The Last Praetorian (16 page)

With the Doctors reference to Jon’s continual close brush
with death a lot of the good humour left Paul’s expression and he turned
thoughtful.  “You have known Jon longer than anybody… it seems sometimes that
he carries the fate of the world on his shoulders.”

“I assume you are referring to our dear leader’s single
handed mission to save the Galaxy from… itself?” the Doctor inquired in a
cynical tone.

“It’s more than that,” Paul tried to explain. “He is an
outstanding leader, probably the best pilot I have ever seen and I think the
crew would follow him into the mouth of hell and back without question, but the
responsibility of command seems to sit on his shoulders like the weight of the
world.  Every ship we lose to these pirates, every crewmember that does not
come back, he takes as a personal loss, that he failed to do a good enough
job…  To be honest Doc, I was rather hoping that our latest additional to the
station might help distract him...”

“I see,” the Doctor replied.  “Well I must to confess to
having quite a shock myself upon opening that pod.  It reminded me of that Old
Earth story that I used to read to my daughter, ‘Sleeping Beauty’, unconscious
there in the pod.  She looked like she was waiting for a prince to wake her
up.  Perhaps I should have waited for Jon to revive her,” the Doctor said with
a laugh.

“Seriously Doc, how is she?”  Paul asked in a more serious
tone.  The Doctor turned back to the data pad and brought up the results of her
previous scan.

“Generally she is in pretty good health.  She had a number
of stress cracks, probably caused by the huge acceleration of the ejection, not
unusual in cases like this.  I have repaired this damage and her bone density
should now be as good as new.  In addition she had a few other factures, which
had not healed well, which I also repaired.  Along with being a little
malnourished.  I have given her an injection of trace vitamins and minerals. 
She could do with a few good meals.” Checking to ensure that the young woman
was still getting changed he added with a grin.  “Perhaps the Commander could
assist with that… following that she should be back to perfect health.  It
would seem that she has not had an easy life,” the Doctor frowned.  “A number
of poorly healed fractures, cuts, scars and being malnourished seems to suggest
wherever she has been has not been easy.”      

“They should make a perfect couple then considering all the
scrapes that Jon manages to get in,” Paul quipped, but was interrupted by the
sound of the door sliding open and Miranda eyeing the two of then warily.

“What was that about the Commander?” Miranda asked
suspiciously.

“I was just referring to Jon,” Paul replied easily.  “As the
chief executive of the company and the owner of
Terra Nova
everyone just
refers to him as the Commander; it’s easier,” he explained.  “Talking of which
he asked me to escort you to his office when you had finished getting
dressed.”  Observing that she had now changed into a pair of dark form fitting
slacks and matching shirt he motioned her towards the exit of sickbay. 
Following behind her as they departed sickbay Paul let his eyesight slowly
drift lower. 

What a great posterior,
Paul thought to himself.  
If
I was a couple of years young and not already married…

*****

On the way towards Jon’s office Miranda slowed down to be
able to walk abreast of Paul in a clear indication that she wanted to discuss
something with him.  Realising that he still did not know her name Paul
introduced himself.

“By the way I am Paul Harrington, operations chief for
Vanguard and second in command of
Terra Nova
.”  Glancing at Miranda who
remained stubbornly silent Paul rolled his eyes and enquired, “and you are…?”

“Miranda,” she replied succinctly.

With a grin Paul replied, “Well nice to meet you Miss
Miranda.”  She gave him an angry glare, which made Paul grin even more. 
Grinding her teeth in frustration Miranda remained silent. 

Having been married for over ten years Paul had a feeling
that she wanted to ask something so he remained silent and started counting in
his head.

One.

Two.

Three.

“So where did the Commander get his ship?”

Paul smirked and thought,
works every time.
 
“Which
ship?” he inquired, deciding to try and keep the conversation going and see if
he could get Miranda to open up a little.  “Vanguard owns quite a number.”

