Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy) (24 page)

“No. We keep going.”

“Look, be reasonable, there is no way we can track them in this light. We could pass within a dozen metres of them and not even notice. We must wait for first light.”

“They are just ahead of us, as they have stopped and set up camp for the night. We will catch up with them soon.”

“Jon, stop for a minute and listen to yourself. I know you are worried about your parents, but you are mistaken, we can no longer even see the trail. They could be anywhere by now.”

Paul watched Jon pause and turn to face him. For an instant it wasn’t Jon standing there, encased in the dark cloak. When Paul stared into his eyes, he could not see his old friend but something else, which was dark, unfathomable and terrifying. That image caused him to take an involuntary step back, but after he had blinked it was gone.

“Stay here if you want,” Jon shrugged unconcernedly. “I’ll deal with them myself.” With that he turned his back on Paul and resumed his journey.

Paul just watched the retreating figure in disbelief. Jon had always been driven, but this was different. The intensity he radiated was frightening, as if he honestly didn’t care about the armed mercenaries that were still out there, ahead of them somewhere.

*****

The Sergeant had finally called a halt to the group an hour after the sun had set, as there was not enough light to follow the trail. He agreed, reluctantly, to allow them to light a small fire, as he had been briefed on how low the temperature could fall on this world and it would not do them any good to die from exposure. Anyway it mattered little, as the family ahead knew they were being followed closely and it would take many more days for the civil authorities to mount any sort of search. He still insisted though, that they post watches through the night, three for each shift, until sunrise the following morning.

Yet even with his back to a tree, facing away from the fire so not to ruin his night vision, he could not sleep. Something was bothering him, like an itch at the back of his neck he could not get rid of. A constant feeling that something was wrong. Over the years he had learnt to trust his instincts, as they had kept him alive for this long. So while the others soon fell asleep, he kept alert, his eyes open, sleep a distant thing from his mind.

It was a few hours later when he first noticed the movement, although with the faint light from the moon and stars that pierced the canopy of the trees, visibility was poor. A patch of darkness separating from one of the trees, moving quickly but quietly towards one of the guards on watch.

He was about to call out a warning, when he noticed other shadows appearing from the gloom. Glancing around, he quickly realised they were surrounded but, concealed as he was in the shadow of the tree, nobody had seemed to notice his presence. The warning died quickly on his lips, as it would only draw attention to his own position. Dropping silently onto his stomach he started to crawl further away from the camp, slipping through the tightening ring of shadows that had surrounded them. He was over a dozen metres away when he heard the first muffled cry, which was quickly consumed by the silence of the forest. Once he felt he was far enough away, he hurriedly got to his feet, moving swiftly and stealthily deeper into the forest.

“Going somewhere?” a voice interrupted his escape, as a shadow detached itself from the darkness ahead of him, blocking his path.

His hand instantly went to the pulse pistol at his waist then he hesitated, noticing that the figure ahead had no weapon in his hand. If he were to draw the pistol and fire, the sound of the shot would quickly attract others to his position, so he drew the knife from near his thigh, the blade as dark as the surrounding night and dropped into a combat stance.

The figure ahead of him did not move, just continued to stare at him with an unnatural intensity. “You were the one who killed the men in the house and brought down the shuttle.” It was not so much a question, as a statement of fact.

The announcement surprised the Sergeant and he paused in front of the figure. “Sure, that was me,” he said, with a twisted sneer. “I’m good at what I do. I guess I’m just a natural born killer.” Not pausing for an instant, he leapt at the figure in front of him, slashing at throat height, feeling the knife blade pass through the thin material of the cloak, cutting through flesh and sinew, the warm blood from the slashed jugular splashing over his face. He always felt a thrill when taking another life, the almost orgasmic feeling as their lifeblood was rushing out of them—

He took another shuddering breath, before falling to the ground. His legs were no longer able to sustain his weight. He felt the blood flowing freely from his slashed throat and looked up in astonishment, before all blood stopped flowing to his brain. Moments before he died he thought he heard the words echo from above him.

