by Mike Smith
“Me!” Miranda exclaimed, not sure what to feel, shock, surprise, horror, or excitement.
“Indeed,” Paul exclaimed clearly. “You have already rotated through all of the departments, and worked closely with all the senior staff. They have come to respect you and listen to your opinions carefully. I have no reason to expect things to change when the announcement becomes official.”
“And you and Jon discussed this and agreed before any of this happened, and you have no problem with this?”
“It’s all official, you can check the orders with the computer,” Paul reassured her motioning towards the terminal in the office. Fingers crossed behind his back that she would take his word for it and not check, as the computer would confirm no such thing. “As for me, I am an administrator, I would be more than happy to pass on the burden of leadership to you, it’s unwanted I assure you.”
Leaning back in the chair, deep in thought for a moment, not agreeing or disagreeing to the proposal. Finally Miranda asked, “So just who were you?”
“Excuse me?”
“We’ll everybody on this station seems to have had some role in the Imperial Navy.” As if ticking off names on a list she continued. “Jon was Commander of the Praetorians, bodyguard to the Emperor and his family. Gunny was a Special Forces Gunnery Sergeant in the Marines. David was head of Security on the battleship Illustrious. Jason was, well who knows what the hell Jason’s job title was but he has ‘Navy Intelligence’ written all over him. The doctor was chief flight surgeon on the Imperial Star… So what were you?”
Paul was trying to suppress a smile that she had managed to so quickly delve into each of their pasts. “Logistics - somebody had to keep the Empire afloat in a sea of paperwork,” Paul insisted straight-faced.
Miranda just gave him a suspicious frown. “And your rank?”
“Captain,” Paul replied truthfully.
“You outrank Jon?” she asked in surprise, somehow assuming that Jon was the most senior officer.
“Only on a good day - Jon was the Commander of the Praetorian Guard,” Paul explained, trying to think how best to explain. “They sort of sit outside the normal chain of command, as they reported only to the Emperor. Being Commander of the Praetorians was like having a royal flush in poker, it’s sort of an unbeatable hand, nobody outranked the Commander of the Praetorian’s, well, except for the Emperor, of course.”
Miranda nodded, guessing it sort of made sense. “And this is only while Jon is recovering, after that he will take back command?”
“Absolutely.”
“OK then, as long as this is what Jon wanted… and that it’s only temporary.”
“Excellent, why don’t we meet up in my office in a few hours for a handover,” Paul replied, surprised that he had managed to pull off the entire charade. He would have to remember to update the computer and backdate the orders. Rubbing his hands in delight, Paul could not wait to see the expression on Jon’s face when he found out.
“What’s wrong with Jon’s office?” Miranda asked suspiciously.
“It’s currently got zero air-pressure and the temperature is only a few degree’s above absolute zero,” Paul replied standing up.
“But I thought Jon was in his office at the time?”
“Sure was.”
“Then how come he is…?”
“Still alive?” Paul finished the sentence for her. “You should listen to the crew more, now that you are in charge. Didn’t you know that Jon could survive the vacuum of space?”
“Yeah, along with being invulnerable, possess a magic sword that can cut steel, being the best damn pilot in the galaxy, clairvoyant and telepathic.”
“Really? Jon is telepathic? I never knew.”
“You should listen to the crew more,” Miranda replied with a sigh.
Paul laughed, having missed the verbal back and forth with Jon, hoping that his dear friend made it through the surgery. Suddenly having an inspirational thought, he added in a whisper. “Anyway you missed off the best one, according to the crew, or at least the female half… he is meant to be the best lover in the galaxy.”
I will not blush, I will not blush, Miranda thought, her mind flashing back to Jon’s warm kiss earlier. She blushed. Damn.
Paul noticed the young woman blushing and his laughter followed him out of the office.
*****
It was late at night, again, and this time it was Miranda that was exhausted, having had little sleep the night before and having spent many hours with Paul going through all the latest status reports for the company. No wonder Jon was always locked away in his office, Miranda thought, the paperwork was enough to kill him!
Paul noticed Miranda’s yawn, and taking pity on her - she had had a rough past twenty-four hours - suggested they finish up for the night. The only good news during the past day was that Jon had come through the surgery fine, and was currently in an induced coma to let his body recover from the trauma. Doctor Richardson had given a good prognosis, and with rest he was expected to make a full recovery. The station was just anxiously awaiting news that their Commander was awake.
As Paul was about to leave, Miranda interrupted with a question that had been on her mind ever since she had seen Jon step through that door. “Before you go, I want to know why Jon has a death-wish.” The sudden intake of breath from the older man indicated that she had touched a delicate topic.
“Jon is not suicidal,” Paul replied angrily, stopping at the threshold of the door, determined to defend his friend from such accusations.
“I never said that he was,” Miranda replied calmly. “But I question if Jon honestly cares if he lives or dies. I saw his expression the moment before he stepped through the door straight into the middle of a group of Syndicate enforcers. I’ve never seen such a terrifying expression on a person before. It was completely detached. No worry, no fear, anger or hatred, completely serene. I don’t care about this way-of-the-warrior crap, but I’m not going to follow Jon into oblivion, simply so he can escape from his existence.
