The Sunfire (35 page)

“You are out of shape, Commander,” Sejanus laughed. “Marcus
would have been better off with me as his successor. I am by far the better
swordsman.”

Jon just grunted, catching Sejanus’ blade against his, as
Sejanus continued to increase pressure, pushing his blade closer and closer to
Jon’s face. Jon could feel a bead of sweat running down his forehead as the
blade moved ever closer...

With a sharp twist of his wrist he deflected Sejanus’ sword,
sending the blade careening into a table, taking a good slice out of it. Using
the distraction, Jon slipped behind Sejanus, hammering an elbow into the side
of the man’s ribs at the same time. But Sejanus quickly recovered his sword,
the blow to his ribs seemed only to enrage him further rather than slowing him
down.

“You should take care Commander. I was the only Praetorian
who ever came close to beating Gideon with the blade, and Gideon is no longer
alive,” Sejanus gloated, swinging his sword in wide arcs that caused Jon to
dart backwards, just out of reach.

“I’m sure that Gideon would have enjoyed nothing better than
to be here, to disembowel you in person. However, in his absence I will be
happy to oblige,” Jon insisted.

“You are but a pale imitation of him, Commander. I am surprised
Gideon ever handed over leadership of the Praetorians to you.”

“Who ever said Gideon handed anything to me?” Jon replied.
“I took the mantle of leadership from his cold dead body.”

For the first time during the duel, a hint of doubt crept
across Sejanus’ expression. “That's not possible,” he muttered. “Nobody ever
defeated Gideon with a blade.”

“Nobody had ever defeated him, before me,” Jon corrected
him. Seeing a gap in his defences, he struck out with a vicious thrust a
panicked Sejanus desperately managed to parry at the very last moment.

“You’re lying,” Sejanus shouted. “Nobody could ever beat
Gideon, he was too strong.” With a cry that was part anger and part fear he
leapt towards Jon with a brutal overhead chop. Jon managed to bring his own
sword up just in time, but still the jarring force of the blow drove him to his
knees. Sejanus continued to push down with all his might and Jon could feel his
own muscles begin to tremble and falter, as he observed the sharp edge of the
sword close to his face.

“I defeated him just as I will you,” Jon replied. “Only the
strongest Praetorian leads. Gideon was a great leader, but I was better. I was
not faster than him, nor was I as strong as him, but I had something that he
lacked.”

“What?” Sejanus demanded.

Closing his eyes, Jon reached down inside of himself, to
that little piece of his soul where he harboured his feelings for Sofia. For as
long as he could remember, whenever the situation seemed impossible or
hopeless, he had drawn on her strength.

He could still remember the very first time, in a situation
similar to this one, when he was
exhausted and
on his
knees. All of the Praetorians were staring at him impassively as he had fought
Gideon with every inch of his being, using every trick he possessed, every last
reserve he had, until he had nothing left.

Yet it had not been enough.

Gideon was faster than him, stronger than him. Every blow he
had struck, Gideon had anticipated and countered it. It was useless. He could
not defeat him.

The knowledge he was about to die did not frighten him. He
had stared at death too many times before, lost too much, too many friends to
really care. Sometimes he even thought that he welcomed it. No more fighting,
no more struggling, and no more pain. Yet, for the first time ever Jon also
felt something else
—
regret.

Using the last reserves of his strength Jon raised his head,
looking past Gideon, past the surrounding Praetorians, past even the Emperor
himself, to the young woman with flaming red hair and deep emerald-green eyes,
kneeling beside her father. The woman who was currently staring at him with a
look of dread.

The first time Jon had ever seen the Princess he could not
trust his eyes, as he did not believe anyone so beautiful could possibly exist.
Since then he had spent a little time in her company and had become enamoured
by her clever wit, charming personality and a smile that could brighten a whole
room. Occasionally she had touched him, although Jon knew she shouldn’t, and it
had felt like molten fire, wrapped in silk. Jon had never been touched like
that before, by someone with such soft, delicate skin.

