The Last Praetorian
Chapter Three

Present Day (Five Years later)

Terra Nova, Zeta Aquilae System

The stars shone brightly, with a pure, cleansing, white light that seemed to banish the dark and cold of the vastness of space. Sometimes Jon could close his eyes and almost feel the stars reaching out to him, bidding him to join them. With just one small step his worries could vanish, forever. If only he could reach out, if only for a brief moment, and to be able to grasp that light in the palm of his hands, to bring it into his body, to let the light cleanse him, maybe he could escape this reality.

Should a person be forgiven for mistakes made in the past? Jon mused to himself. Do I even deserve forgiveness?

A polite cough interrupted his reverie, reminding him he had a guest and that guest was still waiting for his answer. Jon sighed to himself, once again wishing that the light could reach out to him and take him back, back to when he had a purpose and a family.

Wrenching his thoughts back to the here and now, Jon turned his back to the stars he spent so much time lost in and viewed his guest. The Magistratus sitting across his desk had not moved in the intervening time. Long past his middling years—his grey hair was showing just a hint of white—he was leaning heavily on his cane. An ugly scar marred the right side of his face and the pronounced limp in his right leg was noticeable, as he had shuffled into the room.

I wonder what happened to you? I doubt that you got those falling out of bed one morning, Jon had thought to himself when the Magistratus from the ‘Chamber of Commerce, Business and Shipping’ had made his entrance a short while ago.

Observing the scarred man it occurred to Jon he embodied everything that was wrong since the collapse of the Empire. A figurehead for an organisation profiting from human misery. With the death of the Emperor, the Empire soon disintegrated, the once mighty Imperial Fleet disbanded, until it reached the point, this far out on the rim, the fleet had mostly abandoned this sector. As was often the case, when there was no strong rule of law it attracted a certain stain of humanity, ones with few morals or scruples.

Trying to keep the distaste from reaching his expression, and probably only succeeding slightly, he answered the question put to him. “I am sorry, but I must decline the offer, although I do agree it sounds extremely generous.” It was obvious from the surprised expression that flashed across his guests face, it was not the answer he had been expecting.

“Could I inquire why you have decided to reject the Chamber’s extremely generous offer?” Mallart asked in his silky-smooth tone of voice. The tone had been irritating Jon ever since the meeting had commenced. He had continually fought the urge to look over his shoulder to check the representative wasn’t trying to stick a knife in his back.

“Well,” Jon replied. “We could discuss the various growth potentials for the business, my loyal customer base, etc. but what it really comes down to is a cultural clash, I am afraid.”

“A cultural clash?” the representative replied in a bewildered tone. “What sort of cultural clash?”

“It mostly has to do with the differing ways we conduct business, really,” Jon explained. “For example, we believe in fair business negotiations, honest contracts and punctual delivery. We do not threaten to kill, enslave or otherwise kidnap our customers if they do not agree to our terms of business. We most certainly do not transport slaves, smuggle weaponry or any other contraband goods, and we most definitely don’t steal back the aforementioned goods if there is a greater potential for profit and then murder the client. As I mentioned, a culture clash I am afraid.”

Jon spoke concisely, with a straight face, not letting any of the malice he felt show. “Furthermore,” he went on. “I question how long I would actually live to be able to spend that very generous offer, seeing that I have heard, of the three previous companies you have acquired, two of the owners are now dead, with the third missing.”

Jon finally let a hint of malice into his tone. “Let’s be honest,” he continued. “The Chamber comprises the worst scum-sucking, murderous, thieving, raping bastards in this entire sector. You can take their offer back to them and shove it up their arses. And if one more of my ships are attacked, one more member of my crew hurt, there will be nowhere in this system or the next to hide from me. I will hunt you down, one-by-one, turn your ships into a pile of radioactive dust and cut you into so many pieces it would require a micro-singularity scanner to find a trace of you. Now get off my station!” Jon yelled. “Before I stick you in an airlock and blow you out of it myself.”

