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The Last Praetorian (The Redemption Trilogy)

Page 39

by Mike Smith


  “SILENCE!!!” screamed Harkov across the large bridge. “The next person to say a word I will have shot on the spot!” The room went deathly silent again as everybody turned to face Harkov, his threat momentarily more terrifying than the approaching ship.

  The only sound that could be heard above the slim whisper of the ship’s environmental system was the mumbling from the Captain. “No…No…No…it’s just not possible… Even if Radec obtained such a weapon, nuclear release requires joint authorisation from at least two fleet Admirals, Radec couldn’t have… it’s just not possible...”

  Harkov wheeled on the Captain furiously, the man had gone as white as a sheet and looked like a strong breeze would blow him over. “I hold you personally responsible for this situation Captain! It is due to your constant underestimation of this man that you have led this fleet to the brink of destruction. How many times do I need to remind everybody? This was a man chosen by the Emperor to personally lead his own elite squadron. Marcus and Radec were always as thick as thieves, always plotting against the fleet, against the entire Empire! What secrets do you think Marcus gave to this man before his death? The ship’s rumour mill even suggested that Radec was involved with his own daughter, with Marcus’s approval! I tell you all, if not for my heroic action in the defence of the fleet, the very Empire, we would all be bowing and scraping to Radec by now.”

  Turning back to the Captain, Harkov continued. “I warned you that you would share the same fate as your predecessor if you failed me.” In the blink of an eye Harkov had a pulse pistol in his hand, firmly aimed at the Captain’s chest. “I do not tolerate failure,” Harkov insisted, depressing the firing stud on the pistol. With a high-pitched whine and a scream, the Captain fell to the floor, a smoking ruin, all that remained of his chest.

  Once again turning his attention back to his command staff he threatened. “Everybody resume your positions, it is time for us to stop Radec, once and for all. Unless of course you wish to join your former commanding officer?” Harkov eyed his officers one-by-one as they shrank away, back into their chairs. “I didn’t think so,” Harkov replied with a self-satisfied smile slipping his pulse pistol back in the folds of his uniform. “At least that fool had one thing right,” Harkov stated, casting a glance at the body now lying prostrate on the floor. “The point defence guns on the Imperial Star will take out any missile or torpedo within range. We will take out Radec’s forlorn hope the second he launches it, and then? Well unlike Radec, we have many, many more missiles.”

  “Tactical!” Harkov shouted. “Target the ship and open fire with all guns as soon as it is within range. Let me know when the missiles are reloaded.”

  *****

  Jon muted the radiation alarm that sounded its warning throughout the ship the minute that he had activated the warhead. He had to remind himself that the Eternal Light was not a warship, she was never designed to carry such payloads, hence the alarm. The nuclear warhead that he had procured from Erebus depot should have been loaded in a heavily shielded launch system, which would have absorbed the radiation from the now active weapon. Not actually having the launch system resulted in the warhead being secured firmly within the belly of the shuttle in one of the interior cargo holds. This had the resultant affect that lethal radiation was now leaking into the cargo hold, and eventually throughout the ship. Fortunately the dose of radiation at the moment was very small and would take at least twenty minutes to spread through the ship, before inflicting a lethal dose to Jon. On the bright side Jon had little expectation that he was going to live that long, as the shuttle’s navigation computer was reporting that only a few more minutes remained until the shuttle intercepted the Imperial Star.

  The other effect resulting from having the warhead firmly embedded into the shuttle was that Jon actually had no way to release the warhead. He had known from the moment that he stepped aboard the ‘Light that this would be a one-way trip. Even if Vanguard had the time and specifications to manufacture such a launch system it would not have changed anything. The Imperial Star was too heavily protected with point defence guns and close-in weapons systems to launch the warhead. It would have been destroyed almost immediately, hence the plan that Jon had devised – the ‘Light was the delivery system, the heavily armoured shuttle would hopefully survive long enough to deliver the warhead protected deep in its belly to the target.

