The Last Praetorian (47 page)

The SPC
Intrepid
accelerated towards the smaller
shuttle at flank speed, desperate to assist the occupants. 

Present Day

Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

It was a very uncomfortable, sickly looking, Paul Harrington
that arrived late for the Senior Staff meeting, early the following morning. 
Paul had stayed up late, long after his conversation with Sofia had ended, his
guilty conscience waging war with the obligation that he felt towards Jon.  His
stomach was not much helped by the bombshell that Sofia had dropped during the
call, that she would be paying the station a personal visit.  Paul knew that it
was his duty to inform Jon and the senior staff of the visit, but how the hell
do you drop a visit from the Confederation President into a conversation?  Not
to say the least that it immediately begged the next question,
how do you
know of an impending visit by the Confederation President?

No, Paul felt distinctly sick, and his mood was not helped
by the fact that eventually he fell into a restless sleep, dreams full of
escaping down deserted station corridors, fleeing flaming swords and women with
auburn hair and green eyes.  Having overslept, Paul was disgruntled to find
that Jon had called a further senior staff meeting at short notice, for first
thing in the morning,
and he was already running late!
 Paul could not
decide which thought was most appealing at the moment – Harkov and his fleet
arriving and blowing them all to hell, or Sofia arriving and she and Jon
killing each other.  Either option would put Paul out of his misery… The final
icing on the cake, having rushed to the briefing room, as if the flames of hell
were lapping at his heels, Paul arrived to find that Jon…was not there. 
Neither was any coffee.

Today was NOT starting off to be a good day
, Paul
grouched to himself silently.  Quietly asking around the room to see if anybody
had any clue of why Jon had called the meeting.  Perhaps it was to charge their
Operations Chief with treason and his public execution? After all Marcus had
been known to indulge in such public spectacles, and Jon was by far his most
adept pupil.  Still lost morosely in thought, he looked up as the doors slid
open and he observed Jon practically skip into the room.

Well at least somebody had a good night,
Paul thought
sourly.  Suddenly realising what that thought could possibly imply, and bearing
in mind the imminent arrival of a particular Princess, Paul frantically looked
around the room.  He was only partly relieved to see Miranda present, fully
clothed, seated and staring at Jon with a worried expression.

Well at least that is one less thing to worry about.

Once Jon was sure that he had everybody’s attention, he
activated the holoprojector, which rendered a three-dimensional tactical map of
Terra Nova
and the surrounding space.  The image hovered ghostly only
inches above the briefing room table for all to see.  “Following the meeting
yesterday, I had a number of visitors last night, all of whom made their
personal views on the imminent attack blatantly clear,” Jon racked the faces of
his senior officers with his penetrating gaze one-by-one.  Many of them had the
decency to cast their gaze away to avoid his piercing stare.  “However, I have
always made it clear that I value my senior officer’s opinions and insights,
that
has not changed.
  I confess that my original plan had been to order the
evacuation of the station; I would have remained behind to ensure that
Terra
Nova
did not fall into Syndicate or Harkov’s hands.”

Paul could only guess the half of it.  Somehow he doubted
that the original plan had entailed Jon simply overloading the fusion reactor
and making a clean escape…well not unless Harkov was sitting on the reactor at
the time…

“Numerous members of the senior staff made it plainly clear
that they had no intention of following such orders.  Therefore as it is not
practical to charge my entire complement of senior staff, with the exception of
Paul…”

All eyes in the room turned to face Paul, who just shrugged
nonchalantly.  “I was putting the kids to sleep, I would have got around to
doing it.”

“…with failing to follow a direct order and treason.  It
looks like we will have to go with the alternative plan, demonstrating to the
Commodore why the people sitting around this table are the elite of the old
Imperial Navy.  Harkov has ruined enough lives, caused the deaths of too many
innocents; I say we draw the line here.  No more.  If it’s a fight that Harkov
wants, then it’s a fight that he will have, and if we fail?  Then perhaps it
will send a message to the Confederation, that there are still some people left
that will stand and fight for what is right, that the strong cannot always
intimidate the weak.  That threats, intimidation and violence do not hold sway
over all…” Jon cast his eye across the occupants of the room, proud that he had
known them, proud that he had the opportunity to serve with them. 