The Magistratus from the Chamber blinked once in surprise then with a resigned expression replied. “Well as you have decided to turn down the chamber’s generous offer it would seem there is nothing else that I can say. I doubt they will be coming back with another offer. Good day, Mr Radec.” With that he shuffled to the door, which slid open smoothly to permit his exit.

Jon confirmed that the door was fully closed before turning back to the stars once again. He would not have put it past the crafty old bastard to shoot him in the back to save his employers the effort of hiring somebody else to do it.

Jon pounded his desk in frustration, hard enough to dislodge the mountain of paperwork, sending it spilling across the floor. He was not bothered in the slightest at the thought of somebody else trying to kill him. They would have to get in line. Instead it was the knowledge his ships and people would be at additional risk. And why? Because he was a stubborn fool who had always refused to back down in the face of threats. He had seen the Syndicate grow more and more powerful in this system, threatening, blackmailing or just eliminating all rivals, until only he remained.

Jon recognised a reckoning with the Syndicate was fast approaching, as it seemed they had delivered their final warning. Shrugging to himself, Jon was satisfied he had given them fair warning of his own. If the Syndicate moved against Vanguard, they would quickly discover that they had awoken a slumbering dragon. One that would destroy them, utterly.

Jon tensed as he heard the door quietly slide open again but relaxed when he felt the presence of Paul Harrington—his chief of operations. When they first met, years previously, while both had been serving in the Imperial Navy, the blond hair and bright, cerulean eyes had taken Jon aback. While the man was ten years his senior, he looked as though he belonged on the front cover of some surfing magazine, instead of leading an Imperial Special Forces task group. However, time and time again Paul had surprised him, as behind the good looks and bright blue eyes was a tactical mind second to none. Between the two of them, they had achieved victories for the Empire that seemed so fantastic, many of them had just been dismissed as fanciful rumours. When Paul had offered him the position of Chief Executive of Vanguard he had not hesitated in accepting.

“Well the Magistratus from the Chamber just shuffled past me on the way out. He did not look happy. I take it you turned down his offer?” he asked, with a hint of a smirk.

“Damn right I did!” Jon said. “Hell will freeze over before I turn Vanguard over to that bunch of thieves,” he replied with venom. “Anyway what the hell is it with the name? Who came up with the name ‘Chamber of Commerce, Business and Shipping’ anyway?”

Paul just shrugged. “I hear the Syndicate got together and declared a cease-fire between themselves. It seems they realised they could make more money by stopping killing each other and focus on stealing, murdering and extorting their way through the rest of the system. I guess they felt the new name gave them a veneer of respectability. After all, The Syndicate has such negative connotations.” Meanwhile Paul approached the large viewing port in the office and gently ran his fingers across the surface, causing energy ripples in their wake.

“You know,” he mused. “Everybody else on the station is perfectly happy with Tri-Aluminium Silica windows, but not you. What is it with you and empty space?”

Unlike the other windows on the station an energy field, much like the one on the flight deck, which could be easily raised and lowered to allow ships to dock, protected one full length of his office.

Jon turned back to his desk, picking up the paperwork now littering the floor. The paperwork that running a sizable company entailed. “As I have told you before, I prefer the view. Anyway I would get claustrophobic, shackled to this desk, without it,” Jon explained.

Paul had known Jon a long time and had some idea of the ghosts in his past and hence let the matter drop. Almost.

“Hey! It’s no problem to me,” Paul responded with a grin. “I just want to know who is going to be signing my paycheque if we ever have a power failure in this section of the station.”

“And here I thought you were gunning for the Chief Executive position.”

“No way!” said Paul holding up his hands in defence, “The paperwork would kill me.”

“Anyway,” Jon continued. “I like not having a window in my office, and I find it helps keep the meetings shorter.” He had noticed the representative from the Syndicate frequently glancing at the missing window in irritation. While the energy barrier retained atmosphere and deflected the harmful rays from the system’s star just as well as a window, the gaping emptiness did cause a subconscious chill in most visitors and they had no inclination to hang around to see just how reliable the station’s energy distribution grid was.

