The Last Praetorian (The Redemption Trilogy)

by Mike Smith

  “It’s you,” Jon insisted. “We compared the DNA linked to your record with the scan that the Doctor took when he revived you. It’s a perfect match.” Miranda just stared at the picture with tears running down her cheek.

  “But why?” she finally asked. “Why spare me when nobody else survived?”

  “We will probably never know,” Jon replied sadly. “Perhaps you were fortunate to have survived the attack when the rest of the crew did not. Traditionally, pirate attacks leave no survivors, they do not want to risk anybody identifying them later. A small part of me hopes that when they boarded the ship and found you alive, some grain of their humanity remained, which let them spare you and rescue you from the freighter.” Realising that Miranda probably felt very alone at the moment, having the only life that she knew suddenly pulled out from under her, Jon pulled her into an embrace. Miranda resisted for a moment before resting her head gently against his chest. Jon decided that he would just ignore his shirt getting damp from the tears still running down her face.

  Jon was about to reassure her that things would get better, when the door to the observation lounge suddenly slid open and a giggling couple that were also entwined stumbled in. Quickly noticing the couple next to the observation window there was a moment of shocked silence, followed by a hasty apology before they ducked out the room and the door slid shut once again. Letting his chin rest on Miranda’s head for a brief moment with his arms still wrapped around her. Jon closed his eyes and cursed softly to himself at their inopportune timing. Living in such a small tightly knit environment, the crew did nothing better than gossip. Jon was certain that the entire station would think that they were a couple by the start of the next shift. Realising that Miranda had enough to deal with at the moment without this additional concern Jon decided to wisely keep quiet.

  Perhaps he could issue a station wide bulletin at the start of next shift informing the crew that they were not romantically involved…

  Chapter Seven

  Present Day

  Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

  A couple of days later the stations senior staff gathered in one of the large briefing rooms to discuss a recent breakthrough by Jason and his team in decoding the information contained on the data chip obtained by Jon on Transcendence. Jon meanwhile had been in a foul mood ever since the encounter with Miranda in the observation lounge. As Jon had expected, the next morning the entire crew was aware of the blossoming romance between the station commander and their newest addition to the crew. Jon had decided that he was going to shoot the next person to congratulate him! It did not help his mood that ever since their talk in the observation lounge, Miranda had obviously been avoiding him, troubled by the revelations regarding her past. He wanted to get this meeting concluded, not the least due to the late addition of Miranda to the meeting for her ‘independent insight’, as Paul referred to it.

  As head of the team tasked with decoding the information on the chip, Jason kicked off the briefing. “As I am sure you are all aware over the past few years there have been a number of uprisings on various colonies throughout the Confederation. While this is not unusual - there will always be grievances and, or, local issues that incite the populace - this general level of discontent is notable in its increase.” With a tap on the display controls to the holoprojector a chart appeared, hovering just above the conference room table, showing a steady but noticeable increase in colonies in open revolt during the past 18 months.

  “Again,” Jason continued, “there is nothing alarming regarding this. Historical precedents show that these uprisings tend to be cyclic, with an increased period of discontent, followed by a similar period of contentment when these uprisings die down, usually after the local issues have been addressed.” Again Jason clicked on the controls and the chart was replaced with another but on a much larger timescale, again you could see the peaks where the number of colonies in revolt peaked, but also troughs as these fizzled out and died. “However, the data recently obtained by the Commander sheds a worrying new light on the recent uprisings, as these seem to have been well planned and organised.”

  Leaning forward in interest, his recent foul mood forgotten Jon inquired, “But surely this is normal? While I appreciate that occasional uprisings are fairly spontaneous, caused by some particular flash point, surely other rebellions are planned. General discontent causes a small group of individuals to band together and incite the general mass; again history seems to support this scenario.”

  Jason nodded his head in agreement at the Commanders’ insight, but added. “The difference this time is that the data chip you obtained indicates that the planning and organisation for multiple uprisings comes from a single person, or more likely, organisation located outside the systems in revolt.”

  The room went deathly silent following this startling announcement.

  Once again leaning forward, Jon insisted. “You are referring to a conspiracy? A conspiracy by one or more people to insight revolt and uprising through the Confederation?”

  Jason nodded his head in agreement at Jon’s conclusion before continuing. “Currently there are 18 systems in open revolt and are actively pushing to secede from the Confederation. There are a further 5 systems that are actively leaning in this direction. Of the approximate 166 systems that currently make up the Confederation my intelligence team predicate that it would only take a further dozen or so systems to declare that they want to break away from the Confederation to result in outright civil war. As you know the Confederation Charter stipulates that each individual system contribute to the Confederation Navy. The outcome of almost 20 per cent of the Confederation trying to break away would result in a complete disintegration of the Navy, resulting in a general civil war, especially if the remaining systems refuse to allow the breakaway colonies to secede and utilise the Navy to retain these systems.” The room was speechless after the dire predictions laid forth by Jason.

  “Why does the Confederation not recognise this threat? Why is it not being actively debated and discussed by the Senate?” Paul inquired curiously.