“I will not make this an order,” Jon insisted firmly.  “Some
of you have family, loved ones, both here on the station and across the
system.  Nobody would think less of you if you wanted to leave, I will be
extending that offer to all occupants of the station both crew and families. 
This is
not your fight,
but if you want to stay, then I will be honoured
to fight at your side.”  Glancing once more at the occupants of the room,
none of whom had said a word, none of whom had moved an inch.  “Very well
then…” Jon said, turning towards the holographic tactical display floating
above the briefing table, “then here’s the plan…”

For the next few hours Jon walked through the plan in
exacting detail.  By the end of the first hour, Paul’s jaw was sore from his
mouth being agape in astonishment.  Having known Jon for so long, it was easy
to take his casual style of command for granted.  However, he was reminded
during the briefing why Jon had made Commander in the Imperial Fleet, the
youngest Commander in the history of the Imperial Navy.  Jon had one of the
best tactical minds of his generation.  Effortlessly balancing response times,
ship speeds, capabilities and weapon ranges, Jon had overnight produced a plan
that was worthy of any fleet admiral, equal parts genius and reckless folly. 
In summary it was a plan uniquely of Jon’s devising and possibly, just maybe,
it could work.

At the end of the briefing, Paul raised the only concern
that he could foresee.  “What about the
Imperial Star?
” he said,
referring to the old flagship of the Imperial Navy.  “I see no mention of it
during this plan, that ship alone has the armaments and fire-power to tear our
ships and station apart.”

“Leave the
Imperial Star
to me,” Jon insisted.

“And you’re going to
deal with it
alone, how?” Paul inquired.

“That’s on a need to know basis, and you
don’t
need
to know.”

Which was Jon’s way of saying that he was not going to tell
him, as he would not like the answer.  In turn this meant that the plan was
dangerous, highly risky and most likely going to fail.  Then again the entire
plan was the same - too many assumptions, too many estimates, educated guesses
about manoeuvres, positioning…  Then again as Jon would remind him,
no plan
survives first contact with the enemy
.  They had both had that quote drilled
into them at the fleet academy, and how many subsequent engagements had they
been in together where the plan had gone out the window even before the first
shots were fired.  Paul sighed despondently, there was nothing that either Jon
or he could do about that.

With no further questions, a lot of preparation’s to make,
and an uncertain timeframe, as they had no idea if the fleet would arrive in
the next few hours, days or weeks, the meeting quickly broke up, with the
senior officers preparing to brief their departments. 

“You’ve been very quiet,” Jon mentioned after the rest of
the officers had left the room, leaving just the two of them, alone.

“I still think we should inform the Confederation Navy, this
is their problem.  If you had only forwarded the intelligence on that data-chip
that you obtained on
Transcendence..
.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jon had the decency to look aside,
ashamed.  “Sofia, she would have…” his voice trailed off, “I couldn’t put her
in that danger,” he tried to justify.

“But you think that it is fine to put my family at risk, my
wife, my children?”  Paul demanded angrily banging his fist on the table in
frustration.

“They still have time to leave…” Jon pointed out reasonably,
“but what would happen if we all just pack-up and leave?  You think Harkov
would stop looking?  No, he would just find us another time, another place,
possibly next time without any forewarning.”  Leaning forward, Jon insisted
intensely “I care about them too, after all.  I have helped you read them
stories before bed, put them to sleep…  I’ll do everything in my power to keep
them safe, even if it costs me my life,” Jon stated earnestly.

Paul nodded his head in understanding; deep down he knew
that Jon would never put them purposely at risk, not even for his own desire
for revenge.  His anger was just born out of frustration and his own gnawing
guilt about his own recent actions.

