by Mike Smith
“So this is the great Praetorian Commander the boss warned us about?” He said, walking around Jon’s prostrate body. A sharp kick to the ribs caused Jon to collapse with blood mixed with spittle dripping onto the floor.
“Yeah, well you should see me on one of my better days,” Jon wheezed out, his ribs tender from where the boot had hit him. “Otherwise I would have kicked all of your asses by now.”
The other guards just laughed, as the lead guard once again kicked him in the ribs, but on his other side this time. Unable to support his own weight, Jon went crashing to the floor once again, whilst breathing rapidly and painfully.
“So any last words?” The guard enquired, coming to a stop once again, just in front of Jon’s face.
Struggling once again to his hands and knees, Jon quickly cast his gaze around the room, taking note of the exact position of each of the guards surrounding him. “Yeah,” Jon coughed. “Two words actually.”
“Oh?” The lead guard asked, lifting the sword in his hand, preparing to decapitate him.
“Yeah,” Jon said, eying the position of his sword, fixing it into the mental map he had built of the room and the position of all the guards.
“Lights off!” he called out loudly and the room suddenly plunged into darkness.
Jon’s unexpected action caught the guards unprepared and gave him enough time to act. As he knew exactly where the sword was positioned, it was easy for him to pitch forward in the darkness and grab the blade of his sword in one hand.
His sword had been calling out to him ever since he had been separated from it the day before. It was like a beacon in a storm, always calling out the correct course to him. Catching the blade, reversing its direction, with the point facing back towards the lead guard, Jon used his other hand to push the hilt of the sword forward. Jon didn’t even wait for the scream of pain from the guard to know that he had hit his target. Instead with the position of all four guards fixed in his head, he rolled to the right and with a broad sweep of his sword he felt it bite into flesh, another scream. Next Jon rolled to the left, sweeping his sword backwards in the opposite direction, resulting in another cry of pain. Finally Jon slid backwards, reversing the blade, thrusting it behind him.
Through nothing but air, as the guard had moved.
Unfortunately that last remaining guard followed up this very smart move with an incredibly stupid one. He fired his pulse pistol. Having little idea of where their prisoner was, the likelihood of actually hitting him with a single random shot was infinitesimal. However, the bolt of energy from the pistol briefly illuminated the room, highlighting his own position. Jon was there in an instant, his sword once again rising and falling, and this time he did not miss.
“Lights,” he called out, once again illuminating the room. However, where once had stood four guards, surrounding him, with pistols drawn, ready to end his life, now only he stood, almost in exactly the same position as where he had started. Three of the guards were now still, eyes lying open vacantly, their throats having been cut. The fourth guard, the lead guard who had originally been holding Jon’s sword, was lying on his back, moaning, holding his hands to his stomach and desperately trying to stem the thick flow of blood.
Looking at the scene of death around him impassively, Jon made his way towards the exit. Pausing only briefly, he stabbed his sword downwards, through the heart of the only guard remaining alive. With eyes like dark obsidian and with an unrestrained fury, Jon left the bodies lying there as he exited the room and began his hunt for Sejanus.
Jon had warned Sejanus of the consequences of his actions. For this was only a taste of the destruction that he was about to unleash, on this system, this planet and this man.
*****
The chime of the door interrupted Sejanus from the task currently at hand. Unlike the last interruption, this one was not expected and was most definitely not welcome. “What?” He screamed in frustration, trying to restrain the woman at the same time as unzip her flight suit, actions that had been eluding him for the past few minutes. “I’m busy!”
There was a pause from the other side of the door, as the messenger weighed the pros and cons of continuing to deliver his message, especially considering the mood of his master. However, he had insisted on being immediately informed of this news so, taking a deep breath, he continued. “The Valiant has just arrived in orbit, and they are reporting a successful retrieval of the Princess. They are currently en route to the surface via shuttle.”
Sejanus paused for a moment, as the news seeped into his consciousness.
The Princess.
