The Last Praetorian

Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

Shocked into silence for a moment, surprised he had actually managed to reach her in person, Paul said the first thing that came into his head. “Sofia, you are not getting enough rest.”

The stunned expression on the princess’s face slowly gave way to an amused smile, as she replied, “Nice to see you too Paul, and I’m not surprised I look tired as it is three in the morning here, local time, on Eden Prime.”

Paul winced, as in his rush he had not thought to check the local time on Eden Prime. However, before he could apologise Sofia continued.

“Anyway, why the call, and how did you manage to get through my filters?”

Paul could see from her expression she was studying her own system to work out why the call had gone directly through to her. The comprehension, quickly followed by the sudden sick expression on her face, was enough to clue Paul in that she was jumping to erroneous conclusions. “Jon is perfectly fine,” he quickly said.

“I heard he was badly hurt a while back,” Sofia explained with a hint of worry. “But I was told he would make a full recovery with time. When I saw the reason for the call, I just assumed…” her voice trailed off.

Paul could only roll his eyes in disbelief at the antics of this couple. Having, to the best of his knowledge, not seen or spoken to each other for almost half a decade they seemed to be better informed about each other than most married couples. Then again it was not surprising Sofia was so up-to-date on the latest events on the station, as Sofia was the sole investor and owner of Vanguard. Paul wondered if Jon ever knew that all his activities, all the reports, the financial statements, all were indirectly going to Sofia.

When Paul first had the idea of starting this venture, his contact list was brimming with exceptionally qualified, un-employed, ex-navy officers and there seemed a good gap in the market running freight and logistics out on the rim. However, he needed a financial backer. Somebody with the initial seed capital to purchase the necessary ships, equipment and permits that such a company needed. Unfortunately his contact list for fabulously wealthy investors was rather slim; in fact there was only one person on it. A hugely wealthy ex-Imperial Princess, whom he knew via a close family friend. Sofia had immediately jumped at the opportunity, tired of the continuous political infighting. Before Paul knew it, he had the capital he required and, via Sofia’s political and military connections, the deeds to Terra Nova, the companies new corporate headquarters. Paul found it ironic Jon seemed to have spent his life after the Praetorian Guards running away from this striking woman, only to end up unwittingly bound to her. Then again, if Jon had never taken the time to investigate who actually owned Vanguard.

“Jon’s fine,” Paul reassured the young woman again. “He seems to be making a good recovery after his injury, even if he constantly refuses to follow Doctor Richardson’s orders to take it easy and rest. You know Jon.”

Sofia offered a weak smile upon this news. Yes, she knew what Paul meant. Jon was never comfortable with sitting around idly, waiting for events to take place, or at least he never used to be. Her smile turning sad once again. “How is he really doing Paul? It’s been so long since Jon and I last talked.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, as she remembered the harsh words the two had last exchanged.

Paul could only curse at history, duty, fate, whatever or whoever seemed so intent on keeping these two apart, and both miserable. “He’s doing okay,” Paul replied. “He still thinks about you, he mentions you occasionally,” he added, thinking that was a safe enough comment.

“And what about your newest crew member? I heard she is now running the company, while Jon is recovering. I saw her picture on the GNN broadcast. She seems very young and beautiful.”

It was only through years of debriefings with her father, Marcus, that allowed Paul’s expression to remain unchanged when he replied, nonchalantly, “She is also doing well. It was my idea to promote her temporarily, and she needs the experience.” Paul carefully schooled his expression to ensure that none of his more recent observations had a chance to leak. It was not his place to inform the princess of what seemed to be a budding romance between Jon and Miranda. Sofia had already been hurt enough.

However, perhaps somebody else had already informed Sofia? Or she had already guessed the truth, as she looked away from the view screen sadly. “It’s been so long the anger and the pain has mostly faded. It’s the hurt from not knowing that bothers me now. Why Paul? Why did he do it? Why hurt me like that? Why did he leave me? Was it something I said, something I did…”

Paul averted his gaze, not wanting to see the tears in the other woman’s eyes; cursing Jon for the hundredth time. What was worse was Paul still had no answer to any of those questions, years after she first asked him, weeping in his arms. Paul knew those actions hurt Jon just as badly, perhaps even more-so, as Jon had left on his self-imposed exile, leaving behind the few people he knew, and loved.

