The Sunfire (20 page)

“I think she was too shocked to say anything, but little
Elizabeth hasn’t been afraid of any monsters since and thinks the world of
Gunny. Meanwhile Gunny made it clear to Castle that if she ever needs a hand
with Elizabeth, he would be happy to help. They’ve been close ever since,” Jon
added wistfully.

Surprised at his tone of voice, Miranda looked up into his
eyes, recognising the sadness and regret lurking in the corners. “What about
you?” She inquired, leaning across the table, so close to his face she could
feel his warm breath on her cheek.

“What about me?”

“Are you scared of the monsters that lurk in the wardrobe?”

Jon shook his head in the negative.

“Then what is it that scares you?” Miranda asked, honestly
curious.

Jon looked at her softy, his eyes full of emotion. Unable to
answer her directly, he reached up with his hand, gently running his fingertips
along her soft cheek. Barely above a whisper he replied. “I am scared of losing
more people I care deeply about.”

Staring into his soulful eyes, Miranda asked something that
a few hours ago she would never in her wildest dreams dared to have asked.
“Jon, I don’t want to be alone tonight. We don’t know what is going to happen
tomorrow, and I don’t want to have any regrets.”

Jon looked at her with wide eyes, stunned at the brazen
request, before his eyes clouded over and he broke her gaze regretfully.

Knowing Jon was only seconds away from denying her request,
she caught his hand in hers and pleaded. “Not for that, just hold me. Please?
Nobody has ever done that for me before.”

Jon looked back at her, preparing to refuse, when he made
the mistake of looking into her eyes, and saw in them desperation and the truth
of her words. Nobody had ever just held her before. Hence, instead of shaking
his head like he planned, he nodded in agreement. “Take off your clothes,” he
urged, his eyes like molten steel.

“You
—
What?” Miranda looked at Jon,
unable to believe what he had just said.

“Were you planning on sleeping in your flight suit?” Jon
asked reasonably. “I assume that you are wearing something underneath?”

Miranda just gave him an enigmatic smile. “That is for me to
know and you to find out,” she said standing up in front of him.

Jon could not tear his eyes from her, as she slowly unzipped
the flight suit, letting it fall to the floor next to the desk. Jon was not
sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when he observed her standing in a
black, cropped tank top and matching bikini panties. Jon could only stare with
undisguised desire at her toned body and endless flesh, his eyes lingering on
her bosom.

“Your turn,” she breathed, staring at Jon.

Standing up he unbuttoned his uniform jacket, taking his
time to slowly release each button. Once all had been undone he eased the
jacket from his shoulders, taking time to fold it over the back of a chair to
avoid it creasing. Hearing Miranda’s laboured breathing he knew she was
frustrated at his slow speed. Finally he reached his uniform pants, taking
extra time to release them. Finally he let them slide to the floor, showing his
strongly toned legs.

Miranda’s breath caught in her throat as she gazed upon Jon.
Well at least she had answered one question, whether he was a boxer or briefs
man, as Jon’s waist was encased in a pair of comfortable grey boxers.

“Have you finished ogling?” Jon asked with a laugh, after he
had finished folding his pants, placing them carefully on the back of the chair
next to the jacket. Moving to the bed, he slid his body underneath the blanket,
holding it open and motioning for Miranda to slide her body next to his.

Not needing to be invited twice, Miranda slid into the bed
next to him. She could feel his firm chest pressed into her naked back. His
skin seemed scorching hot compared to hers. Shuffling around, Miranda twisted
until she was chest-to-chest with him, resting her cheek over his beating
heart. Jon’s arms voluntarily came to surround her, pulling her closer.
Glancing up to the endless expanse of neck, Miranda could not help herself as
she flicked out her tongue, licking his skin. Miranda could feel his body
tense, the firm intake of breath his only audible response. However, Jon could
not fully mask his body’s reaction to her closeness as she could feel his hardness
pressed against her thigh. However, mindful of her promise only to be held, she
ignored the feeling and did nothing more to test his resolve.

After some time, she could feel Jon’s rapidly beating heart
even out to a steady beat, unsure if he was still awake she asked hesitantly.
“Jon?”

“Hmm?” He replied, voice heavy with sleep.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” His chuckle caused
pleasant vibrations to run the length of her body.