“The one that he was flying when I… I mean the one that he
picked me up in,” Miranda corrected her oversight quickly.  
Probably not a
good idea going around admitting to everybody that she had been trying her
hardest to kill their boss,
Miranda considered.

“You mean the
Eternal Light?
” Paul replied.  “That is
a long story but I suppose you could say that he kind of stole it.” 

Miranda looked up in shock, it was obviously not the sort of
answer that she had been expecting.  “He
stole
it!” she exclaimed.

“Well…” Paul backtracked a little. “You need to ask Jon for
all the details but basically the ship belonged to the Imperial Navy, it was
assigned to Jon so that he could transport some very important… cargo.”  It was
obvious that Paul was choosing his words carefully. “The Navy decided soon
after that they wanted the cargo back to… dispose of.  Anyway Jon had no intention
of returning the cargo knowing full well what they had in mind for it.  Hence he
kept the ship… and the cargo.  Well at least Jon managed to keep hold of the
ship but not the cargo.”  He laughed at his obviously personal joke.

“You have known the Commander long?” Miranda inquired,
getting caught up in Paul’s retelling of the story.  When she had first seen
the ship she had detested its owner, Radec, assuming that unlike her, he had
been born with money and given every privilege in life.  She had assumed,
wrongly obviously, that he had paid a small fortune to either have the ship
built or to buy it from its previous owner.  However, with Paul’s retelling of
the story she realised that maybe they were not so different after all, both
put in impossible situations with few options to choose from.  Paul had also
piqued her interest regarding the cargo, what could have been so important for
Jon to refuse to return it?  It was obvious that Paul was not going to
elaborate, so she made a mental note to ask Jon about it later. 

Shaking her head in disbelief Miranda realised that she was
already sub-consciously referring to the enigmatic Commander by his first name.
 She had been trying to kill him barely 24 hours before!  However the more she
found out about him the more of a mystery he seemed to become… how wrong the
Syndicate intelligence had been!  She was so caught up in her internal
deliberations regarding the Commander that she almost walked into the back of
Paul!  He had stopped in front of a door that Miranda assumed was an office. 
Taking a deep breath she prepared for her next encounter with the enigmatic
station Commander…

*****

A chime interrupted Jon’s concentration, notifying him of
the arrival of Paul and the young pilot, as he was reviewing the latest company
shipping manifests.  It suddenly occurred to him that he did not even know the
name of the young pilot.  He made a note to ask, before calling out, “Enter!”

The door smoothly slid open to reveal Paul and the young
pilot following closely behind. 

Ushering her into Jon’s office, Paul stated with a smirk.
“Miss. Miranda, as requested.” 

Looking up in puzzlement Jon was about to inquire if that
was her first, last, middle name or just a nickname when Miranda interjected in
a frustrated tone.

“My name is Miranda, just Miranda.”

Paul responded with a quick grin, “Well nice talking with
you, just Miranda,” he said before disappearing back through the door which
slid shut behind him. 

Glancing around the room curiously, Miranda’s sight was
quickly drawn to the large expanse of endless space on the left side of the
office.  It was difficult to miss a gaping hole in the hull of a space
station.  Jon watched curiously to see how she would react; generally people
reacted in two ways, either to note the expanse and then ignore it and try to
put it out of their mind for the rest of the meeting, or to react violently and
take a number of steps away.  Jon was curious to see how she would react.

Taking a few steps closer to the void Miranda reached out
her hand tentatively until she touched the surface of the energy barrier, and
then much as Paul had the day before ran her fingers across the field watching
the play of ripples in the energy field, fascinated.  Jon suppressed a smile as
if she had passed some secret test.

“You have an aversion to windows?” Miranda inquired
continuing to run her fingers across the barrier, bewitched.  “I hope you don’t
have any fluctuations in your power grid,” she commented.

“Not recently,” Jon replied with a grin, before motioning
her to take a seat across the desk from himself.  Leaning back in his chair Jon
took a moment to just stare at her unabashedly, she was certainly an enigma and
the very last thing he was expecting when he had brought the pod aboard the
‘Light
. 