Now he spent his days shut away in his office, reviewing reports or eating alone, nothing to accompany him except that wide viewport with the stars brightly visible. As far as Paul could understand, Jon felt he deserved this penance; blaming himself for the past mistakes.

So engrossed in his own internal monologue, Paul failed to notice Sofia dry her eyes and turn back to the view-screen. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I am sure you did not go to all this trouble to reach me so as to watch me cry my eyes out over a long lost love. How are Carol and the kids?” she asked remembering the manners that had been drilled into her since a small child in her father’s court.

“They are good, thanks,” he said. “The kids are getting older and more trouble by the day. These days I usually have to threaten to call Gunny before I can get them to sleep.” The station’s kids had been in awe of the Marine Sergeant, ever since Lieutenant Castle’s daughter had recounted the story of how he had wasted the monster that was hiding in her bedroom wardrobe.

Sofia laughed, as obviously the story had also reached her ears on Eden Prime. In some ways Sofia was the last unofficial member of the station crew. As while she resided many light-years away on Eden Prime, all the crew knew the history between her and Jon. Paul pitied what would happen to anybody that hurt Sofia, wondering if that included Jon. Paul had not heard of Sofia being involved with anybody. As the Confederation President, Paul assumed her private life was pretty much non-existent, and any rumours of her involvement with anyone would make headlines, not the least as she was the last Imperial Princess, last in the Aurelius family line. Paul idly wondered what Jon would do or say if it became common knowledge the Sofia was involved with someone.

Probably wish her the best happiness, and go back to his office, dark and alone never to be seen or heard from again.

“And how are you, aside from tired, considering it’s three o’clock in the morning there? Speaking of which why are you still working at three o’clock in the morning?” Paul inquired.

“I’m fine, as for why I am up so late, I’m beginning to understand why father always looked so tired. There are never enough hours in the day, or night, to get everything done. Meetings and conferences all day, reports all evening, at some point I even try and find time to actually get work done.”

“Your father at least had the common sense to delegate some of his work and responsibilities,” Paul replied, noting with concern the dark rings under her eyes.

“My father was surrounded by competent fleet officers, able administrators and strong legislators,” Sofia retorted. “I’ve only got corrupt politicians and incompetent bureaucrats to work with.”

Paul smiled at Sofia’s succinct description of the Confederation government and replied. “Well your father had an excellent method of motivation. Anybody found incompetent was summarily removed, only occasionally with their head still attached.”

Sofia’s eyes brightened at the thought. “I wonder if I could raise a bill before the Senate to introduce such a policy for our bureaucracy. I can think of a half a dozen that could be cut down to size…” Sofia giggled.

Paul smiled, glad that for just a brief moment he could glimpse the young, headstrong princess he had first met back on Eden Prime. “What about yourself, Princess?” Paul asked, putting his old emphasis on her title, the same one he used for his six year old daughter. “You have not given any thought to settling down and starting your own family?” he asked, in his own oblique way inquiring if there was anybody else in her life.

For just a brief instant Sofia seemed completely taken by surprise by the question, but then realising Paul was inquiring if she had met anybody and not about children, she replied sadly. “No, to be honest I have not had the time. Anyway, after Jon…” Sofia trailed off despondently.

Briefly Paul considered what he would do if he ever lost Carol. Paul could not even contemplate the thought, and guessed that dating or finding anybody else would be the last thing on his mind. But what could he advise? That she should find somebody else? Move on after Jon? Well Jon certainly had not. Paul knew with absolute confidence that before Miranda, Jon had not taken a second look at anybody else. Furthermore, Paul knew from the station scuttlebutt he had more than a couple of offers, from some of the younger female crew, who looked upon Jon with awe, to some of their more frequent customers, who were strongly attracted to the young, handsome but private leader. So intent was Paul on his response that he almost missed the question asked by Sofia.

