Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy)

BOOK: Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy)
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Pax Imperia

Book Three of The Redemption Trilogy

 

By Mike Smith

 

 

 

Copyright © 2014 Mike Smith

 

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

 

All rights reserved.

 

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

 

Cover image copyright ©
2014
AiTuDou

 

 

 

In dedication to all those who selflessly place themselves in harm, day after day, to keep the rest of us safe. Those nameless heroes, who pull the rest of us back from the brink of the abyss, then do it again the next day and the next.

 

“The true measure of a hero is when a man lays down his life with the knowledge that those he saves... will never know.”

- Anon.

 

 

Special thanks to my editor, Anya, and my proofreader Mirella, for all your help and support.  I could never have finished this without you.

 

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Author’s Note

 

Prologue

 

Present Day

Planet Eden Prime, Eden System

 

The star at the heart of the Eden System shone brightly. Its light spread throughout the System, banishing the darkness. For the star was the source of all life in the System. Without it everything would wither and die in the dark and cold.

Alone.

Just like all living creatures, the star breathed. Its hot corona continually expanded and contracted, creating the solar wind, a stream of charged particles blown off the surface of the star and extending all the way to the Heliopause, almost fifteen trillion kilometres distant. The star was massive, with a diameter of about one and a half million kilometres, and had a surface temperature in excess of five thousand degrees Celsius. It was by far the largest object in the Eden System, comprising ninety-nine per cent of the system’s mass.

The planet Eden Prime by comparison was barely a pinprick in size. The light from the star took almost ten minutes to travel the distance to the planet. However, in comparison to the star’s swirling maelstrom of hot plasma and magnetic fields, the surface of Eden Prime was green and tranquil. With the distant star beginning to climb above the horizon, only just starting its trek towards the zenith of the day, Eden Prime’s sky was azure-blue and clear.

A perfect day for a wedding.

However, this was no ordinary wedding, as the pastor would be the first to testify. After all, it was the first wedding he had attended where he had been politely but firmly frisked for weapons prior to being permitted entry. He had enquired, with some trepidation, of the Marine who was currently thoroughly searching him, if they were expecting any trouble.

“Not at all, pastor. We are just taking precautions. We already have a company of marines guarding the perimeter and the fleet is enforcing a no-fly zone over the Senate.” The Marine pointed into the sky, where the pastor could observe the contrails left by fighters circling high overhead. “And,” the young man continued on in an unconcerned voice, “The 12
th
Fleet are in orbit, ready to intercept any approaching ships. We’ve got everything covered. Have a nice day.”

Following the wide, meandering path, the pastor observed the bright sunlight streaming through the overhead branches. A mild breeze, heavy with the scent of summer flowers and newly cut grass, stirred the leaves in the trees making them waft backwards and forwards. He saw trees, lakes and, in the hazy distance, a marsh with glimpses of a silvery, fast-flowing river. He heard couples laughing, as he passed by and, overhead, a songbird trilled from a nearby tree.

Staring around, wide-eyed in astonishment, at the landscape, he wondered why he did not spend more time in the Senate Park. He could not remember the last time he felt as close to the Great Maker as he did with all this life and beauty surrounding him.

The pastor continued on towards the front of the congregation and, upon arriving, he took a moment to stare out at the unusual spectacle facing him. For instead of the riot of colours and styles usually present at such a wedding, the congregation was a sea of black and white, interspersed with the occasional man or woman not wearing a uniform. One example was the elderly couple seated in the front row, behind the groom. The groom’s parents, the pastor assumed. Standing a little off to one side and behind the bride was an imposing man with grey hair and dark-green eyes, also dressed in an immaculate white uniform. He was tapping his foot irritably, obviously impatient for proceedings to get underway. There was no doubt as to the identity of this man. After all, his face must be the most instantly recognisable in the Confederation, and as the Pastor had no desire to get on the wrong side of Marcus Aurelius, the bride’s father, he quickly commenced proceedings.

“My friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of committed marital love, and to add our best wishes to the words which shall unite Commander Jonathan Radec and Sofia Aurelius—”


Princess
Sofia Aurelius,” an indignant voice interrupted the pastor. “I didn’t spend thirty years being the Imperial Emperor for my daughter to married off like some common—”

“Father. Hush,” the bride interrupted serenely, with lips upturned in a slight smile. The only response was a huff from over her shoulder.

“Princess Sofia Aurelius.” The pastor concluded without missing a beat. Turning to the groom, the pastor enquired, “Commander Jonathan Radec, do you take
Princess
Sofia Aurelius for your lawful wedded wife, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honour, comfort and cherish her from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Turning this time to the bride, the pastor repeated the question. “Princess Sofia Aurelius, do you take Commander Jonathan Radec for your lawful wedded husband, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honour, comfort and cherish him from this day forward, forsaking all others, keeping only unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

“With all my heart.”