Looking at her now, Jon came to realise that given time he
could possibly even come to love her. To fill that gap in his heart that had
been present ever since fate had cruelly taken his sister from him. However,
time was something Jon knew had run out as he sensed Gideon behind him. Jon
could feel Gideon’s mighty blade being lifted up ready to cleave Jon’s head
from his body.

No!
He would not let it end like this. Not when he
was so close to finding something he had spent all of his life searching for.

Grasping the sword at his side Jon brought it up blocking
the sweeping blow that would have decapitated him. Jon looked up into Gideon’s
stunned expression and just for an instant Jon thought he had seen something
else lurking in the man’s eyes. Had that been pride in them?

Coming back to reality Jon staggered to his feet, and came
face-to-face with an astounded Sejanus.

“This ends now,” Jon insisted surely. “It’s time for Sofia
to be free from the shadow you have cast over her. For her to no longer look
into the dark, and wonder if you are hiding there.” With a heavy overhead blow
that staggered Sejanus, Jon took a step forward. With a cry that came from the
very heart of him, Jon swung the blade with an almighty roar, the blade glowing
brighter and brighter until it seemed almost incandescent.

Sejanus desperately lifted his own blade to ward off the
blow. With a bright flash, and a shower of sparks, Jon’s sword cut cleanly
through the other. Sejanus glanced down, dumfounded, to look at his own broken
sword and Jon’s sticking out of his chest. With nerveless fingers he dropped
what remained of his sword, falling to his knees. “But how?” He whispered.

Jon knelt down so that he could look Sejanus in the eyes. He
felt at least Sejanus deserved to know why he was dying. “Gideon told me the
secret, although at the time he did not realise it,” Jon explained. “For Gideon
told me I must fight with my head, not my heart. But I could never beat him
that way, as Gideon was always one step ahead of me. I could never beat him by
outthinking him. So I stopped trying. Instead of listening to my head I
listened to my heart. A person fighting with their head can do remarkable
things,” Jon explained softly. “But a person fighting with their heart?” Jon
looked down at Sejanus’s broken sword, a Valerian sword which was famed
throughout the galaxy for being unbreakable. “A person fighting with their
heart can achieve the miraculous. Goodbye Sejanus.”

With a kick of his boot Jon pushed Sejanus’s dead body from
his blade. With a final glance around the apartment that had imprisoned Marcus
for so long, Jon turned his back on the room.

It was time to go home.

*****

“Heads up. We have uninvited guests,” Jackson whispered
quietly to Jonas.

“How many?” He replied having just retaken his position
after delivering the Emperor to their medic.

“Looks like a dozen or so, a reinforcing squad.”

Jonas spared a quick glance around the corner, confirming
what Jackson told him. “Okay let’s wait for them to get a little closer.”

“You know, this reminds me of that time on Ophiuchi.”

“How so?”

“You know. Just you, me, and a couple of dozen of them,”
Jackson replied pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

“I seem to remember on Ophiuchi we were the ones trying to
capture the hangar bay, not the other way around,” Jonas frowned.

“Fair point. I only said it reminded me of it, not that it
was exactly the same. Ready?”

“Ready,” Jonas agreed.

Almost simultaneously the two marines swung around, bringing
their weapons to bear on the guards who were now only a few meters away.

Less experienced soldiers would probably have panicked and
opened fire soon after the guards first appeared. However, that would have been
disastrous, as the guards could have quickly fallen back, taken cover and then
returned fire. With only a few meters separating them, and no cover for the
guards offered by the long corridor, both marines opened fire. Aiming low,
their weapons on full automatic. The initial volley was devastating. While
protected by tactical armour, this did little to stop the heavy shells fired by
assault rifles, as the armour was designed to protect against energy weapons.
In any case the armour did not cover their legs. The first wave of guards did
not even get a chance to raise their weapons and fell to the automatic gunfire.
The second wave fared little better, stumbling over the bodies of the dead or
dying front rank. The bullets penetrated armour, flesh and bones
indiscriminately. Half of the guards were already down, dead or dying before
the remaining even had a chance to react. It was only then they recognised the
full horror of the choice facing them. Either to continue to advance the few
meters ahead, straight into the guns, or to fall back, to retreat down a
straight corridor, tens of meters in length.