Sighing deeply, Paul resignedly walked back, before falling heavily into the spare seat. “Jon has no plans to lead anyone into oblivion. He cares for his people, the mantle of leadership falls more heavily on some people than others, and for Jon it is eating him alive. Every time we lose somebody Jon takes it as a personal failure on his behalf. I think part of the reason he puts himself in these dangerous situations is to avoid himself having to risk another.”
“But there is more to it than that, isn’t there?” Miranda prompted perceptively.
“Have you ever had a goal in life - a true purpose?”
“You mean something to get me out of bed in the morning?” Miranda responded with a grin.
Paul frowned, trying to find a way to convey his meaning to the younger woman. “Jon once had a purpose in his life. He was the Commander of the Praetorian Guard, sworn to defend the Empire, the Emperor and his family, that was his existence, that was his purpose for being,”
Paul tried desperately to convey the intensity of Jon’s feelings. Remembering him when they first met, taken aback by the intensity and fervour in the younger man, a man who honestly believed in the Empire, it’s ideals and was totally devoted to its leader – Marcus Aurelius. It was a passion that bordered on fanaticism, but how to convey that to this young woman to whom the Emperor was something she read about in novels and the Empire was something distant that had no impact on her life.
“And this purpose came to an end?” Miranda once again perceptively pointed out.
“Not an end, that is too simple a term to convey the tragedy that followed,” Paul replied. “In the space of a few days Jon’s whole world came tumbling down around him. Marcus Aurelius, assassinated. The Praetorian Guards, gone. The Empire, collapsing from within; along with Jon’s entire existence.”
“And what of the Imperial Princess, Sofia Aurelius, that I keep hearing about from the crew, in whispers?”
“Not even I know th
e full story,” Paul confessed. “I know that they must have become very close during their escape. Sofia would not leave him, when he was badly wounded upon making it to Eden Prime. She would not leave his bedside for days…”
“She was in love with him?” Miranda asked, surprised. She, like almost everybody, had watched the news, reading about their mad dash for escape across the galaxy.
“I think so. Yes,” Paul replied firmly, remembering the young lovers on Eden Prime, the expression in her eyes when she gazed at Jon. The same expression he saw every night, when returning to his quarters, embracing Carol, his wife.
“And Jon, did he love her?” Miranda asked hesitantly.
“I…I don’t know,” Paul replied truthfully. “I thought for a time he did, they were so happy together, but I don’t know…something happened.”
“Happened?” Miranda inquired confused.
Paul took a deep breath, averting his eyes, having never told anybody else before, not even his family, but maybe Miranda had the right to know, the right to have all the facts, so she could make her own decision. “Jon betrayed Sofia,” he explained lowering his gaze to the table top.
Miranda just blinked. Then laughed.
“Excuse me, we are talking about the same person here? Commander Jonathan ‘my word is my honour’ Radec? He betrayed her? And you saw this with your own eyes?”
Paul had to smile at Miranda’s description of Jon, as it sounded just the sort of phrase he would use. “Princess Aurelius, Sofia, she came to me that night, distraught, telling me what she had seen, pleading with me to tell her that it was not true. Begging me to tell her what was wrong with her, why Jon would want somebody else…” That was not all that transpired between the two of them that night, but that was nobody else’s business, not Miranda’s, and especially not Jon’s.
“And what did you tell her?”
“What could I tell her? I knew nothing of it, but Jon had been very distant for many days before. I knew that he had something on his mind, but he would never divulge it to me.”
“So what did you do?”
“I confronted Jon about it.”
“And what did he say?”
“He didn’t deny it,” Paul replied angrily. He remembered the scene as if it was yesterday, furious with the younger man, but also guilty at his own actions. Wanting nothing more than to kick the crap out of Jon, but the look of complete despair in the other mans face, stopping him. No physical hurt that he could inflict on Jon would come anywhere close to the anguish that he was going through. So instead, with the shame of his own actions, he walked out, never once looking back.
“So Jon doesn’t have anybody?” Miranda asked astonished, looking back at her own time on the station, she could not remember ever seeing Jon with anybody. He was usually in his office, or attending his shift in the C&C. That was not to say that he was cold or aloof. Miranda could remember a dozen incidents off the top of her head, when she saw Jon interacting with the crew, from congratulating Lieutenant Patterson on his quick thinking in averting a near collision, or taking Lieutenant Castle’s daughter out in the Eternal Light as a birthday gift. The crew loved him, but they also worried about him. Miranda could see that it was not just Paul who shared these concerns.
“He still has some family on Altair,” Paul replied, misunderstanding the question. “I checked once with communications and he messages them a few times a year, on family occasions and stuff. He joins Carol and me sometimes in the evening, he is great with the kids…” Paul trailed off, embarrassed at realising how personal this conversation had become.
“Anyway, Jon is not a danger to you, or me, or anybody else on this station,” Paul insisted firmly. “Now it is getting late, so if you will excuse me…”
Watching Paul depart Miranda realised that he had never answered the original question. While Paul was emphatic that Jon was not a risk to anybody else on the station, he purposefully did not mention the fact that Jon was not a danger to himself…
Chapter Twelve
Present Day
Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System
Staring at his face in the mirror, Jon was astonished to see a bruise starting to form on his forehead. Rubbing it painfully Jon looked around, astonished to see his small quarters on the Imperial Star.