Meanwhile, Paul had been scanning Jon’s remaining schedule for the day, when an item caught his eye and he frowned in consternation. “You are actually planning on going ahead and attending this meeting?” he said, spinning the datapad around and pointing at one of the few remaining items. Jon glanced at the item, confirming his old friend was indeed referring to the meeting on Transcendence Station, a couple of astronomical units (AUs) from the station.

“Why not?” Jon replied. “It looks like a good prospect. They insisted on a face-to-face meeting to agree on some final details before they signed the contract.”

“A prospect we have never heard of before, that is offering us a huge sum of money and insists the contract can only go ahead after a face-to-face meeting with you, personally? This straight after you have told the Syndicate they can go to hell?” Paul replied with increasing tones of disbelief.

“Well I will agree it is a little unusual,” Jon replied with an easy smile. “However, you cannot expect me to remain in my office, hiding under the desk waiting, for the Syndicate to send somebody to kill me.” Jon tossed the datapad back to Paul with a grin. “Anyway,” Jon went on, pointing his thumb in the direction of the missing wall. “We could have a power failure in this section.”

“Funny,” Paul replied, with a resigned sigh.

“Oh you worry too much,” Jon replied, as Paul strode towards the exit. “Anyway I’ll be in the ’Light, so I’ll be perfectly fine. Paul?” Jon said, just before Paul reached the door.

“Yes?”

“Do you think a person should be forgiven for the mistakes they made in the past?”

“I guess that depends on the mistake, doesn’t it?”

Jon nodded, as he watched the door slide open then close behind his chief of operations. It didn’t matter what others thought, he decided. He was never going to forgive himself anyway.

Miranda’s gaze was drawn away from the sparkling, white ship by the sound of the shuffling footsteps and crack of the cane, as Magistratus Mallart made his way down the corridor to her and their waiting ship. He dropped into a seat next to the window with an audible sigh of relief.

“By the Creator, will I be glad to get off this hellish place. I can only hope this dilapidated rust bucket has a power failure in Radec’s office and hurries him on to meet his maker!” He cursed, trying to get his breath back.

Miranda remained silent, correctly assuming the meeting had not gone well. Not that she was particularly surprised, as she doubted she and her ship would have been sent with the Magistratus if the Syndicate had thought that Jon Radec would have accepted their offer. She had already read the limited file the Syndicate had on the CEO of Vanguard and, privately, she would have been disappointed if he had capitulated so easily. It would seem for once their intelligence on the man had been correct, identifying him as overconfident, arrogant and a risk-taker. He did seem to have an excellent taste in ships however, Miranda thought, as she turned her gaze back toward the ship floating in space only a couple of meters from the viewing port.

“What is that…?” Miranda breathed, unable to keep the full sense of awe from her voice, even though she knew Mallart would disapprove. Glancing out the window Mallart squinted at the ship then looked away with distaste, obviously not sharing Miranda’s opinion of the aesthetic beauty of the ship floating outside.

“Old, long-range Imperial courier shuttle,” her superior groused. “Not many of them still functional since the disintegration of the Imperium. Too expensive. Not much demand for a hyperspace-capable shuttle that can also enter atmosphere these days.” He pointed at a number of points on the bow and body of the shuttle where the additional shielding was obviously designed to cope with the extreme heats of atmospheric re-entry. “All a waste of money, if you ask me, carrying around all the extra shielding. Why not just dock at one of the orbiting stations and get the damn shuttle down like everybody else?” he stated with distaste.

“You mean the ship can land, like on a planet?” Miranda asked incredulity. While she had observed a number of planets that existed within the system, she had always done so from one of the docking stations in orbit. Having been born in space she had never actually stepped foot on a planet. Too dangerous, she had always been warned, with her having been born and lived in the lower gravity of the various ships and stations of the system, as the additional gravity could put too much strain on her heart. Some people had literally dropped dead on stepping out of a shuttle onto a planet’s surface for the first time.

“Where did he acquire such a ship?”

