Read Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy) Online
Authors: Mike Smith
Gunny sidled up closer to Paul and quipped, “Do you think that the man has finally snapped under the pressure?”
Paul just gave Gunny an evil look, which turned into one of astonishment when suddenly the air in front of them seemed to shimmer, as if through a heat haze. Where moments before nothing had stood, now the unmistakable outline of a ship could be seen. “What the hell?” Paul muttered, in astonishment.
“Our transport.” Jon pointed towards the white shuttle, gleaming in the early morning sunlight.
“But how—?” Paul enquired, then snapped his mouth shut.
“The problem isn’t getting her to come, it is trying to get her to
stay.
” Jon muttered, as he ushered the rest of the group on board the shuttle. The door slid shut behind him as he stepped aboard. “Next stop,
Terra Nova
,” Jon announced to the still stunned passengers.
Chapter Nine
Terra Nova Station, Aquila System
It seemed as if the entire station had turned out to greet the arrival of the shuttle. It was only by pushing and shoving her way through the crowd, and by some judicious use of her sharp elbows, that Miranda finally made it to the front. So overcome with relief was she upon seeing Jon step out of the shuttle, alive and what seemed like mostly unharmed, that Miranda completely forgot about propriety and promptly threw herself into his arms.
Jon smiled, catching the young woman, the sight of her banishing some of the pain in his heart, if only temporarily. “You know, one of these days you are going to catch me unawares and we are then both going to go crashing to the floor. It’s so good to see you again Miranda,” he added, embracing her tightly.
Miranda felt herself relax, as at last she was in Jon’s arms, for the first time since she had received the horrific news about the attack on Eden Prime. At the time she had been burying herself in work, as she knew the time of the wedding was fast approaching and she had not wanted to dwell on the realisation Jon would forever be lost to her. She had known for a long time his heart belonged to another, but for that short period of time together on this station, he had been all hers.
Looking up from his neck, where she had been breathing in his scent—smoky and earthy, unique to him—she found herself being stared at by two pairs of eyes, closely observing their joyous reunion. It was only when she looked harder that she realised it was actually three pairs, as a third, frightened but curious, peered out through a gap in a large jacket that was wrapped around him. Red-faced with embarrassment, she quickly released her grip on Jon and took a step back, leaving him free to do the introductions.
“Miranda, these are my parents,” Jon explained. “They will be staying here on
Terra Nova
for a while, at least until the present crisis is resolved. Mum, Dad, this is Miranda Sun, Interim CEO of Vanguard and currently in charge of
Terra Nova
.”
After introductions were quickly made, Miranda noticed Jon’s parents were still looking at her with questioning expressions on their faces, and wondered just how she was expected to explain to them about her relationship with their son. With the bemused look Jon was giving her, she knew he was not going to be any help whatsoever.
“Miranda, has the Doc arrived back from Eden Prime yet?”
“Yes, he arrived a few days ago.”
“Good. In that case, please take my family to medical and have him give them a thorough check-up. Once he has given them a clean bill of health, can you find some suitable quarters for them, as they will all be staying here for a while. After that please come to my quarters, there is something that we need to discuss, in private.” Jon deliberately ignored his parents, whose ears picked up at his last words. He would be glad to pass them over to Miranda and let her answer their incessant questions. As the couple passed him by, following Miranda in the direction of medical, Jon caught his father by the arm in a firm grip. “Not you Dad,” he added. “You and I are going to have our own private chat. Right now.”
“But don’t you want me to go to medical? My health is not what it used to be son, I could—”
“You’ll be fine Dad,” Jon interrupted him, pulling him in the opposite direction to where Miranda, his mother and the boy were going, as his father looked longingly at the rapidly retreating group. “Anyway,” he added. “I’ve got some much better medicine than what the Doc has on offer.”
*****
A couple of minutes later, Jon was pointing to the empty seat in his old office, now Miranda’s he reluctantly admitted to himself, and went hunting through her desk drawers. “Here it is,” he proclaimed, withdrawing the half-full bottle of Scotch from the bottom drawer of the desk and poured some into two crystal tumblers before sliding one across the desk towards his father.
