The Sunfire
Page 31
Sofia hated guns ever since the incident almost five years ago when she had shot and killed an assassin who was just about to shoot Jon… She had nightmares about the incident for months thereafter, although she was unsure if it was her shooting the assassin or Jon almost dying in her arms that frightened her most.
The pistol flared in her hand, and Sofia could feel the heat from the discharge of the weapon. She could picture the green bolt of energy impacting the young man on the chest and hear his scream of pain. Then nothing but silence. Opening her eyes, she stared reluctantly at the body on the floor, picturing the black smoking hole where his chest had once been. But his chest was unmarked and the man seemed unharmed but was unconscious. Sofia felt relieved when she realised Jon must have left the pistol on its stun setting.
“You shot him.” Came the incredulous cry from behind her. “After hitting him in the face with a datapad.”
Sofia could not decide if her father was more shocked or horrified. Sofia just shrugged. “He’s only stunned.”
“Shot? Stunned? You are an Imperial Princess, by the great Maker. You have a reputation to maintain. You cannot go around hitting and shooting people. What would the Senate think?”
Sofia could think of a good number of Senators she would very much enjoy hitting and shooting, but did not say anything out loud.
“Anyway who taught you to do such things?”
Sofia just shrugged. “Jon did. I spent some time with him and his family and he suggested some self-defence training would help me.”
“Self-defence training?” This time her father did sound aghast. “That’s his job not yours. Anyway back up a minute. You spent some time with his family? I didn’t know that the Commander had any family—he never talked to me about them.” Her father sounded quite put out by his exclusion.
“He’s got a mother and father on Altair. He’s the eldest of two, but his younger sister died from a genetic disorder when she was very young. I get on well with his parents, they are good people.” Sofia glanced at her father, as he had gone very silent then rolled her eyes at the wide grin slowly crossing his face.
“I’ll look forward to meeting them at the wedding. Unless I have missed it?” He asked excitedly.
“No you have not missed the wedding,” Sofia sighed aloud, before clamping her mouth firmly shut. Realising that encouraging her father was just going to make things worse.
“So come on girl, fill me in. I have been waiting over five years. How is my Empire? I assume that you are still in charge. I hope that the fleet didn’t give you too many problems. I assumed the Commander would help you keep the Admirals in line.”
Sofia sighed for a second time. She had been hoping to put off this conversation, at least until they had left Tartarus. “Yes, I am still in charge,” she replied, telling one version of the truth. “Everything is running fairly smoothly, except for the odd incident.”
Like Jon blowing up your flagship with a nuclear warhead he stole.
“Jon dealt with the Fleet Admirals, they pretty much do as they are told these days.”
“And I hope that Jon has been treating you well?”
Sofia sighed despondently, unsure how to answer that question. For Jon had treated her with nothing but love and respect. She in return had taken him for granted and ignored him when he needed her the most. Finally, had come to believe he had betrayed her when instead it was her own father, her family that had betrayed him. Eventually she had driven him into the arms of another woman, before finally driving him out of her life totally. He had left without a word of complaint, although he must have been inconsolable, missing her desperately. Yet never once did he tell her the real reason he left, protecting her to the last. And she? She had thrown herself into her career, burying herself so deeply in her work she rarely had the energy left over to even spare him a thought. Not until the day she received a call from Paul telling her of the grave danger that he was in. It wasn’t until that day she realised she had taken him for granted. She had always assumed he would always be around, if not at her side. It was only the thought of losing him forever that finally spurred her into action.
Sofia let out a sob of pain.
For so long she had been angry with him. She was the injured party, the spurned lover. Yet she had it all back-to-front. Jon was the one who had been betrayed. He was the one who had every right to be angry, yet what had he done? He had treated her with kindness, compassion and respect even after she had pushed him away. Yet now she knew it must have torn him apart. No wonder she pushed him into the arms of another women, first that blond temptress on Eden Prime and now Miranda.
“Oh, father,” she said stopping in the corridor, crying. “I have made such a mess of things. I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was so clever, but I wasn’t. I didn’t know a thing and now I don’t know how I can fix things. Jon must hate me so.”
Her father was quiet for a moment, not sure how to reply. He had been apart from his daughter for so long. In some ways he hardly recognised her. He remembered his fragile little girl who insisted on always sleeping with the lights on as she was afraid of the dark. Yet he could instantly recognise the pain, sorrow and loss in her expression. As every time he looked in a mirror he saw exactly those emotions reflected back at him.
“I have found there are very few things that cannot be fixed when they are broken,” he said thoughtfully. “If you have made a mess of things, then I will help you fix them. Know that whatever has happened or whatever will happen I will always be here for you, and love you. That bond can never be broken,” he said taking her into his arms. “And as for the Commander,” he continued on. “I seriously doubt he hates you and maybe things are not as broken as you imagine.” He had noticed the way in which the Commander looked at his daughter had not changed much over the past five years.
Sofia did not know how it was so, but just being surrounded by her father’s reassuring presence seemed to make her worries disappear. But suddenly she felt him tense in her arms.