A hint of a frown crossed Mallart’s face when he replied. “We are not too sure. Intelligence could not find much on his past beyond a couple of years ago. He seemed to have suddenly appeared in the system with the ship, enough money to establish his company and acquire this relic left over from the war. We did manage to find out from docking manifests the name of the ship. He calls it the Eternal Light.”

Privately Miranda thought it was a fitting name for this beautiful ship, as the ship seemed to glow silvery-white as it was bathed in light from the stars and the small amount of light produced by this system’s distant star. The ship had a sharp pointed bow and, smoothly elongated body, which flared out into a pair of tapered wings, obviously required for atmospheric flight, before ending in a pair of elevated aft tails. The entire ship reminded Miranda of a picture from Old Earth of a hawk in flight. A flight it was Miranda’s job to end, permanently. It seemed sad to her that it was her responsibility to destroy such a thing of beauty. The pilot she did not give a second thought to. If he was stupid and arrogant enough to turn down her employers’ offer then he got what he deserved. Miranda did spare a brief thought to what it would be like to fly such a magnificent ship, but quickly turned back to her job at hand.

“Is she armed?” She inquired, focusing again after being briefly distracted by the beauty of the ship.

“Armed?” Mallart replied with a short bark of laughter. “It’s an old and very expensive courier ship. Its job was to transfer VIPs comfortably and quickly from one system to another, nothing more. It’s not a warship, my dear,” he concluded, putting heavy emphasis on the last word.

Miranda glanced at him with obvious distaste. He had spent the whole journey making unwanted advances towards her. Frequently suggesting that her advancement would be far more rapid if she was ‘accommodating’ to him. Miranda found the whole idea he would use his position to try and urge her to sleep with him repulsive. Not the least that he was old enough to be her father! She was rather looking forward to the solitary journey home, in her own ship, away from the lecherous old bastard.

In her late twenties, with a slim, willowy body, long, dark, flowing hair and exotic features, her face was definitely oriental, with high cheekbones, full lips and a straight nose. Combined with her almond-shaped, brown eyes Miranda had long garnered a lot of attention from the opposite sex. She had been in a number of relationships, but they had all lasted only a short time and most had ended acrimoniously, including one who was still nursing a broken arm. She had long since given up on the hope she would ever meet somebody who would view her for who she was, who would treat her as an equal and not some plaything to be used and then later discarded.

“Fine!“ Miranda snapped angrily. “Then it will just make this job quicker and easier for me.” With that she turned her back on the Eternal Light and stalked off toward their waiting freighter and her much smaller, but deadlier, ship concealed in the aft cargo hold.

A few hours later the freighter carrying the Magistratus from the Chamber of Commerce, Business and Shipping slowly pulled away from the station. Unnoticed by the station’s sensors a small patch of darkness quietly separated from the departing ship and slipped under the shadow cast by the station to await its prey.

Having finally concluded the remaining business for the day Jon slipped into the comfortable and familiar cockpit of the Eternal Light or ’Light as he had long since referred to her. He smiled briefly as the thought crossed his mind of why ships were always female and he tried to envisage the ’Light as male. The ’Light had sheltered, protected and offered him a home since his own had been lost years before. Anyway the ’Light was the most beautiful ship in this system or any other. No the ’Light was definitely a lady. With that final thought he eased the power to the engines and slowly pulled away from the station. As the station slowly receded in the aft scanner he gave some thought to the first time that he had laid eyes on the station.

He had still been a lowly Lieutenant back in the Imperial Navy, having only recently gained his commission, when his squadron had been dispatched to the outer rim to investigate a growing spate of pirate attacks on the commercial shipping in this sector.

Even back then the Syndicate was busy in this system, Jon mused to himself. The squadron had been based out of this station for several months, back when it was just a remote repair and re-supply station designated, Terra Nova. Even then the station had seemed ancient. During that posting Jon remembered detesting it, viewing this assignment a fool’s errand in the middle of nowhere, with no opportunity for recognition or promotion. It seemed a different life, being that young, eager Lieutenant, always looking for the next opportunity to demonstrate his flying prowess and eager for promotion to newer and better things. Thinking back, he would have given that brash youth some advice, be careful what you wish for… otherwise you might just get it.