Purposefully ignoring the break in tradition, the pastor turned back to the Commander and nodded for him to repeat the marriage vows.

“I, Commander Jonathan Radec take thee Sofia Aurelius,” he started, not missing for an instant the twitch of amusement on his wife-to-be’s lips and the even louder sigh coming from behind her. “To be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honour and cherish, ’til death do us part.”

The pastor then turned to the Princess, motioning for her to proceed.

“I, Sofia Aurelius take thee Jonathan Radec to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honour, and…” Sofia paused for a second, before concluding, “’til death do us part.”

Jon had to try hard to suppress his laughter; it would be a cold day in hell before Sofia ever agreed to
obey
anyone
.

The pastor had to supress a sigh of his own, as it seemed obvious this couple were not beyond more than a little improvisation. Hoping to hurry proceedings along, he turned back to the groom, enquiring, “You have the ring?”

“Ring?” The Commander seemed surprised by the question. “No, I don’t have the ring.”

“Your best man, then, perhaps?” The pastor turned hopefully to the blond man, splendid in his white navy uniform, with the rank of Captain clearly visible on his lapel, standing beside the Commander.

All eyes turned on him expectantly.

“What is everybody looking at me for? I don’t have the ring. Nobody said anything to me about a ring,” Paul exclaimed loudly, and not a little defensively.

“Jon,” Sofia uttered, not even glancing at him, the serene expression not slipping from her face for an instant. “You have one minute to find a ring before I order somebody to run you through with their sword. If you have not already noticed, there are many here for me to choose from.”

“Pardon me for just one minute, pastor?” Jon apologised. The pastor rolled his eyes before nodding in agreement. Jon turned around to face Sofia, taking a step forward, deliberately encroaching into her personal space. Noticing the suspicious look on Sofia’s face, he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. “Close your eyes for one minute, love.”

“If you are going to embarrass me in front of my father?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jon breathed into her ear, noticing how she trembled slightly as his warm breath caressed her cheek. As her eyes fluttered closed, Jon took advantage of the opportunity to kiss her lovingly on the cheek, ignoring the snort of indignation coming from the direction of the pastor.

Gently lifting her chin with a deft flick of his finger, Jon observed the delicate chain encircling her neck and the plain gold wedding ring threaded through it. Jon cupped his palm and let the ring lie within his hand, observing the way it sparkled in the early morning sunlight. Lifting his gaze, he stared at Sofia, who had opened her eyes and was staring back at him with such a look of yearning, tears had pooled in the corners of her eyes.

Jon just took a moment to stare unabashedly at her, to admire how the simple, sleeveless, ivory silk bridal gown accentuated her stunning figure. How her unblemished, pearly-white skin was offset by a single curl of her red hair, which had somehow managed to escape from her pinned–up hair style. Most of all, Jon just thanked whichever deity was listening the fateful day, several weeks earlier, when that terrifying shot rang through the Senate and, for a single, heart-stopping moment, Jon thought he had lost everything.

*****

Jon was already moving before the echo of the shot had even faded, but he already knew he was too late. Both Sofia and Marcus were already on the floor, with Marcus shielding his daughter with his own body. Jon did not even hesitate, throwing himself over the couple, tensing himself for another shot and the impact of a bullet tearing through his flesh. He was surprised by the overwhelming silence in the room.

After a moment, it seemed that time resumed and Jon could hear shouts being called out by the marines as they spread out looking for the shooter. A few minutes later the all clear sounded and, with dread in his heart, Jon rose to his feet and gently rolled Marcus over. Checking him for any entrance or exit wounds, he was relieved to find the man uninjured. Eyes flickering open, Marcus focused on Jon with a surprised expression. Like Jon, he had feared the worst.

“Sofia?” Jon uttered in terror, quickly pushing her father aside. Running his hands all across her body, looking for any signs of injury, Jon was horrified as he held up his hands, stained red with her blood.

“Jon?” She inquired weakly, eyes flickering open to stare into his frightened gaze. “Are you okay? My father?”

“We’re both fine,” he hurriedly reassured her. “You're also going to be fine. Now just stay with me and try to stay awake,” Jon added desperately, finally finding the entry wound on the side of her abdomen and keeping pressure on the wound. Even then he could feel the blood oozing out in rivulets between his fingers. Looking back up at her pale, white face, he noticed, with growing fear, her eyes had slipped closed again. He desperately tried to find a pulse, was only slightly relieved when he had managed to do so, even though it was thready and weak. “Medic!” He screamed hoarsely.

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