by Mike Smith
Upon reaching the duo she pinned the chief with her imposing stare and demanded to know. “Chief, why is my luggage not loaded, I’ve been informed,” she huffed at the word, “that we will be departing imminently.”
Chief Reynolds looked towards Jon beseechingly and taking pity on the deck chief, after all he was only following his orders responded.
“Your luggage will be following you at a later date,” Jon replied in the most patronising tone of voice that he could muster. “Capacity constraints, I’m afraid your highness,” Jon’s voice rang with sincerity that was mocked by the gaping cargo hold that was open behind him that could easily contain twice the cargo that Sofia had ordered loaded.
Her eyes narrowed in fury at the obvious barefaced lie from Jon and was obviously about to let rip when a sly smirk came to her lips and instead she replied, in a voice dripping with honey. “Well I leave these sort of considerations to fleet personnel, as I am sure that you will have no objection to me being undressed during the trip… Commander.” She breathed softly against Jon’s cheek as she glided past. Picking up a smaller case from the top of the pile she turned to the two speechless officers and explained. “My face-paints, after all if I am not going to have a thing to wear, a girl needs to look her best.” She offered both gentlemen a stunning smile, before following the boarding ramp up into the shuttle.
It was only with her back to Jon that he saw that what he originally thought was a very demure gown possessed no back, with bare skin showing from her neck, though miles of expansive back ending just above her derrière.
Once she disappeared into the ‘Light both men let out an audible gulp.
The chief was well connected with the fleet scuttlebutt and like most had heard the rumours whirling around about Commander Radec and the Emperor’s daughter, and like most had dismissed than as fantasy, but well… you could power a reactor with the sort of sparks that those two were emitting. He cleared his throat again – which suddenly felt very dry.
“Not a word Patrick,” Jon ordered, “not a word.” He then followed the Princess into the Eternal Light to prepare the shuttle for departure.
*****
With the shuttle pre-flight checks complete, Jon eased the Eternal Light smoothly out of the flight deck into deep space. Barely a few kilometres from the Imperial Star the 58th Squadron fell into an escort formation around the lone shuttle, as Jon laid in a course for the nearest FTL jump point for Eden Prime. With the course laid in, a communication window superimposed on the cockpit display lit up to display the face of Lieutenant Elizabeth Zhang; Jon’s second-in-command of the 58th Squadron.
“Morning Commander!” Elsie cheerfully exclaimed, “So I understand that we have an extended babysitting duty for her royal-highness-pain-in-the-ass?” Jon frowned, glad that the Princess was back in the VIP quarters and not in the cockpit to hear that less than flattering description.
Elsie had always been one of the most vocal members of the squadron in terms of disparaging remarks against Sofia and Jon knew for a fact that she was not Sofia’s favourite either. He had long been varying the Praetorian’s schedule to ensure that the two of them were not alone together, after having to separate the pair after their last fight. Shaking his head in despair that he would never understand the inner workings of the female mind he focused his thoughts back on the task at hand.
“A simple escort mission, nothing more Lieutenant,” Jon clarified. “We escort Princess Aurelius to Eden Prime, hand her over to Senate security to take over her security detail then high-tail it back to the fleet; a cake-walk,” Jon exclaimed confidently.
“Will you be returning with the squadron or remaining on Eden Prime with the Princess?” Elsie inquired uncomfortably, refusing to meet his gaze.
“My place is at the head of the Praetorian’s, at the side of the Emperor,” Jon announced firmly. “I’ll be leading the 58th back from Eden Prime,” Jon insisted, wondering at the strange question. Jon was not sure if he imagined it or not but he thought he detected a slight blush on his second-in-command as she nodded in understanding.
“Understood Commander,” she acknowledged “The Praetorian’s will hold escort position until we reach safe FTL distance. ETA twenty minutes.”