Far enough from the station, Jon punched in the co-ordinates to Transcendence Station into the autopilot and pushed the sub-light engines up to full thrust. Reclining into his pilot seat, he settled down for the three-hour journey to his destination.

As the Eternal Light moved away from the station, rapidly picking up speed as it departed, the shadow that had attached itself to the station detached and orientating itself in the same direction as the departing ship. Slowly following, at a distance, so as to ensure that it was not picked up on any of the watching sensors.

Barely halfway into the journey the aft scanner once again pinged as it picked up a faint contact that, once again, faded away. Jon glanced at it with a faint frown. It was the third time during the flight it had detected something, the contact had then disappeared, too weak for identification.

The ’Light was travelling at 0.1C, almost a tenth the speed of light, rapidly heading away from the main sequence dwarf star that made up one of the three stars in the Zeta Aquilae system.

Their home station, Terra Nova, meant “new land” or “new earth” in Latin, a long dead language from Old Earth. Zeta Aquilae was unique as it was the only triple star system within the Confederation. Zeta Aquilae had already been recognised as a place of immense interest back on Old Earth where it had been given the Mandarin names Woo and Yuë, representing the state Wu, an old state in China, located at the mouth of the Yangtze River, and Yue an old state in Zhejiang province.

The main sequence star, a dwarf star, was mostly composed of electron-generating matter. The star was incredibly dense, the mass comparable to that of the Sun in the Sol system but the volume only comparable to that of Old Earth itself. The huge amount of electrons and other particles being given off from the star generated the “Solar Wind” that was particularly dense in this system. It was this soup of high-energy particles giving the rear sensors so much trouble.

Adjusting the aft sensors to reduce their sensitivity and avoid any more ‘phantom’ contacts Jon reviewed the remaining time and course to Transcendence. Studying the display carefully for a few minutes he made some minor course corrections that would take the ’Light on a slightly more elliptical course. This would add another twenty minutes to the journey time but the ship would also pass within a few hundred kilometres of an asteroid belt that existed at the edge of the Heliopause; the technical edge of the system before the depths of interstellar space. While the phantom sensor contact was more than likely caused by the particles given off by the system’s main sequence star Jon had not managed to stay alive this long without taking some precautions. The asteroid belt would make excellent cover if it became necessary.

Miranda was roused from her internal contemplation by the chime of the targeting scanner to notify her the target had altered course slightly. Bringing up the navigational computer she input the new heading and speed and reviewed their projected course. Their destination was still Transcendence Station but the new course would take them on a longer orbital insertion, adding another twenty minutes to the journey time. For the twelfth time during this mission she silently asked herself if the ship she was covertly following had detected her.

However, as usual, the sensors could detect no change in energy emissions, speed or any communications that might indicate her target had detected her and was trying to evade or call for assistance.

Perhaps he is just early for his meeting and wanted to take a more scenic route? Miranda mused to herself, with a smirk. Anyway it was going to be the last decision he ever made. Double-checking the navigational computer and ship’s sensors, she confirmed they were far enough away from Terra Nova not to be detected and there were no other ships in the vicinity to observe this execution. And Miranda was under no illusion that was what this was going to be. With her flying a heavily armed Hawk fighter, equipped with multiple and highly illegal weapon systems and missiles, the unarmed shuttle a few dozen kilometres ahead was a sitting duck. Her employers had insisted, however, this was to be done immediately and with no witnesses. They did not want any evidence left behind. Cursing one final time that she would have to destroy such a beautiful ship, she tightened the straps securing her into the cockpit and triggered the engines to full thrust so as to bring her weapon systems quickly into range.

The wail from the aft sensors was the only split second warning Jon had about the imminent threat before the weapons from the enemy craft cut across his view. The split second was more than enough time for Jon and, with quick reflexes, he sharply banked the ’Light to starboard and kicked full power to the engines. In an instant he was pushed back hard into his seat from the sudden acceleration of the ship.