“Not anymore.”

*****

Having been unable to find any shelter and the three of them too exhausted to be able to continue, they found themselves in a natural hollow in the ground. Stefan had lined it as best he could with leaves and branches from the surrounding trees. They had then huddled together, with the boy in the middle, trying to share body heat as best as they could. Even though the boys was wrapped in the jacket, Stefan could feel him shivering. As the boy was the smallest, Stefan knew his body would not retain heat for long and that soon his shivering would stop, only to be followed by hyperthermia. If his body temperature fell much lower, then his body would soon start shutting down and eventually his heart would stop. Stefan didn’t doubt the rest of them would last much longer.

A sound of a twig snapping several metres away warmed his body, as adrenalin and endorphins flooding though his blood stream. The sound of his pistol firing reverberated through the forest. The approaching sound suddenly stopped, replaced a moment later by a voice calling out.

“Friendlies. Hold your fire.”

Stefan did hold his fire, but his pistol still pointed unwaveringly in the direction of the sound as he called back. “Identify yourselves.”

A moment later another voice called out. “It’s Jonathan Radec. Are my parents with you?”

Stefan looked into the shocked expression of first Ryan and then Irene. “It could be a trap,” he reminded them, thinking for a moment before calling back. “How do I really know it is you? Anybody could use that name.”

“I had a younger sister, Catherine. She died when I was twelve. Ask my parents anything about her, something that only they and I would know.”

After a hurried, whispered conversation Stefan called back. “What did your sister use to call you and what did she say that you needed?”

The silence to that question seemed to last an eternity, before they heard muttering. “For God’s sake why couldn’t they have just asked me her favourite colour or something?” The voice went silent for a moment, before it called back loudly, tinged with embarrassment. “My sister thought that I was a prince and I needed to get a horse.” The silence was broken soon after, by several sniggers from the surrounding darkness.

“Jon,” Irene called out as she, followed closely by her husband, stumbled out of the hole, with Stefan reluctantly following behind.

What followed in the next few minutes was a joyous reunion, only tempered by their current situation. Embracing his mother, Jon was shocked to notice a small figure in her arms. A small, angelic face, with startling blue eyes, peering out from a coat that was at least a dozen sizes too large for him.

“Cold,” the little boy complained, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

Before Jon could reply, his father interrupted him. “We need to find some shelter or at least get a fire started. We’ve all lost too much body heat already.”

Jon looked around the small clearing desperately, but knew that there was no shelter. The forest continued on for many hundreds of kilometres and the nearest shelter was Carrington City, at least a dozen kilometres back the way that they had just come. He doubted any of his family would make it that far. Making a snap decision, he turned back to Paul and Gunny.

“We need to get them into the warm. Signal the shuttles.”

Paul looked around the small clearing with a worried expression. “There is not enough space to land a shuttle, considering how dense the foliage is around here.”

Jon nodded his head in agreement. “I had already thought of that. We need to clear a space large enough for a shuttle to land. Gunny,” Jon shouted. “Take a couple of men to a safe distance, then signal the fleet. We need orbital fire support. I want them to clear us an area of forest for the shuttles.”

Gunny nodded his head in approval, hurrying to collect what he needed before departing with a few marines. The remaining marines started to set up camp, distributing blankets and self-heating emergency rations to the family.

“I hope that you know what you are doing, Jon,” Paul replied dubiously. “The last time the fleet opened fire on a planet it didn’t work out too well for us.”

*****

“Captain,” the Communications Officer shouted out across the command deck. “I am receiving an orbital-fire support request from the ground assault team. Highest Priority.”

“Tactical,” the Captain relayed the request. “Bring our forward gun batteries on-line and prepare to receive targeting coordinates—”

“Delay that order,” Admiral Romanov interrupted him, turning to face the Communications Officer from where the request had originated. “Authenticate that request. This fleet has already fired upon our own once before and I have no plans to repeat that mistake. For all we know we could be firing on our own assault team. Confirm that fire request is valid first.”