Jon acknowledged the response and cut the communications link. Leaning back in his chair, as the ship was now under computer guidance he thought back to the unusual conversation with Elsie. Jon had known for some time that Elsie was developing a crush on him, however being her direct superior he refused to acknowledge it. Thinking back over the past few months Jon came to realise that Elsie’s bad-attitude to Sofia coincided with the increasing amount of time that he had been forced into spending with her. Eyes narrowing in sudden suspicion, Jon came to the conclusion that Elsie was jealous of Sofia! What with the increasing rumours that had been spreading through the fleet about the Princess and himself Jon came to realise that it would be good to have some separation from Sofia. Jon had been, for a while, unfairly holding Elsie back from promotion for his own selfish reasons. Elsie was long overdue her own squadron and at that point chain of command would no longer be an issue... Perhaps Elsie would help him overcome this emptiness that Jon had discovered within himself when he was around Sofia. Decision made, Jon leant back to relax waiting for them to reach minimum FTL safe distance from the star that the fleet had been orbiting.
*****
Jon was roused from his thoughts by an alert from the communication system. The fleet had suddenly started to broadcast on the emergency channel, before going dead. Mystified Jon checked the ship’s sensors, which confirmed that all was fine. The fleet, now many hundreds of kilometres astern was continuing to orbit the distant star, with no other ships or objects detected on the scanner. So why the sudden broadcast on the emergency channel? Assuming it was just an accident, Jon opened communications to the flagship, the Imperial Star… to which there was no response. Even more confused now, the Commander instructed the ship to run a self-diagnostic of the communication systems. All of which was working fine.
Another communication channel opened up from Elsie. “Commander, we have lost contact with the fleet,” she reported in an equally bewildered tone.
“Hold position here until we can re-establish communication,” Jon ordered as the door to the flight deck slid-open to reveal Sofia. Jon noticed Elsie’s gaze flicker to Sofia, for an instant, before darting back to Jon’s.
“Acknowledged sir, squadron will hold formation at this position until we re-establish fleet communication.” Turning away from the communication channel Jon noticed Sofia’s gaze fixed stonily on the now blank communication monitor.
For God’s sake, get over it you two! Jon thought to himself before inquiring of Sofia. “Something I can do for you, Princess?”
“I’ve lost our data-link with the Imperial Star,” she explained, “I was reviewing the current makeup of the Senate when the data-link dropped out and I cannot re-establish it…” Jon checked the communication system again which still reported that all data-links with the fleet were still down. Bringing Sofia up-to-speed on the current situation he explained that if they could not re-establish communication they would return to the fleet to determine the cause of the communication failure. However, the explanation was suddenly cut short by a communication from the Imperial Star.
“Finally!” Jon exclaimed stabbing the control to open the channel, ready to demand an explanation for the inexplicable loss of communications. However, Jon’s demand for an explanation died in his throat when the face of Commodore Harkov appeared, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a smirk on his face.
“Commander,” he started without any preamble “we have a situation here, there has been an unsuccessful coup attempt on the Imperial Star, we have now regained control of the ship but there have been…casualties.” Shifting his focus to Sofia he continued. “Princess Aurelius, I have to regrettably inform you that your father, Emperor Marcus Aurelius was killed by the traitors during the attempted coup
.”
Jon’s blood ran cold upon hearing this news. He had failed his master in the most grievous way possible. The sudden short gasp next to him reminded Jon that Sofia was far more affected, a daughter who had just lost her father. Glancing up at Sofia he noticed that her face had turned an ashen pale and she wavered on her feet for an instant. Grabbing her arm in a firm grip he helped lower her towards the empty co-pilot seat next to him. Jon’s thoughts meanwhile were in a whirl… When? What? How? However, his thoughts were interrupted by the Commodore’s next instruction, which made the hair on the nape of his neck rise in alarm. “Commander, I am ordering you and your squadron to escort Princess Aurelius back to the Imperial Star until we have a better handle on the situation.”
You cannot be serious!