“Anyway, while I am sure that my love life, or lack of it, is high on your list of priorities—do you want to let me know the real reason for this call? I doubt you purposefully tripped almost every flag on my communications agent, just to check on my health?”

As always, so captivated by the younger woman and saddened by circumstances, Paul had almost completely forgotten about the purpose of the call. Taking a deep breath, Paul explained, “We have a problem.”

Sofia only gazed at him quizzically for a moment, before she broke out in laughter, the first truly joyful sound that Paul had heard from her since starting the call. Paul could only grin, when he realised to himself how that sounded.

“Only one?” Sofia replied, finally catching her breath. “In that case you must be slipping, as reading your reports usually there are at least half a dozen on-going crises on the station at one time.”

“Well this one is a little more serious than most. You are aware of our on-going conflict with the Syndicate Cartel in this system.”

Sofia’s smile faded and her eyes became more serious when she replied. “Yes, I read the intelligence reports supplied to me by the office of naval intelligence. I could see you, Jon and Sergeant Reynolds fingerprints all over it. Additionally that little dis-information, propaganda campaign seemed to bear all the hallmarks of your Lieutenant Edgar. Fortunately naval intelligence seems to be completely in the dark and I’m stonewalling their investigation as best as I can.”

Paul nodded his head in thanks to Sofia’s selfless actions in protecting them and the company’s involvement in the incident. He went on to recount the story, describing in depth the conspiracy they had discovered hidden behind the Syndicate cartel. As Paul recounted the investigation, Sofia’s face became more and more furious. By the time Paul had finished, the young woman was livid.

“Why was I not informed of this?” she thundered. “This is the sort of intelligence that should have immediately been brought before the Senate, or at the very least to me.”

Paul looked away, his cheeks flaming from the strong rebuke and, what was worse, Paul agreed with her. This news should have been brought before the Confederation long before. If it had, then events might have not spiralled so badly out of control, and the current predicament could have been avoided. Of course Jon had made it perfectly clear to the senior staff, Paul included, that he would forward this intelligence appropriately. Paul briefly wondered what Jon had done with it, probably stuck it under a file entitled, no action required.

“Jon insisted he would act on the intelligence immediately,” Paul responded evasively. “I’m sure that it’s just because events have overtaken—”

“Bullshit,” Sofia interrupted Paul angrily. “At the very best he has filed it away for future consideration, mostly likely he simply destroyed it, but why?”

Paul ardently hoped Sofia did not come to the same realisation as him, but the wide-eyed expression that suddenly appeared on her face soon dashed that hope. Paul was reminded he was not the only person who knew the inner working of Jon’s mind so well. In many ways Sofia knew Jon even better than he did.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Sofia replied in disbelief. “He purposefully suppressed that information because he didn’t want me finding out about it, as he knew I would take necessary action to protect the Confederation. He still thinks of me as that young naïve Princess he pulled off the Imperial Star so long ago. Well, I’ll show him,” she seethed.

Uh-oh.

“Before you make any hasty decisions, I think you had better hear the rest of it.”

“There’s more?” Sofia demanded, eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Paul continued to recount the recovered recording between Magistratus Mallart and Commodore Harkov. By the end of the story there was a very pale and shaken princess, her anger all but forgotten.

“Harkov is on his way to you, with the 4th fleet?” Sofia whispered, terrified.

Paul nodded. “This is all about the Commander, Jon. Harkov loathes him, blames him for disrupting his plans, but also I think he fears him. He knows that Jon will stop at nothing to kill him. It’s a personal vendetta between the two of them.

“Harkov hates Jon. Even before my father’s death the two of them despised each other. Harkov is going to kill him.”

“Possibly,” Paul shrugged. “I don’t honestly think Jon cares. All he cares about is this personal blood feud that they have. I don’t think Jon cares if he lives or dies, as long as he kills Harkov first.”