Miranda blinked her eyes in disbelief, as the attack run she had done dozens of times previously, which had always resulted in the destruction or at least heavy damage to the target ship, cleanly passed through the area of space the shuttle should have been in. Instead the shuttle was banking hard and diving away from her with an incredible level of acceleration, one that should not have been possible for a ship of that size. She had never seen such manoeuvrability and acceleration outside of a dedicated fighter craft, yet here was an old shuttle easily matching her acceleration.

“An old and expensive courier ship, nothing more, my ass!” exclaimed Miranda, cursing Mallart as she pushed her engines to maximum, and beyond, simply to try and gain on the shuttle, which had quickly accelerated to what Miranda hoped was its maximum speed. She cursed again when she glanced at her navigational computer and saw that they were both now rapidly approaching the asteroid field. If she managed to let her target get among the asteroids this simple assignment was going to get a lot more complicated. While still at the maximum range of her guns she sighted on the shuttle ahead and let loose another volley of weaponry.

While continuing to manoeuvre the ’Light in what he hoped was a pattern that was going to upset his attacker’s aim, Jon was still somewhat constrained by the need to keep the ’Light on a course to get among the asteroids as quickly as possible. Hence, while he was able to avoid most of the incoming fire he still winced as a number of bolts hit the thick external armour. Luckily the weapons fire was at its maximum range, therefore most of the energy from the bolts had dissipated before they impacted on the ’Light, still the damage was significant enough that a few more well placed shots was going to cause severe damage. Jon glanced down to check the distance to the asteroid field. Still thirty seconds away at this velocity.

Too long! Swinging the ’Light back around to put the ship on a collision course with the enemy fighter.

Due to the tremendous velocities the two ships were travelling at, Miranda only had an instant to realise the shuttle had now changed course and was coming directly at her. Wrenching the flight controls sharply, she managed to dodge out of the way of the incoming shuttle with only an instant to spare. However, she only had a moment to catch her breath before the aft sensors reported that the shuttle was dropping into a pursuit course behind her.

“This is nuts!” Miranda exclaimed, “I am dogfighting with a shuttle!”

She quickly executed a hard bank to the right and pushed the fighter into a steep dive. Sparing a quick glance behind, she noticed the shuttle adjusted course to match the manoeuvre a few seconds later, but the shuttle went slightly wide of her turn before adjusting to compensate. The manoeuvre demonstrated two things to Miranda. First, her initial impression of Jon Radec based on his file was incorrect. He was indeed an arrogant, overconfident, bastard, but damn was he a superb pilot. Second, while the shuttle had amazing, indeed, unbelievable acceleration, its manoeuvrability could not match her smaller, more agile fighter.

Armed with this knowledge Miranda put her small fighter into a number of gut-wrenching turns she knew the shuttle behind would be unable to match. With a confident smile she checked her aft sensors and indeed confirmed the shuttle was no longer on her tail. She had managed to shake him loose. Her confident smile, however, quickly turned to snarl of anger when her sensors finally picked up the shuttle. Her ‘prey’ had not even attempted to match her dramatic manoeuvres but, instead, had used the time to dash for the cover of the asteroid field.

“Shit!” Miranda cursed, when her navigational and targeting display confirmed she would be unable to get within range of her guns before the shuttle made it to cover. Sighing, as her superiors would be extremely angry at what they viewed as the unnecessary additional expense, she flicked her weapons systems from guns to missiles. Within a fraction of a second the solid tone from her weapons systems reported the missiles had a firm lock on the shuttle. With two quick presses on her firing stud she launched two missiles at the retreating shuttle.

“Fuck!” Jon swore as his threat display system lit up like the sky at night. Detecting the launch of the two missiles, the targeting scanner highlighted the two incoming projectiles, bracketing them in red and flashing warnings, as if Jon was not already aware of the extreme danger they posed to the Eternal Light.