His father, meanwhile, didn’t seem to notice, as his gaze was drawn to the large, gaping void in the office. “I hate to break it to you son, but I think somebody has stolen a piece of your station from you.”
With a laugh, Jon explained to his father how he preferred this visage.
“Well if you’re sure, son,” his father replied dubiously. “I would hate to see what would happen if you had a power failure in this section.”
“I think that would solve a lot of people’s problems, mine definitely included,” Jon sighed tiredly, pressing the glass against his forehead for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the cool glass resting against his overheated skin. “Now, who is the boy?” he demanded, getting straight to the point.
“I don’t think I am the best person to answer that. Perhaps your mother…?” Ryan replied evasively, taking a large gulp of Scotch.
“Stop avoiding the question and just tell me,” Jon said irritably. “What’s his name? I cannot keep going around referring to him simply as ‘the boy’.”
“Marcus,” came back the whispered reply, his father not even looking him in the eye, preferring instead to draw random shapes on the desk.
Jon, meanwhile, was trying not to choke on the sip of Scotch he had just taken, as it seemed to be doing its best to come back
up
his throat. “He’s called what?” Jon croaked.
“Marcus,” came back the equally quiet whisper. “His full name is Marcus Aurelius II,” Ryan explained in a louder voice, resigned to the fact of the impending explosion.
“That's not possible,” Jon uttered aloud. “He is too young to be Marcus’ son…” His voice trailed off as the full realisation hit him like a fist in the gut, his face blanching, as he reached out to the corner of the desk to support his weight. “He’s Sofia’s son isn’t he?” he added, dropping into the seat opposite before his legs gave out entirely. He didn’t even need to look up to see the confirmation in his father’s face.
“She came to us with him about four years ago. She was completely distraught, told us there was nobody else for her to turn to, nobody else to help her. She begged us, Jon. She got down on her hands and knees in front of your mother and I and asked us to take the boy. To look after him, keep him safe and to love him. She kept saying there was nobody else.”
“But why? Why didn’t she come to me?” Jon asked out loud in amazement. “I would have—” he stopped, as he realised why Sofia would not have come to him. “Who's the father?” he demanded, his voice changing from hurt to anger. “Goddamn it, Dad, answer me!” Jon slammed his fist on the table hard enough to make the glasses on it rattle. “Who is the father?” he enunciated each word clearly.
“I don’t know,” his father finally confessed. “She wouldn’t tell us. Sofia just said the father didn’t want her or the baby.”
Jon stumbled to his feet, desperately struggling for breath. He walked to the energy field that protected the office. Reaching inside his uniform, he brought out Sofia’s wedding ring, which he had attached to a chain so he could wear it round his neck. In that way it would always be close to him, resting against his heart. He remembered the final conversation he had with her, as she had desperately tried to tell him something. But all Jon could recall was the look in her eyes. The look of stark fear and terror that he would not understand and would reject her if he knew the truth. For while she had told him on the
Protector
that there was nobody else, obviously that did not preclude the fact there
had been
another person, once.
Somebody she had a child with.
Jon felt an overwhelming need to break something but, unlike him, Miranda kept her office spotless. Hence his half-finished glass of Scotch had to suffice, exploding into a million crystal fragments as it impacted against the wall. Without even a glance backwards Jon strode from his office, leaving his father alone.
“Well, that could have gone better,” Ryan muttered out loud to the empty office, before taking another sip of Scotch from his own glass, which he had managed to rescue just in time.
*****
It was much later at night, station time, when Miranda finally rang the announcer for Jon’s quarters, wondering if he was still awake. She had been deliberating for some time whether she should come, as she had not set foot inside his quarters in several months. Last time was when they had danced and would have kissed, had it not been for Jason’s most untimely arrival. She had debated for most of the day whether to come, but her decision had been made for her by what Irene, Jon’s mother, had said to her.