“But it doesn’t make sense. Sure Jon hates Harkov, but not enough to risk all your lives. What is it that you are not telling me Paul?” Sofia demanded intuitively.

“Jon is going to face Harkov and the fleet alone,” Paul sighed. While Jon had never said the words out aloud in the briefing earlier, Paul knew in his heart that it was what Jon had planned. “He will order the crew to abandon the station, he will go up against Harkov alone.”

All the blood drained from Sofia’s face, and for a moment Paul thought that she would faint. “It’s suicide,” she muttered. “He is going to go and get himself killed.”

“I don’t think he cares,” Paul said. “Jon seems to view his life as the cost he must pay for his past failures.”

“Well Jon might think his life is not worth much, and does not care if he lives or dies. But I do, and I expressly forbid him to go and get himself needlessly killed.”

Paul had to smile at the statement, as it reminded him so much of the younger Jon and Sofia, when the impossible was just another day for them.

Sofia meanwhile continued on. “While the Confederation fleet is spread very thin these days—damn all these budgetary cuts to the navy over the years, I tried to argue that it was a bad idea, but they would not listen—Anyway I’ll assemble whatever fleet assets we have in your sector and send them to you straight away. Meanwhile you keep Jon from rushing off and getting himself killed.”

“Very well, your Empress,” Paul said with a bow of the head.

Sofia looked at Paul suspiciously for a moment, then threw her head back, laughing. “Nobody has called me that in years, since Jon half-jokingly asked me if I wanted to rule the galaxy. At least I think he was joking.” Tapping her fingers thoughtfully on her desk for a moment she continued. “Come to think of it, I think it’s time that I paid a personal visit to Terra Nova.”

“Excuse me!” Paul uttered, with complete incredulity.

“Pay you a personal visit, you know, take a close eye at my investment, make sure that everything and everyone is working properly.”

“Excuse me!” Paul uttered again, completely lost for any other words at the impending disaster.

“Why Paul, have you still not told Jon who the real owner of Vanguard is?” Sofia asked with a knowing smile.

“No, to be honest it has never come up in conversation,” Paul replied embarrassedly.

“Then I think it is high-time for Jon to find out who is really in charge,” Sofia said with a predatory smile.

Paul could only stare in horror at Sofia’s smug look as he thought about the meeting between these two volatile personalities. They were going to either end up killing themselves, or naked and entwined over Jon’s spacious desk, or possibly both! Come to think of it Paul had not seen Jon all evening, ever since their heated words in the briefing room. Paul could only assume that he had retired to his quarters for the evening, alone. He had also not seen Miranda that evening either and the two had seemed very close, as they had entered the briefing room together, hand in hand, Miranda laughing at something Jon had said.

Meanwhile, Paul felt as though he had swallowed a hot iron ball, the way his stomach was doing summersaults. After years of encouraging Jon to go out and get a life, he finally had. Only for his old life to materialise in their docking bay. Paul felt sick to the stomach, the only thing that could be worse would be Jon finding out about him and Sofia. The way that his luck was going recently, it seemed a sure bet! Closing his eyes, Paul made a quick prayer that the 4th fleet would turn up and swallow him whole first.

Giving Sofia a sickly smile, he replied. “Obviously we will look forward to your arrival.”

Sofia just laughed and replied. “I just bet you do. I’ll send you whatever fleet assets we have in the area. See you soon.” And, with that, the communication link terminated. Paul could only stare at the blank screen in dread, wondering how he was going to explain this one to Jon.

Sofia smiled at the sickly expression on Paul’s face as she cut the channel.

Well it served him right, for calling me at three in the morning and scaring me to death about Jon. She thought to herself with a smile that soon turned wistful, as she picked up one of the photos on her desk. It was a photo of her and Jon taken many years back and was one of her most prized possessions, along with her mother’s wedding ring and a priceless paperback copy of Aristotle’s Poetics that had been inscribed to her by her father.