  “I can only assume that they do not have the same intel that we do,” Jason responded. “The current situation is no worse than it has been in the past.” He motioned towards the chart that displayed the historical data for the past 20 years. “We have the advantage from the data that we know that these uprisings have been incited, and we know that additional uprisings are being actively planned. Additionally, from reading the after action report from the Commander, it was obviously the intention of this informant that we pass this information onto the Confederation.”

  Leaning back in his chair for a moment Jon added thoughtfully, “Thinking back about the encounter it was that aspect that most stood out for me. The informant ‘Snow’ was insistent that I pass on this information. However, I got the impression that he had a particular person in mind and not just the Confederation as a whole. He seemed to suggest that this person would pay particular attention to this information if it came from me directly, unlike if he approached the Senate or this person directly.”

  Nodding his head in agreement Jason responded. “Intelligence noted the same thing from your report and we think we know whom this person was referring to. Has anybody been following recent developments in the Confederation Senate?” Jason inquired to the room as a whole.

  With a general shaking of heads and Paul commenting, “I prefer the sports channel. The political broadcasts put me to sleep.”

  Jason rolled his eyes and updated the senior staff on recent events. “Following political infighting and corruption charges levelled at the previous Senate President the Senate voted in a new President last month… Sofia Aurelius,” Jason announced, purposefully averting his eyes from Jon.

  Jon, who had been leaning back in his chair, with his feet propped up on the table, fell to the floor in complete shock! Desperately grabbing an arm of his chair to drag himself off the floor Jon asked in a strangled voice, “Sofia…my, our S
ofia is now President?”

  “The President…of the Confederation Senate,” Jason replied succinctly, just in case there had been some misunderstanding with regards to which presidency she had recently been elevated to. There was a general clearing of throats and averted gazes as Jon hauled himself back into his seat and slumped in this chair.

  “I cannot believe it,” Jon stated in disbelief. “She mentioned that she was thinking of going into politics the last time that I saw her…” he said, thinking aloud.

  “Would that have been the time that she was clinging to you like a barnacle in tears?” Paul commented with a wide smirk. “Or the other time when she was throwing things at you and threatening bodily harm if you ever set foot within her sight again?” Paul was trying to suppress a laugh.

  “I do not understand,” Miranda interjected obviously confused. “Who is this Sofia Aurelius?”

  Taking pity on Jon who was still trying to get over the shock, Paul replied. “Sofia Aurelius was, is, the only daughter of the last Imperial Emperor - Marcus Aurelius,” Paul explained. “She and Jon had a ‘thing’ going on a while back,” Paul smirked.

  “Old Flame,” Doctor Richardson added also grinning.

  “Ex-Flame,” Jon interjected giving the occupants of the room an evil stare. “We had some history a while back, but we are both long over that.” Jon tried to dismiss the matter as unimportant.

  “Sure was some history,” Paul quipped. “I remember walking into your quarters that morning when we could not find her, and found you in bed with…”

  “Thanks Paul,” Jon interrupted before he could continue, starting to turn an interesting shade of red and noticing the poorly suppressed laughs coming from many of the occupants of the room. It seemed to be his week to be the centre of attention for the station regarding his love life, or lack thereof!

  “Anyway, getting back to the topic at hand,” Jon insisted trying to deflect the attention away from Sofia and himself. “Jason, did your team manage to retrieve anything else from the data chip?”

  “Only some ship registers, cargo manifests, intercepted communication fragments, nothing concrete, certainly nothing that we can use. However we did come across an interesting correlation. With the on-going threat to our ships and crew we have been paying a lot more attention to Syndicate activity in this system, in particular their ships, routes, cargos etc. The computer found an extremely strong correlation between the Syndicate activity we have been tracking and the data contained on the chip.”

  “Interesting,” Jon thought aloud. “How strong is the data correlation that you have found?”

  “Approximately 88% so far,” Jason said. “We are still trying to track down the registration of the other ships detailed in the data chip, but so far almost everyone is either a Syndicate ship, or one that is registered to one of their innumerable shell companies.”

  Jon raised an eyebrow at such a high correlation in the data and inquired. “What is the possibility this is just a coincidence?”

  Jason tapped a couple of controls: the holoscreen was replaced with a shipping manifest for the “Eagle Star” an interstellar freighter. “This freighter is owned by Carnival Logistics, which, through various financial transactions and shell companies, we have confirmed is actually 100% owned and run by the Syndicate. This freighter was at the Lalande system approximately four weeks before the revolt started in that system. The cargo manifest lists it as carrying 120,000 kilograms of food-stuffs.”

  “That’s a pile of crap,” Paul interjected. “I know the Lalande system, their primary export is agricultural foodstuff, the entire system is one big farm. It’s the biggest exporter of food in the entire sector.”

  “Correct,” Jason agreed. “This is just one example out of dozens of others, coincidence? Perhaps, but it’s strange to have such a high data correlation of what we know for a fact are smugglers and systems that are soon after in open revolt, often with well-armed insurgents, with excellent intelligence who quickly overthrow local planetary authorities. The question is what are we going to do with this intelligence?” Jason asked the room.

