The Last Praetorian (6 page)

Jon simply slammed his fist against the console in
frustration.  However, his attention was quickly diverted by a quiet sob coming
from the seat opposite.  With one final curse at the Commodore under his
breath, Jon turned to face the grieving Princess.  Jon had never been confident
around women; especially tear-filled ones.  What to say?  “Princess,” he
uttered softly, desperately trying to think of something to say.  When she did
not respond, he uttered a soft, “Sofia.” 

Surprised at hearing her name uttered, as she had never
heard Jon refer to her by her first name before, she looked up at him with tear
filled eyes.  His gaze was filled with such sympathy and understanding that she
launched herself desperately into his embrace.  Having even less idea what to
say, Jon just made little reassuring sounds and gently rubbed her back in what
he hoped was a soothing gesture.  Of course as Jon ran his fingertips across
warm, silky soft skin he was abruptly reminded about her indecent dress, a
gentle sigh of breath against his chest caused such thoughts to flee from his
mind as he just held her in his arms until her tremors began to subside. 

The tender moment was abruptly interrupted by a bleep from
the communication system.  Glancing towards the view screen Jon observed Elsie
closely observing the scene in the cockpit.  For once her expression was not
disdainful, but sympathetic for the younger woman.  Like many of the
Praetorians she had lost loved ones close to her before…

“Commander, we monitored the communication from Harkov and
we are waiting for your orders.”  Jon experienced a brief rush of affection,
realising that they all risked court-martial together for disobeying the direct
order.  He quickly described his suspicions regarding the Commodore, Elsie’s
expression cooling then hardening during the re-telling.  By the time Jon had
summarised his concerns Elsie’s face was wearing a similar snarl to that of the
Commodore. 

Turning her attention to Princess Aurelius she swore, “Princess,
I swear to you that while a single Praetorian still draws breath, your father’s
death will be avenged.” 

Sofia, who had been embracing Jon ever more tightly during
the retelling simply offered a tear-filled smile and nodded her head in
thanks. 

Confirming his original intent, Jon insisted, “Lieutenant,
our original orders still stand.  We are to escort Princess Aurelius to Eden
Prime and ensure she is under the protection of the Senate.  At that point we
will confirm the chain-of-command with the Imperial Fleet.”

“Understood Commander,” Elsie confirmed, “we will continue
to hold position until you are ready to resume course.”  With a salute the
communication channel closed. 

Jon was momentarily puzzled, as he did not stick with strict
fleet discipline within the squadron.  It was only when he noticed Sofia
glancing at the view-screen that he understood that the salute had not been
directed at him but Princess…no Empress Aurelius now.  Realising that their
situation had now changed, Jon gently eased himself from her embrace and
tilting her head-up so he could look her in the eyes asked in a gentle voice.

“You ok?”  Sofia just nodded her head slightly in answer to
the question, before she asked what Jon had been dreading.

“What…what is going to happen to me?  What do I do now?” 
While Jon had a fairly good idea, he did not think it wise to worry Sofia yet,
anyway they had more immediate problems at hand, like making it to Eden Prime
alive. 

Instead Jon just replied, “For the moment let’s just
concentrate on getting you to Eden Prime safely.  We can worry about what
happens next after we arrive,” Jon answered truthfully.

“You won’t leave me?” Sofia asked in a small voice.

“Not unless you wish me to,” once again Jon answered
truthfully but inside a little piece of his heart died.  Upon her arrival Sofia
would be crowned Empresses.  Jon would continue to serve her, just as he had
her father, but never again would he hold her in his arms.  Tearing his gaze
from her tear filled eyes, he shifted his sight to the flight controls and
after ensuring that Sofia was seated comfortably in the co-pilot seat,
confirmed that the correct course was laid in and prepared to resume their
journey…

  …But as his fingers hovered over the controls to resume
their journey something stopped him.  Ever-since the communication from the
Commodore something had been nagging at the back of his sub-conscious. 
Initially he had just thought it the shock of the Emperors’ death, or the anger
at the Commodore’s betrayal, but over time the feeling had just become stronger
and stronger until he could no longer ignore it.  His fingers continued to
hover over the engine restart key…

As the squadron continued to hang, motionless in space,
between the stars it finally occurred to Radec what had been bothering him for
so long…  It was quiet, too quiet…  Stabbing the control on his pilot’s seat to
broadcast on the Praetorian’s private tactical frequency he demanded.