Meanwhile Miranda was becoming very uncomfortable with his
steady gaze, and breaking eye contact asked, “Well now that you have me here,
what are you going to do with me?”

Tapping his fingers on the desk for a few moments Jon
replied. “It is less what I want with you and more what I should do with you. 
I need to know that you are not a risk to this station or any of my crew.” 

Miranda noted that he did not include himself in the list. 

“My head of security wants me to throw you in the brig and
leave you there until somebody from the Syndicate decides to come and get you. 
It could be a long wait,” Jon pointed out. 

Miranda held her breath not saying anything but internally
she was in agreement.  It was possible that the Syndicate would never
acknowledge her, especially as she had failed and lost their ship in the
process.  The Syndicate did not regard failure lightly.

“However, to be frank, we do not have the personnel or the
resources to confine anybody for an indefinite period of time.  Hence the more
extreme suggestion from my head of security…” Jon dipped his head in the
direction of the gaping void and the infinity of space beyond…  Jon let the
last statement hang in the air for a moment before proceeding.  “However, I am
not a merciless killer so I come back to my original question of what I should
do with you.  My earlier offer still stands, you are welcome to leave the
station at any time. Unfortunately it is several weeks before the next
freighter leaves for
Transcendence
.  Which still leaves me with the
question…are you a risk to this station or any of its crew?” Staring at Miranda
for a few moments longer Jon reached into a draw behind his desk and withdrew
an energy pistol that he kept there for emergencies. 

Miranda noticed the pistol immediately and tensed. Jon was
too far away for her to make a grasp for the weapon, and the exit was several
meters away.  She would be killed outright, long before she reached the exit. 
Always knowing that it was possible that her life would end in such a manner
Miranda sat waiting for the fatal shot.

She almost died anyway!  The shock of the pistol being
casually tossed onto her lap almost gave her a heart attack.  She looked up in
disbelief from the pistol to her antagonist still sitting casually behind his
desk.  Delicately, as if handling a venomous snake, Miranda carefully picked up
the pistol, a quick glance confirmed that it seemed fully charged and ready to
fire its deadly load with one quick squeeze of the trigger.  Casting an
inquiring look across the desk, she uttered the first word that came to mind,
“Why?”

Leaning back slightly in his chair, Jon replied.  “I need to
know that I can trust you with the safety of my crew and my station, therefore
I give you the opportunity to complete the task that I know you were sent to
do.  Better to put just one life, my life, in your hands than to risk the lives
of my crew or station.  So here is your opportunity to finish what you
started.” Jon gestured to the weapon in her hands.

Miranda was speechless, for the first time having no idea
what to do or say, instead she just stared at the deadly weapon in her hands
uncomprehendingly.  True, she had been tasked, only days before, with the
destruction of him and his ship, a mission with a target and she had tried her
very best to complete it, but that was one thing, impersonal, but to sit in
front of that person, to kill him in cold blood, to murder him…  Miranda had
always considered herself a pilot first and foremost.  Sure, she had destroyed
other ships before, often with little or no warning; she had done what was ordered
of her, but a murder?  No, Miranda had never thought of herself as a murderer
before.

Recognising her indecision Jon leaned forward and with an
intense stare explained, “I have faced death many times, in many different
situations.  I have stared down the barrel of a gun on countless occasions and
I have observed the people holding that weapon.  Some were scared, terrified of
having to pull the trigger.  Others were seasoned killers, merciless, they
would not give a second thought to pulling the trigger and when facing those I
knew that my death was for certain.  However, I look at you and I do not see
the face of a merciless killer.  I recognise that you have had to do some
unpleasant things in the past; you had few choices, but a killer?  A murderer?  No.
When I look at you I do not see that in your eyes, I don’t think you could pick
up that weapon and shoot me in cold blood any more than I could have shot you.” 
Jon let his voice fade away quietly and remained still, waiting to see what her
reaction was, if he had misjudged her…