“How did I get here?” he asked looking around. The last he could remember was being on the station, with alarms sounding… A chime from the door interrupted his thoughts.
“Come!” he called out. As the door opened a figure glided into the room. The visitor was shorter than Jon and wearing a white cloak that masked his or her features. With a strange sense of Déjà vu, Jon watched as Sofia pushed the hood away from her face.
Jon could only gape, as Sofia, not having aged a day glided towards him. “What are you doing here? I thought that you were on Eden Prime?”
“Do you always greet your guests shirtless?” Sofia replied with a laugh, running her hand across his bare chest. As she leaned forward to kiss him she whispered. “I fully approve.”
The next moment they were twirling, intertwined on the open-air patio, alone, with the band inside playing a slow song, the stars shining brightly down on the young couple.
“Getting the hang of things, Jon?” she asked as she executed a stunning twirl.
“Where are we?” he replied confused. “Is this a dream?”
She laughed with genuine delight. “You don’t miss a thing,” she responded, reeling and darting around Jon with the grace of a summer breeze, chuckling good-naturedly at his obvious and total confusion.
Reaching out, he snaked an arm out to halt her, pulling her to him until her body was flush against his. Spinning Sofia in a gradually tighter circle, pulling her closer with every turn, until the two of them stood utterly still at the center of the dance floor.
And then, as if a parched man, having been offered a drink after going for days without, his lips descended upon hers in a desperate, demanding kiss. This time there was nobody to interrupt them, and the kiss seemed to go on and on, Jon becoming lost in the feel of her. Finally he pulled his head back from hers and opened his eyes, terrified to think that she might no longer be there, only to find her gazing sadly back at him. She dropped her hands to his shoulders, retreated one step, and another before moving her body in time to the music once again.
“Please don’t leave me,” Jon cried desperately. “I have been so alone without you,” admitting it to himself at the same time as saying the words aloud.
Twirling back, closer, Sofia touched her hand delicately to his chest, in the same fashion that she did on the Imperial Star, she explained in a soft voice. “You have never been alone, Jon. I have always been with you, in here,” she said laying her hand over his heart.
With that she once again twirled away, fading from sight, as the music softened, leaving Jon standing alone on the open-air patio.
“I’m sorry,” Jon said aloud. “I never wanted to hurt you, I love you…” admitting it to himself, for the first time ever.
*****
“Son of a bitch, that hurts!” Jon panted out aloud, his ashen face, covered in a thick sheen of sweat. He had regained consciousness a few days before, but it was going to take his body much longer before it recovered. His breathing was still laboured, the scar tissue causing his lungs to expand and contract painfully. Sleeping was the worst, as he frequently awoke during the night, breathless and in pain.
Better the pain from the lungs than the pain from the broken heart, Jon thought. He was still deeply shaken by the dream while he had been unconscious in Medical. What was worst is that Jon could rarely remember his dreams, but this one seemed imprinted on his consciousness, every look, and every touch, crystal clear. Jon lost count of the times that he found himself opening a channel to Sofia, only to angrily snatch his hand away. Even if he managed to talk to her, what was he going to say? It had been almost five years!
Hi, how are you? I know we haven’t spoken for years and I am
sorry I hurt you. How about picking up where we left off?
It sounded pathetic, even to him! For all he knew she had long since moved on, found somebody else, somebody to share her life, her bed… The thoughts made Jon’s heart freeze and his blood run cold.
Looking at the chronometer in his bedroom - he had finally been kicked out of Medical after his complaining reached unbearable levels, even for his medical staff - Jon noticed that it was just after five in the morning.
Rise and shine, he thought sourly to himself.
It was barely an hour later when Jon shuffled painfully into his office, unannounced. “What the hell are you doing here so early?” Jon demanded foul tempered, partly from the pain and lack of sleep and partly because he was hoping to beat the current occupant to his chair, failing miserably.
“Well good morning to you, feel free to just stroll in,” Miranda replied waspishly.
“It’s my office.”
“Not until the Doctor clears you back for duty, and for god sake sit down before you collapse!”
Jon distinctly disliked following others’ orders, although he had no problem issuing them, but deciding to overlook the point, this once, he slid gratefully into his chair. “What’s the latest?” Jon asked trying to peer over the rim of the data pad that Miranda was reading.
Miranda only angled the pad further away from his eyesight. “None of your concern,” she replied abruptly. On her first day she had discovered that the department heads were producing daily reports, in hard copy! A young ensign then collated these before they were delivered to the Commanding Officer for review. Miranda could not believe it! She had immediately ordered that all department heads would file daily status reports electronically henceforth.
Jon meanwhile was bored and looking around his office for something to amuse himself. Noticing the desk had been moved to the other side of the office, away from the energy field encasing the window, he commented. “So I see you had the energy grid repaired, I’m surprised you did not have the window altered to remove the need.”
