self-seeking officers like Alexeyev, who could not see beyond their own selfish desire for power and wealth. Who cared little about the lives that would be lost in the acquisition of that dominance. The outcome would be civil war, with tens of thousands, possibly millions dead. History would remember her as the last of the Aurelius line, whose failure destroyed everything that her family had spent the last five generations building.
Raising her head, Sofia looked Alexeyev in the eye, her eyes flashing furiously. “You poor excuse for an officer. How dare you accuse me of being arrogant? You who sits there with your immaculate uniform and polished medals, surrounded by this fleet. What have you ever sacrificed for the Empire? My family have sacrificed everything! My mother is dead. My father and the other Praetorians murdered, by another Admiral as arrogant as you, who thought he was better than everybody else. I don’t care what you think; I am my father’s daughter. I now rule the Empire in his stead, you serve the Empire, and therefore you serve me.”
Alexeyev blinked, staring at Sofia, shocked by her tirade, not even the Emperor had ever dared to address him with such contempt. Setting his jaw firmly he replied. “I’m the one commanding this fleet, Princess. Flee back home before I lose my patience with you.”
Eyes narrowing, Sofia replied. “You did not hear what I said Admiral,” she said spitting out his title like a curse. “I rule the Empire. I command the Imperial Navy. I command this fleet. I command this vessel, not you. You and your crew are simply guests. Guests who can easily be evicted.”
