Pax Imperia (The Redemption Trilogy) (49 page)

“He was shot, twice, by one of my security forces,” Robert answered, taking personal responsibility for what happened, as none of it was Miranda’s fault. “He was critically injured, having lost a lot of blood before his identity could be confirmed.” Robert swallowed, before continuing on. “He’s been in emergency surgery for the past couple of hours, with my personal physician overseeing his treatment. He is receiving the best care that we can offer, but—” he trailed off, looking away, not needing to finish the sentence, the bleak tone of his voice easy conveying the final part of the message.

Jon froze, every muscle in his body tensing like a coiled spring, as he processed the words. While he had been with Sofia, Jason had been dying. Alone, on some god-forsaken planet in the middle of nowhere, sacrificing his own life to let him know that she still lived.

Jon did not even consciously draw his sword. He just blinked and suddenly it was there, in his hand, as he strode mercilessly towards Robert Calis. Jason’s life was worth ten, a hundred of his, and by the Great Maker he would make him pay for what he had done. He would pay with his life, as this time there would be nobody to save him.

*****

Robert Calis looked up, although Jon Radec had not made a sound. He wished that he had not, as, for the second time in his life, when faced by this man he saw his own death staring back at him. The man’s sword was suddenly in his hand. The same sword that had kept Robert awake for months upon end, the nightmares so realistic he could still feel that blade sliding between his ribs.

It was a repeat of that nightmare all over again. Jon Radec standing over him, sword in hand, death in his eyes, and Robert was once again powerless to stop him. Just like last time, nobody was going to intervene. Nobody was going to come to his rescue. With a final glance, he saw the blade descending towards him in a killing stroke before he closed his eyes for the last time, expecting to never open them again.

When nothing happened, he blinked. Opening his eyes, he took in the incredible scene before him, for the blade did rest inches from a neck—but not his. Unlike the last time, someone did intervene, as Miranda had stepped in front of him, in the process saving his life. From the wild expression on Jon Radec’s face, all she had done was to delay the inevitable.

“No,” Miranda uttered the single word, but it seemed to ripple out, becoming an immovable barrier, just like her, as she shielded Robert from the deadly blade. “There is to be no more killing, not today. Put it away Jon,” she commanded, for the first time she could ever remember, issuing him an order. As, from the very first day that they had met, she had been constantly in awe of him. So much so she could never possibly imagine crossing him, or not automatically following one of his instructions. Yet here she found herself, facing the first man she had truly loved, refusing to back down.

“Get out of my way Miranda. This doesn’t concern you. This is between Robert Calis and I. If I had done what my instinct told me and killed him the first time, then Jason might still be alive today. I’ll not make the same mistake twice. Now get out of my way,” he roared.

“No,” Miranda repeated, with even firmer conviction, amazed that she could find the strength inside her to defy him. “I won’t let you do it. You kill him, you will have to get past me first.” She drew the pistol at her side, as if to reinforce the point.

Jon simply ignored her, looking instead into Robert Calis’s eyes. “For Jason is merely the latest in a long line of people that have died because of you. Isn’t he?” Jon insisted, as suddenly all the pieces fell into place. “For it was you that sent me the warning about the attack on Eden Prime. Yet it was your own stubborn pride that insisted you send the message via a third party—a message that arrived too late. It was your arrogance that condemned every man, woman and child that died on Eden Prime that day. Including Sofia’s father.” Jon’s eyes flicked to his wife for a moment, holding her gaze before she looked away. “A man that I loved, whom I also called father. Yet they were just the first in a long, long line. Captain Harrison, a brave courageous officer, who killed himself for what he had been forced to watch and do, all because of you. His wife, kidnapped, tortured and murdered, because of you. Their daughter, a beautiful little girl, with blue eyes and bright blond hair, who will now never know her parents, because of you. I can go on and on, all the innocent people who died on Capella because of my orders to open fire. Admiral Anastasia Romanov, who took her own life to save herself from ruin, even as she refused to take mine.”