After all these years, to finally have her here, in his grasp. However, he was now facing a quandary, as he stared down at the stunning brunette currently twisting beneath him and trying to dislodge him. The sudden image of the Princess, likewise pinned underneath him, terror in her eyes, came to mind and Sejanus instantly felt himself getting aroused. He would take her in front of her father, the Emperor, it would be the ultimate indignity. Sejanus could feel himself hardening at just the idea.
“Come,” he shouted to the messenger. “Watch her.” Sejanus instructed him as he strode from the room. “I’ll be back shortly to finish with her.”
Miranda let out great gulping breaths of relief as the door slid shut, leaving her alone. Her cheek throbbed from where Sejanus had struck her and she had a multitude of small cuts and bruises from trying to fight him off. So terrified at what nearly happened and so relieved Sejanus was finally gone, it took her a long while for his last words to register.
The Princess. Sofia. She was here.
She had briefly met the older woman when she had arrived at Terra Nova some weeks earlier. At the time she had not paid much attention to her, as she was so wrapped up in her own grief at the loss of Jon. However, the few words they did exchange were warm ones, of shared regret and loss. Miranda had come to respect the inner strength and quiet dignity of the Princess, while at the same time hating her. For Miranda knew Jon’s heart belonged to her.
However, no matter the ambivalence of her feelings toward the other woman, no way would she ever wish to subject her to that monster. To have him inflict all the perverted acts Sejanus had kept whispering he was going to do to her. She had to help her, but how?
Jon. She had to find him. Struggling to her feet she slowly started to make her way unsteadily towards the door, when it once again slid open. For a terrifying instant Miranda thought Sejanus had changed his mind and returned to finish what he started. However, as she took a step back she realised it was not Sejanus who stood framed in the door, but the messenger who had arrived moments earlier, the one Sejanus had ordered to watch her. As the guard took another step towards her, Miranda recognised the look of hunger in his face, the same look Sejanus had been projecting only minutes earlier.
Can nobody on this planet find their own woman?
With another step backwards, she found her back was now pressed firmly against the wall. Realising there was nowhere else to run, she took another deep breath, in preparation. As the guard came within striking distance of her, Miranda once again lashed out with her free hand, clawing at his eyes.
Fortunately this time she wasn’t facing a Praetorian Guard and the man cried out, stumbling backwards, his hands covering the deep scratches Miranda had inflicted on his face. Taking advantage of his distraction, Miranda tried to kick him in the stomach. Unfortunately, already groggy from the earlier blow, she missed and hit his kneecap instead. With a cry of pain he fell to the floor.
“Way it go for David’s unarmed combat training,” Miranda voiced out loud, relieved. However, she had spoken too soon as the guard stumbled back to his feet cursing and, reaching to his belt, he withdraw a long, wicked-looking knife.
Gulping, Miranda desperately looked around for something to use to defend herself, but once again there was nothing at hand to use.
Jon, now would be a really good time to keep your promise.
*****
Jon meanwhile was having problems of his own. Having left to look for Miranda and Sejanus, he quickly realised he had no idea where the man’s personal quarters were. The complex’s main computer was no help as, having found a terminal, it insisted Jon enter his authorisation code. Unfortunately, Jon did not possess one, and his knowledge of computers was extremely limited—that was Jason’s forte not his.
Hence Jon had to settle for the next best thing and ask for directions. This turned out to be easier said than done, because while the civilian area of the complex was busy, the restricted area for Tyrell Corporate executives was sparsely populated. However, eventually Jon rounded a corner, identical to a dozen others he had already walked round, with no idea if he was even walking in circles, when he spotted a young executive dashing to a meeting, or wherever it was young executives went these days.
Putting a pleasant expression on his face, Jon stepped into the middle of the corridor, blocking the route of the young man. Obviously used to having others step out of his way, instead of him having to do likewise, he looked up with obvious irritation and could only gape.