  Jon reviewed the shipping manifest still projected in the air and thought about the other intelligence that had been highlighted. “It’s not enough,” he concluded. “What we have so far is all conjecture, speculation and a lot of coincidences. We need hard facts and more importantly we need proof. I am not going to approach the Confederation Council… or Sofia,” Jon winced at the thought of how that conversation would pan out, “without some hard facts people.” Jon did not think it would be helpful to add that he had risked his life and cost the lives of a large number of close friends to rescue Sofia the last time. He had no intention of telling her anything that was going to put her life at risk – the Confederation be-damned.

  “Suggestions? Proposals?” Jon addressed the question at his senior staff.

  After a moment of silence Gunny offered. “I have discussed an idea with David, that he fully supports,” he said referring to their head of security. “However, as the original idea came from Miranda I think she should be the one to present it.” Patrick gestured to her to continue.

  Surprised, as it was obvious that she was not expecting to be asked to contribute to the meeting, Miranda took a deep breath and explained. “If we need hard facts and information then we need to get our hands on a Syndicate computer core, high level personnel, or both. As we can safely assume that they will not venture this information I propose that we go ahead and take it.” The room became very still following this announcement.

  Leaning forward and staring at Miranda intensely, Jon commented. “You are suggesting that we raid one of the Syndicate bases?” Jon scoffed. “Based on our intelligence,” Jon cast his gaze towards Jason before continuing, “such a raid would be a disaster as all the Syndicate outposts are too heavily defended with space-based energy, projectile and missile emplacements. Any assault team would get cut to pieces before we could get within ten kilometres of any of their stations.”

  “Most of their base of operations in this system are significant in size and therefore heavily protected,” Miranda conceded. “However I often shuttled high ranking members of the organisation to a smaller outpost. They used this for more confidential high-level briefings and discussions. By its very nature this is smaller, highly concealed and lightly defended. Ideally, I could sneak a small shuttle onto the station with my access codes, assuming they have not been changed. Thereafter we should be able to neutralise any defences and send a boarding team to capture their computer core.”

  “I assume that this is where you two come in,” Jon interjected dryly pointing his finger at Gunny and David.

  “A number of my Marines have been training with Security for the past few weeks,” Patrick replied confidently. “While it will take a little longer to make Marines out of them, we can assemble an assault team consisting of a dozen Special Forces and Marines backed up by David and his security team. We can punch through whatever defences that they have, grab the computer core and be out of there in under ten minutes, long before any reinforcements could arrive.”

  “And you agreed to this crazy scheme?” Jon directed this question to his head of security.

  “The plan is tactically sound, sir,” David responded stiffly. “We have a fairly good idea of the internal layout of the station from Miranda. We will have the element of surprise on our side. Patrick and his team will assault the compute core while my team and I will secure the dock and cover the exit.”

  Jon just shook his head in disbelief at the sheer audacity of the plan that his senior staff was proposing. Just to waltz onto a Syndicate station, no matter how lightly defended, poke around until they had located the computer core, steal it right under the noses of the Syndicate and waltz back out. Sighing, as there seemed to be little better idea, Jon concluded the meeting. “I want to see a full tactical plan on my desk in 48 hours... and it had better be damn good! Dismissed!”

  As his senior c
ommand staff filed out of the conference room, Jon’s thoughts turned back to Sofia. It had been at least 32 hours since he had last thought about her, Jon idly wondered if he was going to spend the rest of his life thinking about her.

  Lashing out in frustration, Jon threw the data pad that had been resting on the table in front of him, taking some satisfaction in the sharp crack as it shattered against the wall. He stalked across the room to stare out of the window at the stars, the only way he seemed to find any peace and solitude these days.

  Jon had spent years criss-crossing the Confederation, hunting down Harkov after ensuring Sofia’s safe arrival on Eden Prime. In those years he had seen sights and sounds that most citizens could only dream of, but with his desperate quest for vengeance always driving him onwards. As each rumour, each possible sighting was meticulously followed up– always with no success - another piece of Jon’s soul seemed to shrivel and die.

  In his quest for vengeance he had discarded everyone and everything that he held dear to him. Finally Jon came to the very edge of explored space, gazing upon the billions and billions of unexplored stars ahead, he finally surrendered to his despair. With loneliness as his only companion he turned his ship around. All the things he had seen, experienced…

  But what’s the point of life, if you have nobody to share it with! Jon thought angrily.

  On his return Jon had spent restless nights tossing and turning, his dreams plagued by Sofia, her smile, her scent and her gentle touch. Now he spent his days aimlessly wandering the station, alone, in this ivory tower, his own self imposed exile. Hiding from the mistakes that he had made in the past.

  Jon had failed so many people in his life, first his younger sister, then when he had joined the Navy his colleagues, finally concluding with the Emperor, his fellow Praetorians and eventually even Sofia. Everything that he touched, he destroyed. Jon felt in his heart that this meaningless existence was the cost that he had to bear for a lifetime of mistakes.