  A beeping from the ship’s tactical computer warned Jon that the ‘Light was getting within weapons range of the Imperial Star. As Jon started jinking, making minor flight alterations to the shuttle, he realised that it was mostly a futile gesture. The last time that these two ships faced off, the ‘Light took a hit to one of its engines. That was while flying in the midst of the other Praetorian fighters, along with many dozens of missiles to distract the guns. This time there would be no such protection, a quick blink of light from ahead indicated that the Imperial Star’s guns had commenced firing…

  *****

  “Ten kilometres and still closing…” the Imperial Star’s tactical officer stated aloud while wiping away a bead of sweat that was running down his forehead. “All guns are tracking and weapons free,” he added fairly superfluously as they could feel the vibration of the firing guns through the deck plates. “Time to impact…thirty seconds.”

  “Keep firing!” Harkov insisted. “What is the status of the missile batteries?”

  “Still not finished loading yet, Admiral.”

  “Do I have to assume from that response that some missiles have finished loading then?”

  The tactical officer blinked. “Yes Admiral, some of the missiles have finished loading.”

  “Then by the maker, FIRE THEM!” Harkov bellowed.

  *****

  By now, the area of space surrounding the Eternal Light was a maelstrom of shells, high-energy bolts and exploding shrapnel. While Jon was flying the Eternal Light at the absolute edge of his piloting skills there was just too much incoming fire and the ship’s armour was already taking damage from glancing impacts and shrapnel. It would only be a matter of time until one of the rounds hit the intended target. Over the various chimes, bells and alarms that were now ringing out across the bridge a new alarm joined the fray – missile launch!

  “Fantastic,” Jon stated gritting his teeth furiously; corkscrewing the shuttle around a particularly dense stream of incoming pulse cannon fire.

  Twenty seconds remaining until impact…

  *****

  “Missiles away and tracking…” the Imperial Star’s Tactical shouted across the bridge, for the first time a real sense of fear in his voice. “All guns are now firing on full automatic! Time to impact…Ten seconds.”

  “Keeping firing!” Harkov urged.

  *****

  The dense rail gun round impacting the ship was enough to throw Jon painfully against the seat restraints. Were it not for the restraints Jon would have been thrown violently across the cockpit and badly injured; as it was, Jon’s vision went black for an instant from the impact. A quick glance at the damage control computer was enough to confirm that the ‘Light had been badly damaged. The entire portside engine and a good majority of the wing were…gone, vaporised by the kinetic energy of the impacting projectile. Jon immediately conducted an emergency shutdown of the remaining starboard engine, to enable him to remain in control of the shuttle. Otherwise the ship would have gone into an unrecoverable spin. It was a testament to his outstanding piloting skills that he was able to quickly regain control, if not somewhat sluggishly from the now damaged flight control surfaces. Jon could immediately feel the loss of acceleration, but, without gravity to slow the ship, it continued on at its previous velocity.

  Travelling at approximately 300 meters per second, now barely three kilometres away from the Imperial flagship it was going to make little difference to the end result.

  Less than ten seconds to impact…

  *****

  “Ten seconds until impact!” the Imperial Star’s tactical officer screamed,
any sense of professionalism or duty long since gone, now replaced by absolute terror as the armed nuclear warhead streaked towards the ship, now only a few kilometres away.

  The shuttle seemed to have taken a taken a major hit, had wavered for an instant, and then had resumed a direct collision course with the flagship.

  “Nine, eight, seven…” The bridge officer’s voice, filled with dread, was the only sound that could be heard on the bridge. He slowly started to back away from his terminal, as if he could physically increase the distance between himself and approaching oblivion…

  The tactical officer closed his eyes and started to pray.

  *****

  The heads-up display on the Eternal Light started to flash a collision alert warning as the ship streaked through the depths of space, explosions causing it to shake violently, hull breach alerts sounding throughout the ship as projectiles and pulse cannons had finally stripped the shuttles external armour breaching the hull in numerous places.

