The Last Praetorian (The Redemption Trilogy)

by Mike Smith

  With a slash of the sword he swung at the Princess - neatly cutting the shawl that was draped across her shoulders. Using the point of the sword he picked up the severed shawl from the ground and hovered it in front of the bowed face of the young man.

  In a clear voice Jon exclaimed to the room, “I understand that in the past, on Old Earth, Princesses used to offer their knights a token of their gratitude for defending their honour. I think in this case you justify the reward.”

  Surprised the young man raised his head to glance at the scrap of fine cloth draped across the sword, glancing up at the Commander in disbelief and with a spark of…hope he gently reached out, taking the offering from the Commander. Sheathing his sword the Commander offered his hand to the younger man with the explanation. “You showed an uncommon amount of courage boy; one that seems to be lacking in the fleet these days…” Jon cast his gaze around the room, but nobody would meet it. “Those qualities would make a fine officer… one day.” With that, as way of an explanation Jon helped pull the younger man to his feet and towards the exit.

  “Let’s get you to Medical so the doctor can have a look at that nose…we can work on a story on the way of how you shed blood defending the honour of the fair Princess. We will just be a little vague on whose blood was shed…I am sure the doctor will find the whole business extremely entertaining.”

  Just before the doors to the officer’s lounge slid shut, Jon glanced back at Princess Aurelius, standing alone in the space left by their exit, with a faint smile on her face.

  *****

  Having dropped the young man off at the medical bay and having been assured that he would make a full recovery, Jon was peering into a mirror observing the bruise that was starting to form.

  “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Jon cursed loudly. “You can never walk away from a fight and damn the Princess for, for…” Jon was not entirely sure what to blame the Princess for, but was sure that there was equal blame, somewhere… A chime from the door interrupted his self-castigation, with somebody requesting permission to enter.

  Glancing at the chronometer in his quarters Jon muttered, “It’s three in the morning, this had better be very important! Come!” He called. As the door slid open a figure quickly glided into the room and the door slid smoothly shut. The visitor was shorter than Jon and wearing a white cloak that masked his or her features. However a glance of red hair and green eyes peering out from under the hood started to give Jon a horrible premonition.

  “Do you always greet your guests shirtless?” Princess Aurelius inquired pushing away the hood from her face. Jon could only stare at the sight of the Imperial Princess sneaking into his personal quarters at 3 o’clock in the morning in muted shock!

  Finally recovering his wits, he gasped. “Have you taken complete leave of your senses? You cannot be here! If anybody saw you and word reached your father, he would, he would…” Actually Jon was not entirely sure what the Emperor would do, but he was very much attached to his head and would prefer that it remain…well, attached.

  “Stop fussing, nobody saw me. I have spent most of my life on this ship and know how to get to places without being observed…” Jon did not want to even contemplate the implications of that statement. “Please put on a shirt, I don’t want to give people the wrong impression.” Jon had a sudden vision of somebody walking in on this meeting at three in the morning with her royal highness, Princess Aurelius, jewel of the empire in his presence and him being half naked… He made a grab for the nearest shirt and quickly buttoned it up to make himself somewhat presentable.

  Fixing the Princess with another angry stare Jon re-iterated his earlier question. “What are you doing here in my quarters at three in the morning?”

  “Why Commander,” Sofia replied coquettishly. “Would you have preferred to meet me in my quarters? I could always ask my father…”

  Once again Sofia had got the better of him and Jon started to realise that along with beauty the Princess had also inherited her father’s razor sharp intellect. Realising that this was not the way to spar with the Princess instead he fell back to his formal bearing. “Not at all Princess, I am always ready to serve you and your father. I was simply inquiring how I could be of assistance.”

  Sofia frowned at his formal response and replied with an impish smile, “I think I preferred you without the shirt. Anyway, as to why I am here I wanted to understand your actions earlier this evening.”