“Who the hell—,” he exclaimed, but was cut short as Jon hefted him against the nearest wall with an arm slung tightly under his throat, leaving the man’s feet dangling a couple of inches from the floor.
“Sorry for not introducing myself,” Jon apologised with forced pleasantry. “My name is Commander Radec and I am running late for an appointment with Sejanus. Now if you could point me in the right direction, to his personal quarters?”
The young man’s eyes looked left and then right, obviously desperate for some assistance, but regrettably for him in this instance there was nobody around to help. So instead the young man smirked and was about to open his mouth when—
Jon pressed harder against his neck and, leaning forward, whispered, “I am running extremely late and hence do not have time to go on a wild goose chase.” With that Jon drew his sword, resting the edge inches from the man’s throat. The executive went cross-eyed trying to look at the blade, unsure if it was his imagination or the shortness of breath that made him swear the blade seemed to be vibrating slightly, almost in anticipation.
“Second corridor, third door on the right,” the man uttered quickly in a rush, eyes locked on the blade hovering in front of him. “Not that it will do you any good as his quarters have two guards stationed at the door and you’ll never make it past them—” The young man suddenly clamped his mouth shut, obviously realising he had said too much.
“My thanks for the advanced warning,” Jon replied, reversing the sword and hitting the youth on the side of the head with the hilt. The man dropped to the floor, unconscious. Reaching down Jon withdrew an energy pistol from the holster at the man’s waist. Normally Jon had little patience for such weapons, preferring his sword. But realising in this instance he could never have too many weapons, he stuck the pistol into his belt, at the small of his back, before hurrying in the direction the now unconscious executive mentioned.
He prayed to whichever deity might be listening he would not be too late, as he had sworn to Miranda he would not let anybody hurt her and he did not want to make a habit of breaking his promises.
*****
Having dispatched Jonas and Jackson after quickly agreeing to Jonas’ suggestion to switch uniforms with the now unconscious guards, Gunny turned his attention back to the now fully equipped Marines. Gone were the worn jumpsuits and vacant expressions. Now in their place was a group of battle hardened Special Forces, armed to the teeth, all encased in dark grey tactical armour. Most had forgone the usual pulse rifles and armed themselves with heavy, fully automatic assault rifles.
“Okay people, let’s move out. Remember we want to try and maintain the tactical element of surprise for as long as possible, hence let’s move quickly to the hangar bay. If we encounter any resistance, then we try and dispatch them quickly and quietly.”
The Marines proceeded rapidly to the door and, after ensuring the corridor was empty, slipped out into the complex.
“Hey Sarge,” one of the Marines called out, just as Gunny was about to follow. “Look what I found,” he exclaimed, holding up the six-inch serrated blade he had come across while searching the small armoury. It had been taken from Gunny the day before as they passed through security.
Gunny smiled in relief, taking the vicious looking knife and slipping it into his boot. “Thanks for that, I was worried I might have lost it.” With a final nod of thanks Gunny slipped out into the corridor, taking up the rear behind the group as they cautiously made their way towards the hangar bay.
*****
Sofia suddenly came awake, her throat dry, a fierce pounding in her head. She blinked rapidly, the bright lights of the room making it difficult to focus, as she desperately tried to remember what had happened. The last thing Sofia recalled was being on Memphis, escaping from the restaurant via the serving entrance, and then trying to escape from her captors. The very last thing she remembered was a bolt of excruciating pain hitting her in the back, spreading throughout her body and then there was nothing.
Relieved to find she could move unaided, she rolled to one side, delicately running her fingers underneath her blouse, along her lower back where she remembered being struck. She felt only smooth, undamaged skin and realised she must have been hit with some sort of stun weapon. She made a mental note to avoid being shot in the future.
A cold, humourless laugh, which made her blood run cold, interrupted her self-examination. Glancing in the direction of the sound, whilst trying to blink away the tears from the bright lights, she eventually managed to focus on the owner of the laugh. Sofia instantly recognised the face, and had half-expected it, especially after Albert’s revelation on Memphis that Sejanus was still alive. A flash of fear crossed her face, as she came face-to-face with her worst nightmare and relived once again the night that had permanently and irrevocably scarred her forever.