  However Jon’s eyes were glued to the rapidly decreasing distance readout to the Imperial Star, as it rapidly approached zero.

  Jon had known that he would not survive this final flight, it felt… right doing it in this ship, one of the last links to his old life. Jon had spent many hours wondering what would go through his mind in the final few seconds; in the end it was simply relief. Relief that against the impossible odds, he and the ‘Light had managed to make it this far, relief that by this action he was going to save the lives of everybody on the station. Relief that by stopping this madman that many thousands, possibly millions of people’s lives would be spared…

  With a final few deft touches of the flight controls, Jon angled the ship towards one of the massive flight decks that comprised the Imperial Star that now filled the front view-port of the shuttle. With all the other alarms drowned out by the collision alert, Jon closed his eyes one final time. Suddenly the sight of Sofia, smiling, appeared in his mind’s eye. Desperately, Jon took a tight hold of the apparition for, one last time; this time to sustain him for an eternity.

  *****

  The Eternal Light slammed into the energy barrier that protected the hanger deck of the Imperial Star. Designed only to keep the hanger deck pressurised and to hold back the emptiness of space, it disintegrated under the impact of a shuttle travelling so fast.

  Amazingly the Eternal Light mostly survived the impact, due to its heavy armour and the superb engineering that went into its construction. The ship somersaulted, over and over again, before finally coming to a rest at the far end of the hanger deck.

  For a single moment in time everything was suddenly still, as if the universe had paused for a breath; the wreckage of the Eternal Light barely recognisable from the weapons fire and subsequent collision.

  However, deep within the belly of the ship a sleeping dragon awoke.

  The Eternal Light vanished in a white light that was a million times brighter than the sun. Within a second the temperature on the flight deck, increased to that only found within the heart of a star. Heat, light, and pressure, combined to create a force of unimaginable power, and it started to grow.

  Within a few heartbeats the flight deck had been consumed, barely a second later the entire deck of the once mighty flagship had been devoured. Meanwhile the mighty explosion continued to grow in strength… and size. Section-by-section, deck-by-deck the huge warship was consumed from within. A nuclear fireball racing down the corridor that Commander Radec once had strode down disappeared. The Emperor’s quarters; where he had once held court over the entire Empire, vanished. The senior officers’ lounge, where Jon had once wielded his sword over a young man’s head, exploded, turned to ash in a nuclear fireball.

  In a few seconds the explosion had grown to such a size as to encompass the massive flagship. The heavy external armour of the ship fought a losing battle to contain the massive forces unleashed within. But nothing could contain these forces and like a balloon, over inflated – it burst! Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the armour, growing and growing until the entire hull disappeared within the blinding light. For a while it seemed as if these great forces would grow and grow until everything was consumed. However, finally the light started to dim, to shrink, to collapse within itself. Finally the light vanished completely, to leave… nothing.

  All activity within the vicinity stopped, everybody stunned by the almighty forces unleashed, as if the creator had picked up the Imperial Star and crushed it as if it were a toy.

  The remaining Imperial forces offered their unconditional surrender minutes later.

  Epilogue

  Present Day

  Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

  It was barely 18 hours later, when the Confederation 12th fleet arrived in the Zeta Aquilae system, commanded by Fleet Admiral Sterling. On board, the Imperial Princess Sofia Aurelius, President of the Confederation Senate, who, on arrival, immediately requested transport across to the station.

  “I don’t recommend it Madame President,” Admiral Sterling said. “You are safer aboard the Protector. We still have not accounted for all the Imperial ships, and there could still be unexploded ordinance out there. Frankly it’s a real mess here at the moment and we’re still trying to sort through it.”

  “I appreciate your concern Admiral,” Sofia replied. “However it was not a request; inform me when transport is ready.”

  With that she spun around, heading for the exit from the bridge, and what Sterling could only assume, on her way to the flight deck. Sterling sighed in frustration. He had known her father; the Emperor and he had been equally as stubborn, always refusing to heed advice from his senior officers. He wondered if it was something that ran in the family. He hurriedly ordered a transport shuttle to be made available to the Princess. Her father had a terrible temper and Sterling had no desire to find out if his daughter also shared the same trait.