Leaning forward Jon switched the ships ECM system from ‘Passive’ to ‘Active’. In passive mode the Electronic Counter Measures listened for all electronic systems, communications or sensors in surrounding space and displayed them. However, in active mode the system broadcast a huge deluge of electronic ‘noise’ on all bandwidths into surrounding space. This was designed to interfere and disrupt any electronics in ships, or missiles, near the Eternal Light.

With space surrounding the Eternal Light now blanketed by ‘noise’ on the entire electromagnetic spectrum, the two missiles targeting the ship suddenly found it far harder to ‘see’ the shuttle though all the interference. The missile that was furthest away lost its target completely and went harmlessly spinning off into space on completely the wrong trajectory. However, the second missile, which was closer and had a stronger lock on the target, managed to continue aiming for the rapidly closing shuttle.

Quickly calculating the distance to the asteroid field and the estimated impact time of the missile Jon was disappointed to determine the missile was going to impact the Eternal Light several seconds before he reached the cover of the asteroid field. With a hiss of frustration, and a quick prayer to whichever God might be listening, he brought the ship’s limited point defence systems on-line.

Point defence systems, or PDS, as they are commonly referred to, had not changed significantly over the six-hundred years since they had been first invented. They all worked on the simple principle of targeting the incoming object—be it missile, torpedo or ship—and keep shooting at it as quickly and as long as possible. One of two things would then happen. Either the PDS would destroy the incoming object, or it would get blown to hell along with the rest of the ship when the target hit. The PDS system on the Eternal Light was much smaller and less capable than those found on larger warships but worked on exactly the same principle. Two small hatches near the aft of the ship, one on the dorsal the other on the ventral to give a 360-degree field of fire, smoothly slid open to reveal the concealed guns. Both guns slid forward on their mounts into their armed positions and smoothly spun around to target the incoming missile. Having achieved a lock they simultaneously opened fire.

Scientists and engineers had been working on the concept of space-based weaponry since the early days of spaceflight. Human initiative works on the principle of, ‘How do I travel through space?’ Closely followed by the thought of ’How do I shoot somebody else who is trying to travel through my part of space?’ Guns would not work in space, as the propellant would require oxygen to combust and hence push the shell down the barrel. Therefore the earliest space base weaponry was based on the concept of a Rail Gun. This simple weapon, invented late in the twentieth century, used electro-magnets to accelerate and propel a projectile out of the barrel. The two point defence guns on the Eternal Light worked in much the same way as these early weapons, but approximately a hundred times quicker. While the first space-based Rail Guns could fire one round, usually solid, depleted uranium, per second, the guns on the Eternal Light could fire almost one hundred rounds per second. As these were propelled by electro-magnets and fired from space, where heat dissipation was really, really good, it could keep firing until it ran out of ammunition.

Which the guns promptly did 4.8 seconds later.

Miranda watched in open mouth disbelief as the shuttle sent the first missile spinning uselessly out into the void, followed a few seconds later by the complete destruction of her second missile. “No way! No fucking way!” She cursed, as she watched the shuttle slip into the quickly approaching asteroid field ahead. With a roar of anger she kicked the fighter into full thrust and followed the shuttle into the asteroid field, at far too high a speed for any sort of safe navigation of the field.

What followed for the next ten minutes was a dangerous game of cat and mouse among the asteroid belt. The Eternal Light used the space debris for cover to the best of its ability, while Miranda constantly cursed when she was unable to get a good shot or target the other ship long enough for her remaining missiles to get a lock.

Meanwhile Jon had long since come to the conclusion he had a problem, a serious problem. The pilot in the pursuit craft was good, very good. Not as good as him, but almost. His slight advantage in piloting skills, however, was completely offset by their respective ships. While the Eternal Light had been heavily upgraded and no shuttle, not even the old navy heavy assault craft, could match her, she was still a shuttle, while behind was a heavily armed fighter designed for speed and manoeuvrability. The only reason that he and the Eternal Light were still in one piece was the cover given by the asteroids. While he had to be lucky every single time, it was only going to take one lucky shot or missile, since his point defence guns were now out of ammunition, and he was going to be smeared across one of these asteroids. He needed a plan and he needed one quickly.