A cold wind descended down upon the group, as if by evoking the names of those recently deceased, Jon had personally summoned them from the underworld to bear witness to the man’s crimes.

“It is for all those who have already died, and the thousands, possibly tens of thousands that will still die, all because of your stubborn arrogant pride, that you will pay the ultimate price. You will stand in judgement before the Great Maker and he will weigh your sins against you,” Jon insisted, in a deathly cold tone of voice.

Looking up into his dark eyes, almost black in their intensity, Miranda realised it was futile. For Jon no longer stood before her but, instead, it was that other man. The one she had observed in his darkened quarters on
Terra Nova
several months before. Who had witnessed such terrible events, and inflicted equally horrific ones. That other Jon, who demonstrated no mercy or compassion, but was instead an immovable force of nature, one who callously decreed who lived or died. She could not reach past him, to the man that she still knew resided within. As for her gesture of placing herself before Robert, she knew that was what it was—just a futile gesture. She had seen this man before in battle; no person, living or dead, could stand before him as his equal. He was terrifying in his speed and ferocity. She knew from having watched as he had effortlessly slaughtered a dozen Syndicate enforcers, elite troops. There was nothing she could do that would save Robert’s life—but maybe one other could.

Looking past Jon, her gaze came to rest on Sofia, who had been frozen in place, watching proceedings, but seemingly unsure how to respond. Miranda had never asked anything of this other woman, even though she had sacrificed so much for her—love, her future, her happiness—but she asked something of her now. As their gazes met across the room, Miranda beseeched her, silently pleading with her to help, for she knew Sofia understood how much she had sacrificed for them.

“Jon wait,” Sofia’s voice echoed around the room. Her voice seemed to penetrate even his consciousness, though he was lost deep in the past, surrounded by so much death. He jerked his head up, looking at her in shock—and betrayal.

Using his hesitation, she stepped forward, placing herself in front of him and his blade, the two of them, Miranda and Sofia, standing shoulder to shoulder, forming an impenetrable barrier between him and Robert Calis.

“It was because of his actions, his concern for me, that I was saved. If not for him, I truly would be dead and we could never be together. For that, and our future happiness together, I beg of you to spare his life. You should know, better than anybody else, the mistakes we have made in our lives. Terrible mistakes for which others have had to pay the ultimate price. Just like you, Robert might wish to go back, to correct those mistakes, but he cannot. Instead he must live with them, and move on, just as you have done,” Sofia pleaded with her husband.

Jon took a step back in disbelief, stunned by her disloyalty. He was unable to believe what he was hearing, for Sofia knew him so well, in many ways better than himself, and to hear her throw his own fears and inadequacies back in his face, to defend this—boy! His face darkened with anger, as he observed the two women in his life, standing united against him. Neither of them truly understood what it was like. They had not been surrounded by the death and destruction like he had been. They had not heard the wailing of the dead and dying. They had not been forced to watch as good people, men and women died needlessly.

“I have sacrificed everything for you,” Jon whispered furiously, wanting her to feel some of the hurt that he had been forced to endure. “I have fought for you and your father, bled for you and died for you. Never once did I ask for anything in return, as I never needed to, as I already had your trust, and love. Even as I held
your
son in my arms, as I protected
your
son from harm. While you were here, playing happy families with this pretty boy.”

Jon spat the words at Robert Calis, purposefully ignoring Sofia’s face, which had gone a deathly white. “Even knowing that you had betrayed me with somebody else, knowing that you had borne someone else’s son, I was prepared to raise him as my own—because he was part of you. Why? As I thought at least I had your love, if not your trust. Did we not swear an oath in front of all others, that we would love and honour each other? Well I see very little of either from you. How can you love and honour me when you cannot even be faithful to me?”

Sofia looked at Jon in utter horror. She couldn't breathe and, once the complete shock started to subside and the reality of his words started to sink in, she felt blood rush to her face and panic overtook her. He knew. Jon knew. He knew that she had a son—and had never told him. Her legs suddenly became too weak to support her and she would have fallen had a strong arm not reached out and caught hold of her in time. However, she ignored it, as she was desperately trying to get her mind to work, to make sense of it all. What exactly did he know? How did he know? Maybe he didn't even know the truth. He couldn't know. Sofia refused to believe it was possible, as Jon continued on unrelentingly.