Eyes wide, an expression of shock appeared on his face, which rapidly changed to a grimace of pain. He opened his mouth to try and say something, but no sound came out. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and suddenly Sofia found him slumped in her embrace.
“Father?” She cried in sudden fear, gently lowering him to the floor. It was only then that she noticed the guard standing several meters away, his pulse pistol pointed directly at them, finger already on the firing stud, ready to fire again.
“Get down,” a voice that she did not recognise shouted, from further down the corridor.
Quickly glancing back, Sofia could make out the outline of a figure in grey tactical armour with a large rifle pointing in their direction. Not knowing what else to do, who was friend or foe, she covered her father, who was now lying on the floor, with her own body. Closing her eyes tightly in preparation for another fatal shot.
However, the volley of gunfire seemed to go high. Sofia felt the heavy shells passing just above her head. Hearing a cry of pain, she looked up just in time to see the guard thrown back down the corridor, his chest disappearing in a cloud of blood.
“Ma’am are you hurt?” A voice enquired from just behind her.
Sofia turned around to look into the face of the sandy-haired young man who had earlier called to her, telling her to take cover. Her eyes took note of the tactical armour and heavy rifle, now slung over his shoulder. “No, I’m fine. Who are you?” She asked breathlessly.
“My name is Jonas, ma’am. I’m here with Chief Reynolds and the Commander to rescue your father.”
“You know who I am?” She asked blankly, not recognising the man.
“Yes ma’am. I was on Terra Nova a few weeks ago when you last visited. It was lucky that I recognised you.”
“My father,” Sofia suddenly remembered. “I think he has been shot.” She looked down at the grey pallor that had quickly spread across his face.
“I’ll carry him ma’am.
We have a medic in our team who can attend to him. Where is the Commander?”
“He said that he would be coming shortly,” she replied distractedly, still worrying about her father.
Jonas cursed, lifting the Emperor over his shoulder. Taking Sofia by the other arm he hurried back down the corridor towards the hangar bay.
Stepping through the door, the two of them came face-to-face with Gunny, whose expression rapidly went through the full gamut of expressions from shock, surprise and disbelief to finally settle on a wiry grin. “Princess,” he stepped forward bowing his head slightly. “I should probably say that it is a surprise seeing you here, but to be honest it’s been a strange couple of weeks. Right now I would not be at all surprised if Admiral Sterling himself stepped through that door.”
“I left him on Eden Prime,” Sofia replied distractedly. “My Father. I think he’s been shot. We need to help him.”
Jonas delicately lowered the older man to the floor, pushing away his jacket, seeing the angry burn mark from the energy pistol on the side of his chest.
“Medic!” Gunny and Jonas simultaneously bellowed.
*****
I should have just shot the bastard!
Jon thought as he ducked a vicious slash from Sejanus’ sword. Jon did not think Sofia particularly cared how Sejanus died, as long as he was dead. Marcus probably cared even less. It was just Jon’s own stupid, stubborn pride that demanded he beat him in a fair fight. Considering how badly this duel was going it was possibly going to be the last mistake he ever made.
While Jon believed there wasn’t a man, or woman for that matter, alive who could best him with a sword, that had been many years ago... In the past five years Jon could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he had wielded this weapon. The last time was only a few months before when a group of Syndicate enforcers had invaded Terra Nova and he had fought off one of their squads. However, it was obvious Sejanus practiced regularly. In addition he was extremely fit from frequently working out. The most exercise Jon had in the past few months, was hobbling out of the medical bay after sustaining yet another life threatening injury. To say he was out of shape would be an understatement.
Instinctively Jon blocked the follow up thrust that would have disembowelled him, and gave Sejanus a boot in the chest for his troubles. Sejanus stumbled back for a second and then attacked again, quickly, with a riposte Jon was lucky to deflect.
“You are out of shape, Commander,” Sejanus laughed. “Marcus would have been better off with me as his successor. I am by far the better swordsman.”
Jon just grunted, catching Sejanus’ blade against his, as Sejanus continued to increase pressure, pushing his blade closer and closer to Jon’s face. Jon could feel a bead of sweat running down his forehead as the blade moved ever closer...
With a sharp twist of his wrist he deflected Sejanus’ sword, sending the blade careening into a table, taking a good slice out of it. Using the distraction, Jon slipped behind Sejanus, hammering an elbow into the side of the man’s ribs at the same time. But Sejanus quickly recovered his sword, the blow to his ribs seemed only to enrage him further rather than slowing him down.
“You should take care Commander. I was the only Praetorian who ever came close to beating Gideon with the blade, and Gideon is no longer alive,” Sejanus gloated, swinging his sword in wide arcs that caused Jon to dart backwards, just out of reach.
“I’m sure that Gideon would have enjoyed nothing better than to be here, to disembowel you in person. However, in his absence I will be happy to oblige,” Jon insisted.
“You are but a pale imitation of him, Commander. I am surprised Gideon ever handed over leadership of the Praetorians to you.”
“Who ever said Gideon handed anything to me?” Jon replied. “I took the mantle of leadership from his cold dead body.”