*****
The young Princess came awake with a start, wondering what had awoken her. It was pitch black in her personal sleeping chambers on the Imperial Star, one of the multitudes of rooms that made up the personal apartments of the Imperial Emperor, Marcus Aurelius.
Casting her gaze around the room, she could not see anything out of place. Her clothes for the following day, neatly pressed and folded, rested on the back of her dresser. Some papers were spread across her writing desk, left over from her studies the night before. Even farther away she could see the stars shining through the large window on the far side of the room. The light from the stars was the only thing providing the small amount of illumination in the room.
Shrugging, as nothing appeared to be out of order, she rolled over in preparation for going back to sleep and came face-to-face with his dark eyes. A small part of her mind wondered how his eyes could be even darker than the pitch-black room. It was almost as if they were not eyes, but simply two holes in his head that were swallowing the darkness from the rest of the room. With her eyes slowly adjusting to the little light, she could make out his other features, the mop of dark hair, a square, angular face and dark, short, pointed beard.
“Sejanus!” Sofia exclaimed in fright, sitting up in bed, suddenly aware the thin silk camisole was her only item of nightwear. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest, unsure of whether she did to block his piercing stare or to ward off the sudden cold. “Sejanus you scared me,” she said. “What are you doing in my quarters so late?”
Sejanus did not respond, just continued to stare at her with a dark, heated gaze. His stare started to make Sofia feel uncomfortable, not that she was ever comfortable around this man. Of all her father’s Praetorian Guard, it was this one who scared her the most. He seemed to be around her constantly, always following her with his eyes with a demanding, hungry expression. Now here, alone, in her personal bedchamber, late at night, that fear was growing exponentially into full-blown terror.
Reaching out with a calloused hand, he combed his fingers thr
ough her hair. “So pretty,” he whispered breathlessly. Then blinking his eyes, as if coming to his senses he added. “I am inspecting what has been promised to me.”
“Promised to you? I don’t understand. I don’t know what you are talking about. Leave me please. You are starting to frighten me.”
However, instead of retreating, Sejanus tightened his fingers around a ringlet of her hair and tugged sharply. The sudden flare of pain caused Sofia to tilt her head sharply back and Sejanus took the opportunity to run two of his fingers down the length of her neck. His eyes widened, his breathing became louder, deeper and more ragged.
Having grown up in her father’s court, surrounded by officers and politicians, protected by her father’s elite Praetorian Guard, Sofia had never faced or even contemplated what was happening to her. Terrified out of her mind she could not move, could not utter a word and only stared in complete panic into Sejanus’s eyes. As his fingers wandered lower, to the strap of the camisole and then underneath, Sofia finally came to her senses. Opening her mouth in preparation to scream, she found it suddenly covered by one of his rough calloused hands.
“Quiet,” he whispered, his tongue reaching out to lick the edge of her ear. “You are so beautiful I cannot help myself, I just need a taste and a sample of what has been promised to me.” With this he bit the edge of her ear, while his free hand disappeared underneath her thin camisole. Sofia cried out in a mixture of pain and fear, but the hand roughly covering her mouth silenced it. Sofia could feel his cold, slimy hand inching across her breast until it reached her nipple. It was already hard, from the cold or terror, Sofia did not know which. Sejanus just rubbed against her cheek and roughly pinched it between his thumb and forefinger.
Sofia whimpered in pain.
Quickly, the hand was then withdrawn and Sofia almost cried out in relief, thinking the worst was now over. However, Sejanus still held her tightly, his hand still pressing over her mouth, his other hand this time going lower, above her camisole, pausing only for an instant to caress the nipple that he had so painfully pinched moments before. As his hand started to wander even lower, Sofia finally realised his intent and began to struggle frantically, but still Sejanus held her tightly.