  Thinking back to the events in the officer lounge Jon tried to think what particular action she was referring to. Remembering his anger directed towards her, that it was though her actions that young man had to suffer and slashing the sword towards her… “Princess Aurelius I would never have harmed…if my actions frightened you…” Jon tried to explain.

  Sofia’s eyes clouded in confusion for a moment before she understood what Jon was referring to. Her expression softening, she moved forward to lay a delicate hand on his chest. Jon could feel the heat of her palm pressing though the thin shirt and for a brief moment regretted having put on the shirt.

  “You never harmed me and I was never frightened by what you did. Ever since father made you head of the Praetorians I have always felt… safe with you around, knowing that nothing could harm me as they would have to go through you - my own white knight, with his magical sword.” Sofia explained wistfully with a hint of sadness.

  Jon took a few moments to consider what her life must have been like, growing up without a mother, surrounded by her father’s court. Deciding that this topic of conversation was getting too personal Jon instead replied truthfully to her earlier question. “You wanted to know why I spared the boy’s life?” Sofia made a small nod to acknowledge that this is indeed what she had been asking about.

  “I have seen too much senseless death and destruction over the years.” Jon tried to explain haltingly, “from the unification wars, through to the separatist struggles and pirate attacks. I just did not want another senseless death on my conscience tonight. Anyway…” Jon replied with a grin, “I am not that old and can clearly remember doing stupid things to try and impress the most beautiful girl at the party!”

  Sofia seemed to mull his answer over in her head for a few moments before smiling softly and leaning forward kissed him on the cheek gently.

  “Well…” she blushed slightly at her obviously impulsive action, “thank you for not hurting him. I had better get back before father starts to wonder where I am.” Nodding in understanding Jon released his arm from around her waist, which seemed to have moved there of its own volition when she had kissed him.

  As she stepped through the door, Sofia looked back and commented with a smirk, “So you thought I was the most beautiful girl at the party?”

  However, the door slid shut before Jon had a chance to reply. Shaking his head at the entire surreal encounter, Jon decided that it was time that he got some rest.

  *****

  “…I left the young man in the care of the senior flight surgeon Doctor Richardson,” Jon said. “He assured me that the young man would make a full recovery.”

  The room was completely silent for a few moments as Jon finished recounting the events that transpired in the senior officer’s lounge the previous evening. Jon had come to the conclusion several hours earlier to leave out what had transpired in his quarters after the fight in the officer’s lounge. That would have raised more questions than answers.

  Eventually the Emperor seemed to rouse himself from his contemplation and gazed at the Commander unblinkingly for a moment. Meeting the Emperors gaze unflinchingly, inside Jon idly wondered if the Emperor already knew about his daughter’s late night visitation. It was not as if the Emperor was lacking enough spies within the Imperial Fleet.

  “Shortly after I had a visit from the foolish boy’s mother, you might know her…Senator Rione of the Callas Republic?” The Emperor suddenly announced, breaking the silence. Jon visibly winced; the Callas Republic was one of the larger factions within the Imperial Se
nate, very old and very powerful.

  “She requested your head, followed by your corpse,” the Emperor added. “I forgot to inquire which she wanted first,” he added drolly. Jon was about to respond but a raised hand from the Emperor forestalled any response. “Some time later, I had a visit from the young gentleman who stridently defended your actions… I couldn’t fully understand all his arguments as his nose was heavily swollen and he had to keep stopping mid-sentence to get his breath, but I think I understood the essence of what he was trying to saying…” Jon had to forcibly close his mouth, which had opened in shock.

  “The senator’s son…defended my actions?” Jon inquired incredulously.

  “Indeed,” the Emperor let a small smirk appear on his face. “You seemed to have made quite an impact on the young man, if you will pardon the pun. He was strident in his desire to join the fleet as an officer.”

  “He is certainly brave enough,” Jon muttered under his breath. Having the nerve to first draw a weapon on a Praetorian Guard and then demand an audience with the Emperor himself. “This was why you required my presence?” Jon inquired, surprised.