The Communications Officer nodded his head, suitably chastised and reopened the communication channel to confirm that the request was indeed valid. After several more minutes he turned back to the Admiral, responding. “I’ve confirmed the validity of the request, Admiral. It’s definitely from the ground assault team. They are requesting orbital-fire support to clear a landing zone for the shuttles and have asked for immediate medical evacuation for some civilians.”

The Admiral raised an eyebrow at the unusual request, but nodded her head in the direction of the Captain to indicate that he could proceed. She assumed the order came from Jon, as only he would think of using a railgun, orbiting almost six hundred kilometres overhead, to clear a landing zone.

“Ready to fire,” the Tactical Officer reported, after checking the targeting coordinates twice, ensuring the ground assault team and civilians would remain unharmed.

“The ground team is requesting a firing hold of at least five minutes, while they get to a safe distance. Scratch that, they are requesting a ten minute hold to be doubly safe.”

Anna had to work on keeping her face expressionless. “Let the ground team know we will give them an ample amount of time before we start shooting at them,” she confirmed with a straight face, biting her cheek to stop from laughing.

*****

“The fleet have acknowledged the request, Sarge, and confirm they will give us sufficient time to get to a safe distance before they start shooting,” the young Corporal shouted down from the tree tops.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Gunny muttered under his breath. “Now hurry up Corporal and get back down here and we’ll head back. ”

“Uh, Sarge?”

“Yes Corporal?”

“Why am I the one who had to climb the thirty foot tree?”

Gunny looked up at the Corporal, who was hidden somewhere in the upper branches. “You don’t think I’m going up there do you? I leave climbing trees to the younger generation. I’d break my goddamn neck getting down from up there. Now double-time it Corporal as we are currently standing at ground zero of the targeting coordinates we just gave the fleet,” he growled.

The two of them just about made it back to the camp when their allocated time ran out and, with a loud “Incoming,” from one of the marines, the group dived to the ground, as what appeared like a glowing meteorite flashed overhead, impacting a kilometre away. In the distance the horizon flashed a bright white, and were it not for the fact everybody was already on the ground, none of them would have been left standing after the impact. A few seconds later, a hot blast of wind came whistling through the trees, blowing dust and leaves everywhere.

Once everything had calmed down again, the group staggered to their feet, collected their gear and hurried in the direction of the blast.

“Ma’am, may I help you with the boy?” Paul politely asked Jon’s mother.

“Why yes Paul, that is very kind of you,” Irene replied. “My, what a polite and courteous young man you are,” she added, glaring at Jon, who had been eyeing the boy uncomfortably since their arrival. Paul took the boy, who was still wrapped in the thick jacket with an additional blanket around him to give him extra warmth. The boy’s head peered out from a small gap, obviously curious to see what was happening. Irene looked at the pair in astonishment before commenting. “You two share exactly the same eye colour. I am sure he will be a hit with the ladies when he grows older.”

Paul’s cheeks went a bright red. Jon, meanwhile, just rolled his eyes at the unsubtle dig at his lack of assistance, before turning back to finish his conversation with the marines.

Twenty minutes later the group arrived at a large clearing where the impact had vaporised the surrounding trees. They could already make out the waiting shuttles, ready to carry them back to the fleet.

With a final salute to Jon, the marines hurried ahead to the shuttles, which lifted them up and climbing away from the now much smaller group. Jon and his party were left alone in the still smouldering clearing.

“I thought that the plan was to get everybody on board the shuttles and get them to safety. Not for us to be abandoned here,” Paul replied with some concern, looking first at Jon’s family still wrapped in the blankets and then the now deserted clearing.

“That’s still the plan. We just have a different destination that’s all,” Jon explained, glancing around the clearing. The sun was just starting to appear over the horizon giving some thin, watery light. “I still don’t trust the fleet, and I want to get my parents to a place that I know is safe. Those assault shuttles aren’t equipped with faster-than-light engines and so we need something a little bigger. Where the hell is she? ’Light!” Jon called out loud.