“Squadron, find me the fleet CAP!”  At a confused look from
Sofia, Jon explained.  “The CAP stands for Combat Air Patrol.  It’s a fleet
term from Old Earth, when they first introduced fleet aircraft carriers.  When
in unknown territory they would always have at least a few planes in the air
continuously, able to quickly respond to any threat – the Combat Air Patrol or
CAP.  This tradition has continued, and when the fleet is deployed there will
always be a CAP present…” However, in this instance it seemed not, as the calls
from the squadron replied, nobody could detect the CAP.  “That does not make
sense,” Jon uttered aloud.  No fleet would ever be deployed to the outer-rim
without a CAP, not if the fleet commander wished to keep his rank, or his head
if the Emperor had ever discovered the transgression.

“Well maybe they were needed elsewhere,” Sofia innocently
suggested.  Jon immediately dismissed the suggestion, after all what could be
more important than protecting the fleet.  Then slowly, ever so slowly, a
terrifying thought began to creep across Jon’s consciousness.  What if Sofia
was correct, a mission the success of which was paramount, where every single
available fighter was to be utilised to maximise the chances of a successful
outcome?  The Praetorians were fanatically loyal to the Emperor and his family,
no person or group was going to succeed in replacing him until both were gone. 
The entire squadron was assembled here, protecting the last of the Aurelius
bloodline with no witnesses present.

But how?
Jon thought desperately. 

Checking the scanners carefully there were no threats within
sensor range, only a few hundred kilometres would take them to the FTL jump and
safety.  Nothing could stop them in time… but still he could not come to
restart the engines, gazing helplessly out of the cockpit windows, with the
stars twinkling innocently, Jon desperately searched for an answer. 

With a brief flickering of light a star illuminated directly
ahead before vanished just as quickly; but there were no stars ahead.  The
squadron was following a parabolic course away from the nearest gas giant to
escape the gravity field and jump into FTL.  Ahead was just the asteroid field
where dust had accumulated over the millennia, accumulating in places due to
gravitational instability into asteroids…certainly no stars.  Then all at once
everything made perfect sense.  How do you ambush a squadron in deep space? 
You wait for them to come to you.  The navigational computer confirmed that at
current heading the squadron would pass within ten kilometres of the asteroid
belt – in astronomical terms barely a hairs width.  Jon knew with absolute
certainty that would be where the ambush was waiting.  The Praetorian’s were
trapped, with a fighter-ambush ahead and a hostile fleet behind.  They had run
out of options.

Five Years Previously

The “Imperial Star” – Flagship of the Imperial Navy,
Epsilon Indi System

On the bridge of the
Imperial Star
Commodore Harkov
tapped his fingers impatiently against the armrest of the captain’s chair.  The
owner of such chair was hovering impatiently just behind, but for much
different reasons….

“What is taking them so long?”  Harkov demanded aloud
impatiently.

“I assume you informing them of Emperor Aurelius death has
thrown them into a certain level of confusion,” Captain Pendleton responded
with more than a hint of his irritation showing.  The Commodore had appeared
only moments before and summarily demanded his seat. 
The nerve of the man!
 
Pendleton thought to himself.  Obviously the Commodore had no concept of bridge
etiquette; or he just did not care!

“Sirs!”  The ships tactical officer called out, “they are
moving again!”

“Finally!” Harkov exclaimed.

Finally!
Pendleton thought.
I can have my seat
back!

*****

Faced with such poor options either to continue forward –
into an ambush or to reverse course back towards a now hostile fleet, Jon
elected for the latter, on the assumption that if nothing else it would take
the fleet by surprise.

The element of surprise is a formidable advantage in
combat!