  “No,” replied the Emperor, “although I must confess to a certain amount of curiosity about what transpired, as it is the talk of the fleet, about how you tried to kill my daughter and were only stopped by the valiant efforts of one of her friends, or how you saved my daughter’s life from a determined assassin… depending on which set of stories you want to believe.” The Emperor stated with a glint in his eye. Jon could only roll his eyes at the fleet scuttlebutt, by the end of the week the story would only have grown more absurd.

  “I have a task for the Praetorians,” the Emperor continued to explain his real reason for the audience. “I have an important cargo that I want delivered to Eden Prime. This cargo is priceless and I want it delivered unharmed.” Jon raised an eyebrow at these unusual orders; it was not the Praetorians usual duty to act as cargo-haulers – not even for extremely valuable cargo. There was something that he was missing… “Due to the nature of the cargo you will be carrying I expect you to personally deliver this piloting the Eternal Light.” This was an even greater shock to Jon as while he had flown the Eternal Light on numerous occasions this was the twin ship of the Star Light, the emperor’s personal shuttle. As far as he was aware only the Emperor and his family ever travelled on this ship, which raised an interesting question of who, or what this cargo is, to which Jon had a terrible premonition…

  “The cargo that I will be transporting is?” Jon inquired hesitantly.

  “Is my only daughter, Sofia,” the Emperor responded, confirming Jon’s worst fear. “You have some concerns regarding this assignment?” He inquired, noticing the frown on Jon’s face.

  “Not at all!” Jon hurriedly tried to reassure his master. “Your daughter is certainly a lovely person….” The sudden silence that appeared after that statement seemed like a black hole that was suddenly engulfing. “And she had a great personality,” Jon was quick to add. “And I find her company to be very…” he continued.

  “Yes?” The Emperor prompted.

  Demoralising. Uncomfortable. Maddening. Painful. “Delightful,” Jon muttered, and somehow managed not to choke on the word. Jon clamped his mouth shut before he could do any more damage. The Emperor just pinned him with another one of his searing gazes and Jon once again wondered just how much he knew about their relationship.

  “My daughter is to finish her education on Eden Prime before commencing work at the Imperial Senate.” Jon knew for a fact that the Senate had been based on Eden Prime for the past two decades. With a sigh the Emperor motioned around the darkened room, with just the two occupants. “This is not the environment that I wanted to raise my family, however with the death of her mother I could not take the risk of being separated from her, however, now my little girl is growing up, she deserves her own life, to be able to stand on firm ground, to look up at the sky and feel the sun on her face.”

  “Who knows,” the Emperor continued after a brief pause giving Jon a knowing look, “she might meet somebody on Eden Prime and decide to settle down and start a family.” Jon kept his face impassive but inside was debating what action he would take if any such suitor approached Sofia. Thoughts of choking such a suitor to death felt very appealing.

  “I will protect your daughter with my life if necessary,” Jon reassured the Emperor. “No harm will come to her on Eden Prime while she is under the protection of the Praetorians.”

  And I’ll be making damn sure that no one comes within ten meters of her! Jon did not voice aloud.

  The Emperor frowned for an instant, as if he had been expecting a different response, finally acknowledging the response. “The Eternal Light is being refuelled on my orders as we speak. I expect you to be departing within the hour,” the Emperor ordered in a clear sign of dismissal.

  Jon was taken aback for an instant at the abrupt departure but quickly dropped to one knee and bowed his head in acknowledgement of his orders. Quickly striding from the room, grasping the sword at his side tightly to avoid tripping over it in his haste, his thoughts were ablaze with preparations to be made for their early departure.

  *****

  Jon was therefore distinctly annoyed that upon exiting the Emperor’s apartments that he came face-to-face with the last person that he wanted to meet – Commodore Harkov.