To return Sofia to the ship where her father had just been murdered? The security around Sofia’s father, Emperor Aurelius was impenetrable. Jon should know, having spent most of the past few years as head of the Praetorians personally overseeing his personal security. Multiple layers of security ringed the Emperor; it would take somebody with extremely high rank to be able to have penetrated all of them. Suddenly Jon’s heart froze, as if somebody had clamped a fist around it. Staring into the face of the Commodore, who was unsuccessfully trying to suppress his smirk, the face of somebody extremely self-satisfied. Jon knew with absolute certainty the Commodore was behind this plot. Jon had always known that the man was a liar and cheat who hungered for power, but to move against the Emperor himself? Treason! Jon gripped the hilt of the sword at his side until his hand turned white… He should have cut off this serpent’s head when he had the opportunity… glancing at the glazed face of Sofia, he knew that he was too late and she now had to live with the consequences of his mistake.
Knowing that he would never give-up Sofia into the hands of this lunatic, Jon replied firmly. “The Emperor’s final command to me was that Princess Aurelius was to be escorted safely to Eden Prime; as nobody has the authority to override that command, I will continue to carry out my duty.”
The smirk on the face of Harkov’s face slipped slightly into a snarl as he once again ordered. “Commander, I now have ultimate authority for this fleet and I am ordering you to turn your squadron around and proceed at best possible speed to the Imperial Star and hand-over Princess Aurelius into my personal protection.”
Jon almost had to laugh at the order, hand over Sofia into the arms of this traitor… he would sooner fall on his own sword. Instead he simply replied, “The Emperor’s final order stands, Princess Aurelius will be escorted to Eden Prime where she will be placed under the protection of the Imperial Senate.” Jon was expecting the Commodore to bluster and threaten as usual but instead he just sneered.
“So noted Commander, I’ll enter it into the fleet log that at this time you refused a direct command from the Fleet Commander to return your squadron to the flagship.” With that the communication was once again cut-off.
Jon simply slammed his fist against the console in frustration. However, his attention was quickly diverted by a quiet sob coming from the seat opposite. With one final curse at the Commodore under his breath, Jon turned to face the grieving Princess. Jon had never been confident around women; especially tear-filled ones. What to say? “Princess,” he uttered softly, desperately trying to think of something to say. When she did not respond, he uttered a soft, “Sofia.”
Surprised at hearing her name uttered, as she had never heard Jon refer to her by her first name before, she looked up at him with tear filled eyes. His gaze was filled with such sympathy and understanding that she launched herself desperately into his embrace. Having even less idea what to say, Jon just made little reassuring sounds and gently rubbed her back in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. Of course as Jon ran his fingertips across warm, silky soft skin he was abruptly reminded about her indecent dress, a gentle sigh of breath against his chest caused such thoughts to flee from his mind as he just held her in his arms until her tremors began to subside.
The tender moment was abruptly interrupted by a bleep from the communication system. Glancing towards the view screen Jon observed Elsie closely observing the scene in the cockpit. For once her expression was not disdainful, but sympathetic for the younger woman. Like many of the Praetorians she had lost loved ones close to her before…
“Commander, we monitored the communication from Harkov and we are waiting for your orders.” Jon experienced a brief rush of affection, realising that they all risked court-martial together for disobeying the direct order. He quickly described his suspicions regarding the Commodore, Elsie’s expression cooling then hardening during the re-telling. By the time Jon had summarised his concerns Elsie’s face was wearing a similar snarl to that of the Commodore.
Turning her attention to Princess Aurelius she swore, “Princess, I swear to you that while a single Praetorian still draws breath, your father’s death will be avenged.”
Sofia, who had been embracing Jon ever more tightly during the retelling simply offered a tear-filled smile and nodded her head in thanks.
Confirming his original intent, Jon insisted, “Lieutenant, our original orders still stand. We are to escort Princess Aurelius to Eden Prime and ensure she is under the protection of the Senate. At that point we will confirm the chain-of-command with the Imperial Fleet.”
“Understood Commander,” Elsie confirmed, “we will continue to hold position until you are ready to resume course.” With a salute the communication channel closed.
Jon was momentarily puzzled, as he did not stick with strict fleet discipline within the squadron. It was only when he noticed Sofia glancing at the view-screen that he understood that the salute had not been directed at him but Princess…no Empress Aurelius now. Realising that their situation had now changed, Jon gently eased himself from her embrace and tilting her head-up so he could look her in the eyes asked in a gentle voice.