“But I cannot do this alone,” Jon continued seriously. 
“I’ve always been able to count on you and your support, this is no exception,
and so what do you say?  One final time into the breach?”

“You know that your plan is completely insane don’t you?”

“Of course it is; all my plans are completely crazy.  What
you mean is that maybe it’s crazy enough that we might just be able to pull it
off?”

“Remember when Carol asks, it’s all your idea.”

“Yeah, like she will ever believe that,” Jon teased slapping
his oldest friend on the back.

*****

The next few days saw frantic activity throughout the
station as key systems were tested and re-tested; the refit of the final
freighter into a warship was hurriedly completed.  Jon spent a lot of time
personally checking the systems on the
Eternal Light,
ensuring that all
of the weapons were fully loaded and ready.

As he promised to his senior officers however, Jon took the
time out to brief the crew. Explaining in great deal the threat to the station
and the inherent risks they faced in staying.  He repeated his earlier promise,
that nobody would be forced to stay, anybody who wished to leave could do so,
with no stain on their honour.  Gunny made a short speech thereafter, assuring
all the inhabitants of the station that while the crew was fending off the
fleet, David, himself, Security and the Marines on the station would be guaranteeing
their personal safety.

The quiet confidence of the two senior officers made a big
impression on the civilians of the station and after some brief discussion, the
decision was unanimous, they were all staying.  Even the children present; while
they did not understand the seriousness of the situation, they agreed that they
were all better staying on the station with their parents.  If the imposing
Marine sergeant promised them that they would be safe, who were they to doubt
him?  After all, they had all heard what Gunny had done to the monster that was
hiding in Lieutenant Castle’s daughter’s wardrobe…  Any bad people trying to
get onto their station were going to be in
big trouble!

It was with quiet, determined, military efficiency that all
the systems were checked, refits completed in record time and weapons prepared…
that just left the waiting.  As nerves became strained, tempers frayed and
tension raised, it was with some relief that the gravimetric sensors, seeded
around the station many years before, chimed their alert reporting a large body
of incoming ships dropping out of FTL.

Paul in C&C was waiting to find out who the ships
exiting FTL belonged to, unsure what was the worst evil - Harkov and the 4
^th
fleet arriving to wreck their destruction, or the Confederation reinforcements
that Sofia had promised, along with the explanation of their presence. 
However, that question was quickly answered as the mighty Star Carrier, the
Imperial
Star,
flagship of the old Imperial fleet, exited FTL with its escorts in
tow.  There seemed little point alerting the station to the fleet’s arrival as
everybody was already on knife-edge and had been for the last 72 hours, when
Jon had announced to the station that the fleet that was en-route.

“Incoming communication from the
Imperial Star
, sir,
”
the communications officer reported needlessly as Jon had been expecting the
call for days.  Bracing himself, in preparation to face his past, Jon nodded
his head in acknowledgement.  Taking a deep breath, Jon faced the view screen
in preparation…
Act One

As the view screen came to life, Jon leaned forward in his
chair and before Harkov could say a word, pre-empted.  “You’re late Commodore,
we expected you several days ago.  Did you get lost on the way?” he smirked. 
The key to Jon’s entire plan was that they needed to keep the initiative, to
stay one step ahead of the Imperial Fleet, for if they did not, then they would
be crushed by their superior number of ships and sheer firepower.

Time had not been kind to Commodore Harkov.  When Jon had
seen him last, many years ago, poor exercise and an even worse diet had left
him pale and sickly looking.  If anything the man looked even worse, having
obviously put on several pounds, his hair, once streaked with grey, was now
thin and blanched almost white, and with thin beady eyes, that looked out over
his hooked nose.  He stared at Jon with poorly concealed surprise, mixed with
disgust and distaste.  However, Jon noticed something else lurking in his eyes,
was that a trace of fear?  Their last encounter several years before had not
ended well for the Commodore.  Then Jon only had a squadron of fighters at his
command, with the element of surprise firmly on the Commodore’s side.  Jon
expected that the Commodore would have much preferred the element of surprise
once again.