The voice of Jon’s flight instructor came to mind as he
rolled the shuttle back around on a reverse course – back towards the fleet - and
accelerated rapidly!  The remaining ships of the 58
^th
Squadron,
caught by surprise by the abrupt manoeuvre took a few moments to reorientate themselves
before accelerating once again into escort formation around the shuttle.

“Combat Formation!  Arm Weapons!”  Jon ordered over the
squadron’s encrypted tactical channel as he continued to accelerate, far beyond
the possible speed of a standard shuttle, still pointing directly towards the now
oncoming fleet.

“What’s going on, Commander?”  Elsie demanded to know. “Why
are we returning to the fleet?”

“It’s an ambush, Elsie!”  Jon explained. “The fighter
complement from the fleet is waiting for us at the edge of the asteroid belt!” 

Elsie’s expression just tightened on hearing the news, it
was a testament to their faith in their Commanding Officer that none questioned
his explanation.  Their CO had saved their lives more than once with his
insight and none were going to question him now.  “But how to get through the
fleet?”  Elsie queried. “We will be cut to pieces by their guns.” 

Jon glanced at the navigation computer, which indeed
confirmed that the route to the next nearest FTL point would take them directly
through the fleet.  Jon dared not risk a more indirect route, as he knew that
at any moment they would lose the element of surprise and the fighters behind would
be recalled.

“Arm your missiles!” he ordered. 

*****

“Sirs!”  The ships tactical officer called out once again,
“They have changed course!”

“What?”  Harkov demanded, darting to his feet and moving
towards the tactical officer.  “How, why?  What is their new course?” he
demanded spitting out the questions in rapid fire. 

The officer checked the ships sensors once again before
replying in a confused tone.  “They have reversed course…they are on an
intercept course with the fleet.” 

The Commodore was confused for a moment before relaxing. 
“So…Radec decided to follow orders for once in his life, they are returning to
the fleet.”  Harkov allowed himself a moment to envisage having Radec within
chains, kneeling at
his
feet once and for all…

What fun that we will have together
Harkov thought,
already picturing Jon’s face contorted with pain and his screams, begging him
to stop.

“Sir,” the tactical officer interrupted his imaginings. “The
squadron is continuing to accelerate towards the fleet, they are not slowing
down.  Time to intercept five minutes and decreasing.  They have just armed
their weapon systems!  They are going to attack!”  The officer exclaimed in
alarm, throwing a worried look at the senior officers.

“What?” Harkov roared, whirling to face Captain Pendleton.
“Launch fighters to intercept them!” 

Suddenly all thoughts of his chair flew from Pendleton’s
mind as with a cold sweat he replied.  “We don’t have any fighters to launch
Commodore.  You ordered all available fighters for the ambush.  Hail the
fighter-group in the asteroid belt and order their immediate re-call!  They are
to make best speed and intercept the Praetorian squadron.”  He ordered, but
even as he said the words he knew that their fighter cover would arrive too
late, far too late.  However, their fleet was not defenceless…   “Order missile
batteries one through to three to target the incoming squadron and fire as soon
as they have a lock!” Pendleton ordered, at last feeling that he was starting
to get a handle on the situation that had started to spiral out of control.

“Sir!”  The tactical officer cried out, “all missile
batteries report negative missile lock.  Sir, the missiles will not lock onto
our own fighters!”  Shocked, Pendleton fell back into his chair in disbelief. 
The missile targeting computers had specific blocks to avoid hitting a friendly
ship by accident.  Each missile would take hours to reprogram; they did not
even have minutes before the fighters would be on top of them.  Closing his
eyes in despair he wondered else could possibly go wrong?

“Missile launch!” The tactical officer yelled out in fear. 
“Incoming fighters have just launched missiles!”

Spoke to soon,
Captain Pendleton thought to himself
despairingly…

*****

As Jon nervously watched the minutes count down on the
navigation computer before they intersected with the fleet he began to plan
their next steps.  Right about now the fleet would discover that their missiles
would be useless against the incoming fighters.  The missiles would just refuse
to lock-on to what they considered friendly ships; however the ships’ gun
batteries were a different matter.  They would but cut to shreds as they
navigated through the fleet unless…