“You ok?” Sofia just nodded her head slightly in answer to the question, before she asked what Jon had been dreading.
“What…what is going to happen to me? What do I do now?” While Jon had a fairly good idea, he did not think it wise to worry Sofia yet, anyway they had more immediate problems at hand, like making it to Eden Prime alive.
Instead Jon just replied, “For the moment let’s just concentrate on getting you to Eden Prime safely. We can worry about what happens next after we arrive,” Jon answered truthfully.
“You won’t leave me?” Sofia asked in a small voice.
“Not unless you wish me to,” once again Jon answered truthfully but inside a little piece of his heart died. Upon her arrival Sofia would be crowned Empresses. Jon would continue to serve her, just as he had her father, but never again would he hold her in his arms. Tearing his gaze from her tear filled eyes, he shifted his sight to the flight controls and after ensuring that Sofia was seated comfortably in the co-pilot seat, confirmed that the correct course was laid in and prepared to resume their journey…
…But as his fingers hovered over the controls to resume their journey something stopped him. Ever-since the communication from the Commodore something had been nagging at the back of his sub-conscious. Initially he had just thought it the shock of the Emperors’ death, or the anger at the Commodore’s betrayal, but over time the feeling had just become stronger and stronger until he could no longer ignore it. His fingers continued to hover over the engine restart key…
As the squadron continued to hang, motionless in space, between the stars it finally occurred to Radec what had been bothering him for so long… It was quiet, too quiet… Stabbing the control on his pilot’s seat to broadcast on the Praetorian’s private tactical frequency he demanded.
“Squadron, find me the fleet CAP!” At a confused look from Sofia, Jon explained. “The CAP stands for Combat Air Patrol. It’s a fleet term from Old Earth, when they first introduced fleet aircraft carriers. When in unknown territory they would always have at least a few planes in the air continuously, able to
quickly respond to any threat – the Combat Air Patrol or CAP. This tradition has continued, and when the fleet is deployed there will always be a CAP present…” However, in this instance it seemed not, as the calls from the squadron replied, nobody could detect the CAP. “That does not make sense,” Jon uttered aloud. No fleet would ever be deployed to the outer-rim without a CAP, not if the fleet commander wished to keep his rank, or his head if the Emperor had ever discovered the transgression.
“Well maybe they were needed elsewhere,” Sofia innocently suggested. Jon immediately dismissed the suggestion, after all what could be more important than protecting the fleet. Then slowly, ever so slowly, a terrifying thought began to creep across Jon’s consciousness. What if Sofia was correct, a mission the success of which was paramount, where every single available fighter was to be utilised to maximise the chances of a successful outcome? The Praetorians were fanatically loyal to the Emperor and his family, no person or group was going to succeed in replacing him until both were gone. The entire squadron was assembled here, protecting the last of the Aurelius bloodline with no witnesses present.
But how? Jon thought desperately.
Checking the scanners carefully there were no threats within sensor range, only a few hundred kilometres would take them to the FTL jump and safety. Nothing could stop them in time… but still he could not come to restart the engines, gazing helplessly out of the cockpit windows, with the stars twinkling innocently, Jon desperately searched for an answer.
With a brief flickering of light a star illuminated directly ahead before vanished just as quickly; but there were no stars ahead. The squadron was following a parabolic course away from the nearest gas giant to escape the gravity field and jump into FTL. Ahead was just the asteroid field where dust had accumulated over the millennia, accumulating in places due to gravitational instability into asteroids…certainly no stars. Then all at once everything made perfect sense. How do you ambush a squadron in deep space? You wait for them to come to you. The navigational computer confirmed that at current heading the squadron would pass within ten kilometres of the asteroid belt – in astronomical terms barely a hairs width. Jon knew with absolute certainty that would be where the ambush was waiting. The Praetorian’s were trapped, with a fighter-ambush ahead and a hostile fleet behind. They had run out of options.