For the first time during the duel, a hint of doubt crept across Sejanus’ expression. “That's not possible,” he muttered. “Nobody ever defeated Gideon with a blade.”
“Nobody had ever defeated him, before me,” Jon corrected him. Seeing a gap in his defences, he struck out with a vicious thrust a panicked Sejanus desperately managed to parry at the very last moment.
“You’re lying,” Sejanus shouted. “Nobody could ever beat Gideon, he was too strong.” With a cry that was part anger and part fear he leapt towards Jon with a brutal overhead chop. Jon managed to bring his own sword up just in time, but still the jarring force of the blow drove him to his knees. Sejanus continued to push down with all his might and Jon could feel his own muscles begin to tremble and falter, as he observed the sharp edge of the sword close to his face.
“I defeated him just as I will you,” Jon replied. “Only the strongest Praetorian leads. Gideon was a great leader, but I was better. I was not faster than him, nor was I as strong as him, but I had something that he lacked.”
“What?” Sejanus demanded.
Closing his eyes, Jon reached down inside of himself, to that little piece of his soul where he harboured his feelings for Sofia. For as long as he could remember, whenever the situation seemed impossible or hopeless, he had drawn on her strength.
He could still remember the very first time, in a situation similar to this one, when he was exhausted and on his knees. All of the Praetorians were staring at him impassively as he had fought Gideon with every inch of his being, using every trick he possessed, every last reserve he had, until he had nothing left.
Yet it had not been enough.
Gideon was faster than him, stronger than him. Every blow he had struck, Gideon had anticipated and countered it. It was useless. He could not defeat him.
The knowledge he was about to die did not frighten him. He had stared at death too many times before, lost too much, too many friends to really care. Sometimes he even thought that he welcomed it. No more fighting, no more struggling, and no more pain. Yet, for the first time ever Jon also felt something else—regret.
Using the last reserves of his strength Jon raised his head, looking past Gideon, past the surrounding Praetorians, past even the Emperor himself, to the young woman with flaming red hair and deep emerald-green eyes, kneeling beside her father. The woman who was currently staring at him with a look of dread.
The first time Jon had ever seen the Princess he could not trust his eyes, as he did not believe anyone so beautiful could possibly exist. Since then he had spent a little time in her company and had become enamoured by her clever wit, charming personality and a smile that could brighten a whole room. Occasionally she had touched him, although Jon knew she shouldn’t, and it had felt like molten fire, wrapped in silk. Jon had never been touched like that before, by someone with such soft, delicate skin.
Looking at her now, Jon came to realise that given time he could possibly even come to love her. To fill that gap in his heart that had been present ever since fate had cruelly taken his sister from him. However, time was something Jon knew had run out as he sensed Gideon behind him. Jon could feel Gideon’s mighty blade being lifted up ready to cleave Jon’s head from his body.
No! He would not let it end like this. Not when he was so close to finding something he had spent all of his life searching for.
Grasping the sword at his side Jon brought it up blocking the sweeping blow that would have decapitated him. Jon looked up into Gideon’s stunned expression and just for an instant Jon thought he had seen something else lurking in the man’s eyes. Had that been pride in them?
Coming back to reality Jon staggered to his feet, and came face-to-face with an astounded Sejanus.
“This ends now,” Jon insisted surely. “It’s time for Sofia to be free from the shadow you have cast over her. For her to no longer look into the dark, and wonder if you are hiding there.” With a heavy overhead blow that staggered Sejanus, Jon took a step forward. With a cry that came from the very heart of him, Jon swung the blade with an almighty roar, the blade glowing brighter and brighter until it seemed almost incandescent.
Jon knelt down so that he could look Sejanus in the eyes. He felt at least Sejanus deserved to know why he was dying. “Gideon told me the secret, although at the time he did not realise it,” Jon explained. “For Gideon told me I must fight with my head, not my heart. But I could never beat him that way, as Gideon was always one step ahead of me. I could never beat him by outthinking him. So I stopped trying. Instead of listening to my head I listened to my heart. A person fighting with their head can do remarkable things,” Jon explained softly. “But a person fighting with their heart?” Jon looked down at Sejanus’s broken sword, a Valerian sword which was famed throughout the galaxy for being unbreakable. “A person fighting with their heart can achieve the miraculous. Goodbye Sejanus.”
With a kick of his boot Jon pushed Sejanus’s dead body from his blade. With a final glance around the apartment that had imprisoned Marcus for so long, Jon turned his back on the room.
It was time to go home.
*****
“Heads up. We have uninvited guests,” Jackson whispered quietly to Jonas.
“How many?” He replied having just retaken his position after delivering the Emperor to their medic.
“Looks like a dozen or so, a reinforcing squad.”
Jonas spared a quick glance around the corner, confirming what Jackson told him. “Okay let’s wait for them to get a little closer.”
“You know, this reminds me of that time on Ophiuchi.”
“How so?”
“You know. Just you, me, and a couple of dozen of them,” Jackson replied pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
“I seem to remember on Ophiuchi we were the ones trying to capture the hangar bay, not the other way around,” Jonas frowned.