Deciding he only had one shot at this, Jon slowly started to reduce velocity to close the gap between himself and the fighter already close on his tail. He then activated his own weapon systems on the Eternal Light. A small part of him had hoped his opponent would just decide to call it a day and retreat. However, as time went by and the shots got closer, and the armour more and more damaged, he came to the conclusion the other ship was not going to withdraw and it was going to be his life or the other pilot’s. Therefore it was with no regret Jon armed the concealed missile and waited for confirmation from the targeting computer for a lock. Once the computer confirmed a solid lock Jon reduced velocity even further, praying that the armour would hold up just a few seconds longer. Finally when the enemy ship was almost on top of the ’Light Jon hit the launch control to release the missile and put the ship in a steep dive.

Miranda completely froze when she heard the scream of the threat-warning panel announce the launch of a missile from the shuttle.

Impossible, she thought. Why would he have waited so long if his ship was armed?

Even stranger was that her targeting computer was reporting the missile racing away from her ship, on the same heading as the shuttle and her fighter, still in close pursuit. Glancing back up at her target, she was just in time to see the shuttle drop into a deep dive before the missile exploded. Temporarily blinding her. Trying to blink away the stars that had appeared in her sight from the explosion, she desperately tried to determine what he had hit. It was only a few seconds later, when her sight finally cleared enough, she realised the horrifying truth, and made a desperate grab for the emergency ejector.

Pulling up from the steep dive and ensuring the engines were at full thrust Jon watched the ensuring spectacle on the aft scanners with a degree of regret, although he recognised, in the end, he had no choice.

The missile had hit, exactly on target, one of the larger asteroids in the field and caused it to disintegrate into thousands of fist-sized chunks, which spread out in all directions at hundreds of kilometres per hour. The effect was similar to a dozen shotguns blasting in multiple directions. With the Eternal Light and her heavy armour travelling away from the explosion the effects were minimal, with a few of the smaller, faster fragments impacting on the hull. For the much smaller, lightly armoured fighter, still travelling into the explosion, the effect was much the same as being hit by multiple shotgun blasts at point-blank range.

Catastrophic.

Jon watched quietly as the aft sensor reported the fighter disintegrating in the hail of rocks before disappearing completely from the sensors. With a deep sigh, and determining that the ’Light was at a safe enough distance from the destroyed asteroid, Jon brought the ship to a halt to catch his breath and wait for the field to stabilise before he could safely leave the belt.

Jon had no desire to cause additional deaths. He had seen enough death and destruction to last a person a lifetime during the war. His issue had not been with that ship or its pilot but those who had sent them to kill him. He was sure the fighter and pilot had been sent by the Syndicate to kill him so they could take over the last independent in the system without a fight. It made him even more determined to put an end to this group and their killing spree before it cost any more lives.

Finally deciding the field was stable enough to attempt to exit, he was preparing to power up the engines when the sensors detected a faint energy signature within the field. Deciding to check out the signal first, Jon tentatively navigated the ’Light among the still unstable asteroids until he came to the source—the escape pod of the enemy fighter seemed to have survived the explosion. The ship’s sensors were designed to detect energy signatures, not life signs, so he had no idea if the pilot was still alive or, if so, how badly injured he might be. Based on the weak energy signature it was obviously not going to be detected by any other ships passing this remote portion of the system.

Jon was no murderer and already regretted the necessary destruction of the other ship. Hence, opening the starboard cargo hold, he gently navigated the Eternal Light to capture the escape pod before setting a course back to Transcendence; he was late for his appointment. The pod could wait until he got back to Terra Nova, where the medics could open the pod in case the pilot required medical attention. Jon engaged the main engines and the battered, but still proud, Eternal Light pulled away from the asteroid belt, bow pointing once again towards Transcendence.

Let’s hope that this trip goes better than the last time, Jon thought to himself, recollecting those memories he had buried years before.

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