  Harkov was a thin man who, upon first seeing him, Jon thought look sleep-deprived and erratic. Jon had taken an instant dislike to the man. He maintained a high level of security and ran his ship very strictly, discouraging his subordinates from acting outside of their orders or asking unnecessary questions, all of which led to low morale on board. One incident, which Jon had been present to observe, occurred when Captain Thrace made a joke during a briefing by Harkov. The Commodore had struck him. Jon considered that Harkov embodied everything wrong with the Imperial Fleet, overbearing, inflexible, and more interested in personal gain than the ideals under which the Empire had been incorporated.

  “Commander, a word,” Harkov demanded with a strong voice that carried his authority as a senior Imperial officer.

  “I’m busy,” Jon replied brusquely without even breaking stride, forcing the Commodore to hurry to keep up with his longer stride.

  “That was not a request,” Harkov called. “Need I remind you that I am your superior,” he insisted.

  Stopping, Jon let out a hiss of frustration as he slowly counted to ten in his head before turning to face Harkov, his frustration plain for all to see. “No, you are simply a higher ranking officer, you are in no way superior, Commodore.” Jon placed just enough emphasis on his rank to remind him of his recent demotion by the Emperor.

  It was obvious that Harkov was struggling to maintain his composure at the obvious insult. “I want to know what you were just discussing with Marcus,” he demanded.

  “It was a private conversation,” Jon retorted. “I am sure if the Emperor,” Jon emphasised his title, “wishes you to be aware of the meeting, he will inform you himself. Now if you will excuse me.” Jon made it clear that he did not give a damn if he was excused or not, turning his back on the Commodore and continuing towards the flight deck.

  “Fuck you Radec!” Harkov shouted at his retreating form. “You son-of-a-bitch, you think you are somebody just because you are Aurelius’ latest lap-dog! I’ll have your head on a platter one day! You mark my words! You’ll get what’s coming to you. You’ll see, sooner, rather than later.”

  Stopping in the corridor and pivoting around to face the Commodore, Jon put his hand on the hilt of his sword and replied in a biting tone of voice. “On second thought Commodore I can probably spare a few minutes now.” Harkov just blanched before hurrying off in the opposite direction. With eyes as cold as the depth of winter, Jon watched until Harkov had rounded a corner and was out of sight before finally letting his frustration with the contemptible officer show. On the way towards the flight deck Jon could not shake the feeling that Har
kov was going to haunt him for many years to come.

  *****

  Arriving at the flight deck, Jon was aghast to find dozens of cases piled high, all slowly being loaded onto the Eternal Light. As they were all marked with the Aurelius family crest Jon was willing to place good money that they belonged to the Princess. Already in a torrid mood following his run in with the Commodore, Jon was in no mood to cater to the whims of her royal pain-in-the-ass.

  “Chief!” Jon bellowed towards the deck chief who was busy supervising the final pre-flight checks for the ‘Light.

  “Commander?” He queried, hurrying over to Jon.

  “What the hell is this?” He demanded motioning towards the cases some piled three, four high.

  “Princess Aurelius’ personal luggage,” the chief replied. “She ordered that it should all be loaded prior to your departure.” He explained apologetically, correctly deducing that the Commander was less than impressed with the unwanted additional cargo.

  “Dispose of it!” Jon snapped at the chief. His expression would have been comical had Jon been paying attention and not staring a hole at the small mountain of cargo, as if by sheer force of will he could make the small mountain vanish.

  “Excuse me, sir?” The chief stuttered in disbelief, not believing what the Commander just ordered.

  Turning his gaze back towards the deck chief, realising just how his previous instructions could have been interpreted he clarified. “Have the Princess’s cargo transferred back to her personal quarters on my orders,” he insisted. Wondering why the deck chief seemed to be rooted to the spot, and had not acknowledged his instructions, Jon followed his gaze across the bay to the sight of the rapidly-approaching afore-mentioned Princess. As the two officers watched her approach, Jon had time to appreciate the much more appropriate attire over the previous evening. With her red hair pinned up, with just a strand falling against her neck, which Jon suppressed the urge to brush back, and a long flowing red gown that matched her hair she looked every inch an Imperial Princess.