  *****

  On arriving at Terra Nova, Sofia was confronted with the sight of what seemed like the entire crew assembled on the flight deck, in full uniform, in parade formation. The scene facing her so stunned her that for a moment she was rooted to the spot. How many times had she disembarked from a ship at the side of her father, to face such a scene? However, it had been many, many years since the fall of the Empire that she had last received such a reception. Sofia was curious to understand why the formal reception. Casting her gaze around she was unable to locate Jon, however she recognised Paul and a number of the senior officers, as she walked down the ramp of the transport and angled in their direction.

  “Attention! Officer on deck!” a voice called out from the ranks and the entire crew snapped to attention as she strode past. It was obvious that military discipline had not suffered in the intervening years, as Sofia could not remember a better-presented, better-turned out crew. Approaching Paul and the senior officers, Sofia was desperate to inquire where Jon was as they had a lot to discuss.

  Paul could not fail to be amazed by Sofia’s arrival. Realising that he had not seen her in person in almost five years, Paul was amazed at the transformation. When he had last seen her, she had been a young, beautiful woman who had just had her heart broken. The woman stepping off the transport seemed to bear only a passing resemblance, while Paul considered her still beautiful; her face had matured into that of a confident woman, confident in herself and comfortable with the mantle of leadership. Her gaze took in the entire scene in a single glance, her expression thoughtful until she caught sight of him and started in his direction.

  Paul was taken aback by how similar the scene was to the Emperor’s arrival, the white flowing robes of the office of the President identical to those worn by her father, except his were black. Paul wondered if Sofia was aware how similar she was to her father, the same aura of quiet confidence, and authority. In a way Paul wished that it was her father that he was breaking this news to. Paul had dealt with the Emperor enough times to recognise his anger and knew how to deal with it. Paul was certain that Marc
us would not have taken the loss of Jon well; he could almost imagine that blast of his furious white-hot anger. Unfortunately Paul well knew that Sofia’s feelings for Jon went far beyond her now dead father’s, and the reaction was likely to be far, far worse.

  Glancing at his assembled crew Paul felt the occasion fitting. His senior staff had approached him with the idea soon after they found out about Sofia’s arrival. It was their way to pay their final respects to Jon… and Sofia. After all it was Gunny that pointed out that technically she was still their commanding officer, as Marcus’s only child. A part of Paul wished that Sofia had found somebody else over the intervening years; perhaps it would make the news that he had to break to her somewhat easier. Somebody for her to share the pain with…

  Sighing to himself, Paul snapped to attention as Sofia stood in front of him, before executing a flawless salute. “Madame President,” he greeted her.

  Sofia stared quizzically at Paul for a moment before returning the salute. On anybody else the gesture would have appeared… insulting; from Sofia it seemed, respectful. “Captain Harrington, it’s good to see you.” Sofia was unsure if their earlier communication was public knowledge, so for the moment decided not to mention it. “Where is Jon?”

  The sharp intake of breath from the group of officers, suggested that the question was not unexpected and the answer was not going to be liked.

  “I’m so sorry Sofia…” Paul tried to put his feelings into words, failing miserably. “Jon was killed yesterday in the battle with Harkov’s fleet.” He glanced away, not able to cope with the expression of utter despair that appeared on Sofia’s face. Knowing that it would not ease her pain, but feeling that it needed to be said, he added. “He sacrificed his life for us. If he hadn’t stopped Harkov and his fleet many, many more lives would have been lost. I doubt that any of us would be standing here today.” Paul’s shoulders slumped, the misery threatening to overwhelm him. Realising that his pain was barely a fraction of what Sofia must be feeling, he looked up at Sofia who had gone a deathly pale. For a moment Paul was worried that she was going to faint, instead her head fell onto her chest, tears running down her face.

 

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