“I cannot see why not. We cannot get much closer than we
already are.”

While Miranda could not see his face, she could picture the
smile on it. “What happened with you and Sofia? Paul told me that you left
after betraying her.” Miranda could again feel the sudden inhale of breath, but
this time it was not the result of her body’s actions. “It’s just I think I
know you. I don’t believe you could do such a thing. So why does everybody else
think you did?”

For a long time Jon was silent and Miranda worried that Jon
had fallen asleep, when suddenly he replied. “Close your eyes, Miranda.”

Miranda cursed, thinking that he had denied her request,
when he abruptly continued. “Close your eyes, and listen.” As in a quiet voice,
pitched so low it seemed that he was whispering to her only, he added. “You see
I did betray her, which is why I have never denied those accusations. But I did
not betray her in the way that most people assume. For what I did was far
worse. I made her believe I never loved her.”

Five Years Previously,

Planet Eden, Eden Prime System

The signing of the Confederation Charter was one of the
greatest political acts in over five hundred years, ever since the Rim Worlds
swore fealty to Edward Aurelius and the Imperium officially came into
existence. Every notable politician insisted on being present and used his or
her full allocation of speaking time. After two days of listening to pompous
windbags, repeating the same platitudes over and over again, Commander Jonathan
Radec was ready to kill somebody.

Fortunately few politicians wanted to waste their precious
time speaking to an unassuming and unimportant Commander in the Imperial Fleet.
Hence he was mostly ignored and could frequently slip away, unnoticed.

The sole exception was Senator Rione of the Callas Republic,
who seemed intent on seeking him out to verbally abuse him for the unprovoked
attack on her son, almost six months before. Fortunately on those occasions
Sofia intervened and came to his rescue, running interference and allowed him
to escape
—luckily unscathed
.

Instead, Jon used the copious amount of free time at his
disposal to keep a close eye on the various Fleet Admirals. For the first time
in living memory all eleven were gathered in the same location for the historic
signing. In total there should have been twelve, but nobody had thought to
invite Admiral Harkov (although Jon secretly suspected a number of senators
were quietly toasting him in thanks for removing the hated Emperor).

Jon found it ironic that while most of the politicians
snubbed him as unimportant, the Fleet Admirals watched him like a rattlesnake
that might strike at any moment. This was probably related to the fact Jon had
threatened more than one of them over the past few months, to ensure each of
them swore fealty to Sofia. The alternative was to be removed and replaced with
somebody more easily manipulated. Hence Jon kept his sword close and the
Admirals closer, following the old adage of keeping your friends close, but
your enemies closer.

All in all it was a very tense time for the fleet, to which
all the politicians were completely oblivious. Jon felt a sigh of relief when
it finally came to the signing of the charter. Although he did wonder how many
of the politicians had actually read the full manuscript and not just skimmed
over the rest of the charter after the part that confirmed all political and
military authority would be transferred to them.

Sofia was the first to rise to sign the impressive document.
It was of course paper and the signatures were in ink. Electronic documents
were far too easy to alter and forge at a later date, but a physical charter
like this had weight. With a flourish Sofia inscribed her signature, to great
applause from the entire Senate. However, Jon felt a warm glow when he noticed
it was his face she first sought out amongst the crowd, as if it was only his
approval she cared about. Jon gave her a warm smile that was for her alone and
she broke from his gaze, although Jon was pleased to see her cheeks change to a
light pink colour before she looked away.

Following Sofia, each of the Fleet Admirals stood to add his
or her signature to the document, permanently and irrevocably transferring
authority of the Imperial Navy to the Confederation Senate. Internally Jon
winced that the real force behind the Empire was being passed to a group of squabbling
politicians. Jon was sure Sofia’s great, great, great grandfather Edward
Aurelius was turning in his grave.

Last of all to sign were the Confederation Senators, two
hundred and eighty in all. It took a long time to work through them all,
especially as each insisted on a flourish as he or she signed the charter. By
the time everybody had signed, it was getting late into the night and Jon was
thankful everything was finished.

However, the silence was interrupted when the voice of the
herald called out. “Commander Jonathan Radec, Praetorian Commander, personal
representative of the late Emperor, his excellency Marcus Aurelius.”