“Stay here then. I am sure that the three of you will be happy together,” he raged, his heart splintering further, as instead of denying the accusations he instead observed her leaning on Robert Calis for support. “When you come and ask me for
your
son I will even deliver him safely to you. For while you remain here, it will be
me
that is out there fighting for everything that your father and his father stood for. It will be me defending the Confederation, a Confederation that
you
wanted, but a people that you so quickly abandoned. Well they’re out there right this very moment, dying. I hear their screams at night, crying out for revenge, and it is a vengeance that I have promised them. So you stay here in your own little world, completely detached from reality, while I go and find Malthus and, when I do, hell will hold no fear for him, as it is nothing compared to what I am going to do to him.”

With that Jon turned his back on the three of them, stalking off down the corridor, his escort falling into a close formation around him, to take him back to his shuttle, his flagship, his fleet, his Empire.

Alone.

*****

“Jon wait,” a voice called out after him, echoing down the corridor. Unfortunately it did not belong to the one person who he desperately wanted to hear from. To take him into her arms and reassure him that it was all just a terrible mistake, a misunderstanding.

A hand reached across his shoulder forcing him to stop. He gave a quick shake of his head, as the marines moved to impose themselves between them, he motioned them away a short distance, so he could talk to Miranda in private.

“Is it true?” she demanded. “That Sofia has a son and she didn’t tell you?”

Jon just nodded his head, his throat too raw with emotion to even choke out an acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” she replied with a frown. “I can’t think why she didn’t tell you—” her voice trailed off, her eyes widening in shock, when she realised just why Sofia wouldn’t have told him, if it were not his son. “I’m sorry,” she repeated in a quiet voice.

“I’m used to people in my life disappointing me,” Jon sighed, leaning back against the wall, letting it support his weight as he closed his eyes. “However of all the people I know, I thought that Sofia was different. I honestly believed that she truly loved me. That is what hurts the most.”

“Whatever happens I’ll still be here. I know how much it means to have your trust and loyalty. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Thanks,” Jon replied. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that right now.” Opening his eyes, he stared into her dark brown ones, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes, which had fallen across her face. Miranda found herself instinctively leaning into the caress, and before he knew what he was doing he bridged the gap between the two of them, kissing her gently on the lips.

As he looked up he observed Robert Calis and Sofia, the pair observing the two of them together, in shock.

“Commander Radec,” Robert said. “I am sorry about Jason, truly I am. I know that there is nothing that I can do to change the past, but perhaps there is a way that I can make up for my mistakes. For I know where Senator Malthus is, as he called me a few weeks ago, he foolishly forgot to hide the source of his transmission. I know where he is hiding.”

Jon froze, glancing between Robert and Sofia, observing his arm around her and how she seemed to lean into his embrace. “What is this information going to cost me?” he demanded hoarsely.

“No cost. I give it to you freely to demonstrate my intent, for I am not your enemy. Senator Malthus is hiding in plain sight. He’s on-board the
Invincible
, flagship of the 4
^th
Confederation fleet.”

“
Alexeyev
,” Jon hissed, between clenched teeth. He had warned the wayward Admiral the consequences if he ever found proof of his betrayal—death by his own hand. Now that he had all the proof he needed, the Admiral’s life was forfeit.

Chapter Sixteen

The Invincible, Flagship 4
^th
Confederation Fleet, Betelgeuse System

Admiral Timothy Alexeyev walked down the corridors of the
Invincible
, his flagship and home for the past few years, however it no longer felt like it. Instead it made him feel claustrophobic, uneasy, constantly looking over his shoulder. Every day brought in an influx of new faces, people he didn’t know, and trusted even less. He began to feel a certain kinship with the late Emperor, Marcus Aurelius, wondering if this was how he felt in his final days aboard his flagship, the
Imperial Star
.