With blank expressions, the two marines effortlessly
replaced empty clips with the ones at their side—the break in gunfire almost
imperceptible. The remaining guards wavered for an instant, then broke, running
back down the corridor. However, even then, the marines cut them down with
short bursts of accurate gunfire as any survivors would simply reinforce the
next wave of attackers.

Further down the corridor, lost in the dim light and smoke
came further screams of fear and pain. As the smoke parted Jon appeared with
sword in hand. Covered in blood, he proceeded down the corridor towards the
marines, slashing and thrusting at the retreating guards. He was relentless,
unforgiving and no guards made it to the other end of the corridor alive. All
of them were dead, slain either by the marines’ guns or Jon’s sword.

The corridor had become a killing ground.

“Commander,” Jonas called out in greeting. Lowering his
rifle upon recognising the Commander’s now blood-stained white uniform.

“Jonas, Jackson,” Jon greeted the two marines who seemed
little affected by the death and destruction he had just walked through. “Have
the Emperor and Sofia arrived?”

“Yes Commander,” Jonas replied. “They arrived several
minutes ago. It appears the Emperor had been wounded by a shot from a pulse
pistol. The medic is with him now.”

While Jon seemed perturbed by the news, he simply nodded his
head in understanding and stepped through the door into the hangar bay
ordering, “Continue to hold this position.”

*****

Stepping into the dimly lit hangar, Jon approached Gunny.
“Report Sergeant.”

“We’ve secured the hangar Commander. Miranda is already
securing and prepping us a suitable ship. The Princess and her father arrived
several minutes ago.” Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard he added in
a quiet voice. “The Emperor is in a bad way, we need to evacuate him to the
Sunfire
immediately.”

“Very well,” Jon acknowledged. “I’ll assist Miranda in
preparing a shuttle. Hold the entrance to the bay here until I signal you. Then
fall back to the ship and we will get the hell off this rock.” Gunny
acknowledged the order, stepping through the door to check on Jackson and
Jonas. Meanwhile Jon observed Marcus on the floor, off to one side, being
stabilised by the medic. Sofia was on her knees hovering over her father with a
worried expression. Crossing the room towards the pair, Sofia noticed his
approach and rose to meet him. Enfolding her in a tight embrace he kissed her
reassuringly on the crown of her head. “Stay here with your father,” Jon
ordered. “I’ll go and help Miranda procure a shuttle, then we can all leave.”

Sofia nodded her understanding, once again taking her place
at her father’s side, taking his cold hand in hers and whispering reassuring
words to him.

Jon went to look for Miranda, to try and find out what was
taking so long.

*****

“Ma’am.” Came the voice of one of the marines hurrying in
her direction.

Miranda had spent the past few minutes trying to decide on a
cramped assault shuttle that looked older than her, or a decrepit freighter
that would take them all easily but looked like it would fall apart long before
they made orbit. “What?” She asked in irritation, surely there was one
serviceable ship on this god-forsaken planet?

“It’s the Commander, ma’am.”

“What’s wrong with him?” She asked. Jon had hurriedly
approached her a few minutes earlier, urging her to make up her mind. He was
going to look in the back of the hangar where the ships in long-term storage
had been parked.

“There is something wrong with him. He is over at one of the
far shuttles, ignoring our calls and he keeps talking to it…” The marine added
nervously after a short pause.

“He’s doing
what
?” Miranda whirled around in
disbelief, wondering if Jon had finally suffered some sort of mental breakdown.

“I think you should come quickly ma’am. As when I left him
he had started to… fondle it.” The marine uttered with obvious distaste.

*****

Jon was motionless, standing in front of one of the ships as
she hurried to his side. He was running one of his hands across the flight
control surfaces, in wonder. Miranda was just about to demand what he was doing
when she looked up at the ship. Her jaw fell open in shock. “It’s not
possible,” she uttered in disbelief. “I saw that ship crash into the
Imperial
Star
, they are both gone.”