Jon froze in shock, unable to believe his ears. Meanwhile
all eyes in the Senate turned to face him, many in stunned disbelief, having
dismissed the young fleet Commander days before. In a daze Jon approached the
charter, still glistening from the fresh signatures that adorned it. Jon
wordlessly accepted the pen from the herald as he was shown where to sign at
the bottom of the document.

As the personal representative of the Emperor, Jon had of
course signed documents in his stead before. After all, the Imperium was huge
and the Emperor could not be expected to be everywhere at once, but to sign
this?

Looking up from the imposing document, staring out at the
multitude of faces, Jon had his doubts. He had spent almost five years at the
right hand of the Emperor and in that time he had listened to his hopes, as
well as his fears, along with his dreams and visions for the future. With the
possible exception of Sofia, Jon doubted there was anybody else alive in the
Imperium who knew him better. Looking down at this document Jon knew with
absolute certainty Marcus would never have wanted this.

To hand over power, the very mandate of heaven, to a bunch
of short-sighted, bickering bureaucrats who could not agree on anything or see
beyond their own personal greed? How could he possibly trust these politicians
to do what was best in the long term for the entire Empire? Jon’s instincts,
his very being, screamed at him to tear this document to shreds. To turn on the
Fleet Admirals, who had spent the past week schmoozing with the politicians and
order them back to their respective ships, to get back to their job of
protecting the Empire, its interests and its citizens.

A cough from the herald behind him interrupted his thoughts.
Finally Jon’s gaze came to rest on one person, frankly the only person whose
opinion he valued. For looking into Sofia’s concerned gaze, Jon wavered.
Standing there, on the precipice of history, Jon had an epiphany. Staring
deeply into her eyes, Jon realised that he loved Sofia with every inch of his
being and if this is what she asked of him, he would do it, gladly.

Jon leaned forward and scribbled his signature at the bottom
of the document.

With a round of applause and a lot of backslapping in
self-congratulation, Jon sought out the only person he cared for. Finally
reaching her side, recognising the weariness in her expression, Jon offered her
his arm and motioned towards the exit. Nodding her head in consent, they made
their way together, hand-in-hand towards the exit.

“You know,” Sofia mused softly. “For a moment there I
thought you weren't going to sign it.”

Jon was silent for a moment, before replying equally softly.
“You know, for a moment there, neither was I.”

*****

In the six weeks the Confederation had been in existence,
Jon’s opinion of it had sunk to a new, all-time low. Standing in the shadows of
yet another congratulatory party, Jon watched Sofia from a distance. She
effortlessly circulated around the room, seemingly in her element, knowing
everybody by name, sharing a few words here, a smile there.

Jon had brought up the topic with Sofia, in one of the
increasing few evenings they had shared together, before she had to depart for
some official engagement or another.

“It’s just natural,” she had replied. Dismissing his
concerns with a laugh. “The Confederation is still young and there needs to be
a period of adjustment. Everybody needs to socialise, make acquaintances, build
political alliances, network, this is how the game is played.”

Jon had kept silent, but in his opinion governing billions
of people, ensuring their safety, protection and well-being was not a game. But
then Sofia had grown up with her father, the Emperor, surrounded by every
luxury imaginable. She had never had to go hungry to pay the medical bills when
somebody in the family fell ill. She never had to run errands, through the
slums of Altair, just to save enough credits for a new shirt. She never had to
watch a sister waste away as the family could not afford the widely available
but expensive treatment.

So instead Jon continued to watch from the shadows with
growing discontent, as the Senate continued to party on, caring little for the
average citizen’s woes and misery.

“Pardon me, Commander Radec?” A deep voice interrupted him,
as his eyes lingered on Sofia. Turning to face the unwanted intrusion with a
cool gaze, he observed a short man, richly attired, with greying hair and an
expanding waist-line. He had seen the man around before but struggled to
remember his name.

“Senator?”

“Malthus. I hope I am not interrupting?” He asked, following
Jon’s gaze to Sofia’s back, as she laughed at something one of the senators she
was in conversation with said.

Jon just continued to look past the Senator with a cool,
distant gaze. In the past this was enough to discourage them, but in this
instance the opposite seemed to occur as the Senator laughed out loud.