“Go talk to him, dear. You never know, he might surprise you. Jon has been alone for so long. Neither Ryan nor I want him to spend the rest of his life like this. Perhaps you can help him to heal. He has lost everybody he cares about, more than once, and I worry—surely a person can cope with loss only so many times alone in their life,” she had added.
In the end it was those words that had made the decision for her, as she had seen Jon at his worst and, Paul’s assurances aside, she worried this time he would not recover but, instead, just disappear from her life, this time forever. She did not know how she was going to cope with that, never to see him or his smile again, feel his touch. In the end she decided she would give him whatever he required to help him through this difficult time. As the door finally slid open, the dark portal beckoning her to enter, she pulled nervously at the short skirt she had hurriedly changed into. Checking her hair one more time she stepped into the darkened room.
She had only taken three steps into the room, the door sliding closed behind her, when her nerves returned full-force, as she reminded herself that this was not just Jon any longer, but the Emperor. She had watched his broadcast more times than she could remember, trying to catch just a glimpse of the man she had fallen in love with, but it had been futile. The man in that broadcast had borne no resemblance to the one she had once known, the authority and force of personality he projected had been overpowering. As if he really was the last in that long line of Imperial Emperors, with all the raw power, charisma and arrogance that clearly came with the role.
She wondered which person she would find in his quarters, in his bed tonight.
Sensing, rather than seeing his presence, she nervously fell to one knee, uncertain how to address him, she whispered. “My Emperor, you requested my presence.” She did not even see or hear him move, but suddenly he was there. In front of her, pulling her to her feet with a grip that was almost painful.
Leaning closer, until she was face-to-face with him in the dark, she could barely make out his expression, but his eyes were clearly visible. Not the misty-grey she had long come to associate with him, but the dark, angry, heated gaze she recognised all to clearly from the broadcast. The person standing so close to her was not the man she knew, but Emperor Radec, and she could clearly feel his fury, rolling off him in waves, as he hungrily eyed her all over.
“You don’t kneel before me. Not ever. Do you understand?” the Emperor insisted, in a deep, throaty tone of voice.
Miranda was speechless, so just nodded her head in understanding, unable to tear her eyes away from his gaze, which seemed to draw her in, closer to him. She could feel his hard body under her hands, feel the heat and power that seemed to radiate off him.
“Why did you come here?” he demanded.
“Because you asked me to.”
“Why?” he interrupted her again, his grip tightening painfully on her shoulder.
“Because I wanted to, because I want you. I’ve always wanted you, from the first moment that we met, and the way you looked at me with that arrogant, over-confident smirk,” Miranda confessed, surprising even herself at the truthfulness of her declaration. Realising for all her noble intentions of coming here to help him, really it was all just an excuse, and what she really hoped for was to have him, as she had always wanted, to herself.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he took possession of her. Parting her lips, she moaned into his mouth as he deepened their kiss. He gave her his taste and she savoured it. She and Jon had shared many kisses over the years, some soft and tender, gentle, almost loving, others had been powerful, passionate, but none of them had been like this. Demanding, hungry, insistent, he seemed to consume her utterly, his taste exploding in her mouth, and when she took a breath, it was only to breathe in his taste and smell.
Then he stole her breath and made her skin tingle. He drenched her senses in his passionate intent. Pleasure simmered in her veins. Her heart pounded so hard, she thought that it might burst from her chest. She clutched at his shoulders as he repeatedly delved past her lips and into the wet heat of her mouth.
He teased her without mercy, ravaging her senses, staking his claim and tantalising her with peaks and valleys of sensation. He devastated her grasp on reality and sent her spinning into space.
Miranda craved every sweep and thrust of his tongue, every skilled movement of his lips, and then she craved even more of the same, but she knew she wasn’t guilty of greed. She needed him and Jon alone inspired her every wish, just as he alone possessed the power to satisfy it.
He drove his fingers into her thick black hair, fingertips kneading her scalp as he angled his mouth over hers and invaded her once more. She sucked at his deft tongue while her hands roved across his broad shoulders and down his back to his hips.