Sofia was certain Jon would have hated the picture, as he was a very private person and this one had been taken without his knowledge. Sofia remembered the scene well, as it was taken at the reception, soon after the signing of the Confederation Charter. Sofia had been cornered by one of the Senators, whose impenetrable boring discussions into the body of the charter were causing her eyes to glaze over. Suddenly she had felt movement behind her, and before she could react or call out, an arm had whipped around her waist to ensnare her. Almost at the same time she felt the soft stubble of Jon’s whiskers tickle her neck, quickly followed by his tongue. Looking over her shoulder, about to admonish him for the rude interruption, he had whispered into her ear, of where he would much rather be, and much rather be doing! She had flushed a bright scarlet at his heated words and had quickly made her apologies at their sudden departure. The picture showed them entwined, with Sofia peering over her shoulder into Jon’s eyes, which were dark with arousal, and the blush forming on her cheeks from his words.

More than once Sofia had cried herself to sleep, the picture clutched tightly to her breast, but far more often she had instead stared at it for hours. Trying to fathom the reason for Jon’s abrupt change of heart, barely days after the photo had been taken. Others had tried to console her, regarding the fickle nature of men, and their love ’em and leave ’em nature. But they did not know Jon like she did. In her heart she knew him and knew he was not like that. She knew deep down Jon must have had his reasons for doing what he did, but in the intervening years she had never managed to fathom why.

In the early years, soon after Jon’s abrupt and angry departure, Sofia had gone on a couple of dates, mostly to spite Jon, more than out of any real interest. However, too many times over dinner or drinks, Sofia had looked up into her date’s eyes, puzzled why they had the wrong eye colour, be it blue, or brown, or some other colour, but not the stormy grey she had fallen hard for. The few relationships she had that had progressed beyond dinner or drinks had quickly fizzled out. Most had been too intimidated by her forceful personality, or had tried to mould her into what their expectations of an Imperial Princess should be, devoid of any personality or intellect, a beautiful statuette, who they expected to stand there and look pretty.

Jon had never tried to change her. He had always made it clear she was perfect as she was. He had enjoyed their discussions, or so he claimed. He had forever treated her as an equal, although perhaps one he placed high on a pedestal—too many times for Sofia’s comfort. No, Sofia compared a number of different men to Jon, and found them all lacking. As for the physical side of their relationships, Sofia shuddered. The few who had reached that stage, kissing was cold and uncomfortable. As if somebody had placed an ice-block along her spine, the only result was goosebumps down her back. Kissing Jon had not left her cold. Quite the opposite. With Jon she felt as though she were on fire, that she would be burnt alive and the only thing that could extinguish the flames was Jon. So no, she had been telling Paul the truth when she said that there was nobody else in her life, only her work.

Lately her work did not seem to be enough anymore. She remembered when she first joined the Senate, the desire to do good, to help people. To make a difference. The naïve optimism of youth, Sofia assumed. The only force that ruled the Senate was inertia and public opinion. Sadly Sofia faced the truth that Jon’s actions and his manipulation of the media against the Syndicate cartel, with the resulting Senate rush of activity had achieved more in six weeks than she had realistically achieved in almost half a decade.

Well Jon is not the only one to take drastic measures, in drastic times.

Opening a channel to Fleet Admiral Sterling, she reached one of his very surprised aides, who pointedly informed the Confederation President that, at three in the morning Eden Prime system-time, the Admiral was asleep.

“That’s fine,” Sofia replied with a saccharine smile. “I’ll hold while you go and wake him up.”

While she waited on hold for the aides to raise the Admiral, Sofia thought back to her conversation with Paul. She would do whatever was necessary, pay whatever cost was required to get the Confederation fleet moving out to Terra Nova.

She knew Harkov hated Jon, hated him with an intensity bordering on an obsession. Sofia could still remember that terrifying moment, holding Jon’s broken body to her breast. She still awoke occasionally with a silent scream, covered in sweat, remembering the incident. No, she would do whatever was necessary to protect him from that same fate twice.