“You know, you remind me so much of Marcus when he was
younger.”

Caught somewhat off guard, Jon inquired. “You knew the
Emperor?”

“Way back when Marcus was younger, soon after the death of
his father. I suppose you would call us political enemies, but after so many
years trying to out-manoeuvre the other, I guess it made us almost friends. You
remind me of him, you know? He used to ignore me, like you, when I was busy
interrupting him. Would you care to walk with me for a while? It would be good
to reminisce over old times. I think I must be one of the few that miss the old
boy.”

Jon hesitated, he turned back to Sofia, who was deep in a
conversation with another Senator. As if she could feel his gaze on her back,
she turned to face him, her eyes darting to the Senator standing next to him.
Understanding the question in her eyes, Jon made a snap decision that he could
not rely upon Sofia forever to extricate him from these situations, and
therefore subtly shook his head. As Sofia turned back to the conversation, Jon
took a step out of the room, Senator Malthus following closely behind him.

“The Princess will be fine,” Malthus reassured him
confidently, obviously misunderstanding the earlier silent communication
between the two. “She is in her element back there, Marcus would have been
proud of her.”

Jon remained silent.

“She is a fine woman, just like her mother was, may the
Maker accept her soul. You know I hoped the Emperor might look favourably on
the Princess joining with my family. Did he ever mention anything to you about
it?” Malthus asked, eyes glittering like diamonds.

Jon was so taken aback by the question he stopped
mid-stride, staring at the aging Senator in disbelief.

“Not me of course,” Malthus replied, with a hollow laugh. “I
have a son, about your age. We are a powerful family, going back many generations.
I thought for a while it might be a good match.”

Jon just continued to scowl at the Senator. The thought of
anybody touching Sofia, making her smile like he did, set his blood boiling.
“He didn’t mention anything to me about it,” Jon snapped, dismissing the
question out of hand.

“I’m not surprised,” Malthus replied, with a steely glint in
his eye. “After all, why would he need to when he had you?”

“I’m not following,” Jon replied, confused.

“Oh you are just being modest,” Malthus laughed. “A handsome
young fleet officer like yourself. Totally loyal to Marcus, constantly at his
side
—
constantly at her side,” he added suggestively.

“I was head of the Praetorian Guard,” Jon replied
dismissively. “It was my job to personally oversee their security, of course I
was continually at their side.”

“I remember your predecessor, Gideon. I never remembered him
dining with the Imperial family. I never remember him dancing with Marcus’
daughter, kissing her…”

For a moment, Jon had thought that the Senator was referring
to their dance on Altair, that he and Sofia had once shared, before realising
that he was referring to earlier events, before the Emperor’s death.

However, the Senator still had not finished. “Well I am very
happy for you both. I am sure Marcus would be too, if he was still alive today.
Glad that all his planning eventually paid off. I wanted to pass my
congratulations on to you both.”

With a polite nod of his head, Senator Malthus continued
down the corridor. With his back to Jon, the Commander could not see the cold
smirk of triumph on the Senator’s face.

Jon meanwhile was so stunned he was rooted to the spot,
standing motionless in the middle of the corridor. His first instinct was to
disregard everything the Senator had just said as pure fantasy, it was all so
ludicrous. He was the Praetorian Commander and it was his duty was to protect
the Imperial family, nothing more. The idea there was some far-reaching
conspiracy by Marcus, to arrange Sofia’s marriage to him and therefore to
coronate him the next Emperor, was just beyond belief.

Yet…

Marcus had constantly questioned him about Sofia and his
feelings towards her. Meanwhile Jon had constantly found himself spending more
time with her, alone. At the time he had just dismissed it as a father’s concern
for his daughter. Suddenly Jon remembered the last conversation he had with
Elsie, second-in-command of the Praetorian Guard soon after their departure
from the
Imperial Star.
For
she had inquired,

“Will you be returning with the squadron or remaining on
Eden Prime with the Princess?”

At the time it had struck Jon as a strange question to ask,
yet now he wondered if maybe Elsie had seen something he had missed. Perhaps
instead what she had been asking was if he was going to remain with the
Praetorian Guards or with Sofia. As what? Guardian? Boyfriend? Consort?
Husband?