The Sunfire (4 page)

Taking one final glance at the wreckage floating around the
now stationary fighter, Miranda took a moment to reflect on all the people who
had lost their lives in this huge flagship. She was sure a large number of
those had been individuals like her, good men and women just following orders.
Realising she was long overdue back at the station, she wondered why she had
not restarted the engines, somehow feeling drawn to this location, not just by
the light but also by a feeling
—
.

Miranda found herself staring directly out of the cockpit at
one piece of wreckage floating directly in front of the ship. A small piece. A
dozen or so meters in length, half that in width. Perhaps it was the shape that
drew her gaze? More angular than the other more ragged pieces floating around,
almost the shape of a wedge, tapered towards one end. Something about the shape
of it triggered a memory. She was sure she had seen this piece before. Turning
the object around in her head, finally it occurred to her it was a smaller
piece of a much larger ship. Running through all the ships she knew off the top
of her head
—
until she came to an abrupt stop.

It couldn’t be.

But rotating the ship to orientate the fragment correctly,
she was certain. Peering more closely she could see underneath the black
exterior to the once pristine white hull, in a few places the black exterior
coating was smudged enough that she could see through to the cockpit windows
underneath. She was looking at the cockpit of the
Eternal Light
!
Suddenly her heart seemed to stop beating, her mouth went dry. The cockpit
looked intact. Perhaps…

She slapped the communications panel, broadcasting an
emergency request.

*****

It took far longer to recover the fragment of the shuttle
than Miranda ever expected. Precious minutes were wasted fruitlessly trying to
convince the junior officer on duty in the C&C she had
not
completely
lost her mind and was
not
hallucinating. Eventually she had to order the
officer to put her though to Paul. Even then it took him an agonisingly long
time to answer. Paul already looked ashen faced and pale before Miranda even
explained her discovery. After quickly recounting her story and describing what
she believed she had discovered, Paul quickly assented to dispatching a Search
& Rescue shuttle to her location. For a time Miranda wondered what had
already shocked Paul so badly that he acceded to her outlandish request so
quickly.

Instead Miranda urged the S&R shuttle to hurry. Fuming
at the time it took to arrive and to attach towing cables to the remnant of the
shuttle. For the cockpit of the
Eternal Light
was too big to bring on
board the shuttle, and had no docking hatch to allow a team to board. Hence the
only option was to tow the piece back to
Terra Nova
, into a pressurised
docking bay to open.

Miranda flew ahead of the S&R shuttle, docking at
Terra
Nova
. Not even waiting for all the ships systems to power down she hurried
to the docking bay to await the arrival of the S&R shuttle. Miranda was
pleased to note Paul seemed to have taken her story seriously, as there was
already a small crowd of technicians and an emergency resuscitation team from
medical swarming around the entrance to the docking bay.

Paul was at the head of the crowd, waiting for the green
light indicating the docking bay was pressurised and they could safely enter.
He still looked as pale as a ghost.

“Paul, what’s going on?” Miranda demanded, still dressed in
her flight suit, having come directly from her ship.

“We’re just waiting for the bay to pressurise, the S&R
shuttle with the fragment is on final approach now.”

“Not that,” Miranda replied exasperatedly, leaning forward
and lowering her voice so that she could not be overheard. “Why do you look
like you have just seen a ghost?”

Paul glanced around to make sure that nobody could overhear
their conversation. The rest of the crew were completely focused on the docking
bay pressurisation light, which still glowed a warning red. “That’s because I
have just seen a ghost. He’s currently confined to medical under heavy guard,”
he explained evasively.

“Who is in medical under guard?” She insisted, trying to
understand Paul’s cryptic response.

But Paul was interrupted, before he could reply, by the
chime of the bay door, and the light changed from red to green. With a cry the
crowd surged into the small docking bay, carrying both Paul and Miranda along
with them. Paul’s response lost among the noise.

The engineers immediately swarmed around the blackened
exterior of the object. Up close Miranda was even more certain of her original
guess. One of the engineers confirmed this, as not even waiting for the others
he started to rub away the grime from the object. Clearly visible under the
black exterior was the name
Eternal Light
, imprinted across the hull.
The Aurelius’ family crest was also partially visible, dispelling any
possibility this was another shuttle with the same name. A hush fell across the
crowd after the name became visible. Nobody, not even Miranda, really expected
that it might actually be
the shuttle
.

Redoubling their efforts, the engineers continued to brush
off the external filth, until with a cry of success one of the engineers
finally managed to find the manual control for the emergency cockpit escape
hatch. With a glance at Paul, who gave a nod of approval, the engineer twisted
the control, finally pulling down upon the revealed lever. With an audible
pop
of equalising air pressure, the hatch slid open leaving a dark hole, big enough
for one man or woman, to enter or exit.

The room collectively held their breath, but after a few
moments it became apparent nobody was exiting the cockpit.

“Make way. Make way,” Gunny called out, pushing through the
eight-person deep crowd, his pistol from earlier still firmly strapped to his
thigh. Without even breaking stride Gunny caught the handhold above the
emergency hatch and slid his body through the narrow gap. The crowd held their
breath as the sergeant disappeared from sight.

One minute.

Two.

Time seemed to stretch out endlessly. Suddenly Gunny’s head
appeared back out of the hatch. “Somebody give me a hand,” he called out,
reaching back within the portal. First an arm appeared, encased in the white
Imperial Navy uniform of a fleet Commander, then another, finally followed by a
head. Two of the nearest engineers darted forward, supporting the head as Gunny
eased the rest of Jon’s body out, finally laying the Commander spread eagle on
the floor of the docking bay, in front of all that remained of the
Eternal
Light
. Casting his eyes towards the body, the sergeant whispered
dejectedly, “I can’t find a pulse.”

Not a word was spoken by the crowd. Everyone frozen at the
sight of the body lying on the bay floor. Still. Motionless.

Pushing his way through the crowd, Doctor Richardson kneeled
beside the body, looking for a pulse, unable to find one, but instead finding
the body freezing cold. “Get a resuscitation team over here. Now,” called the
Doctor, as the medics pushed to the front of the crowd, laying out their
equipment around the body, as if in benediction. One of the medics slipped an
oxygen mask over Jon’s face, while another medic handed the doctor the small
portable defibrillator.

“Clear,” he called, activating the massive electrical charge
to surge through Jon’s body, jumpstarting his heart muscles.

Jon spasmed, but was then still.

Checking once again for a pulse, but unable to find one, the
Doctor reapplied the defibrillator, once again sending the massive jolt of
energy through the body
—
again with no success. The crowd
started to back away, the mood turning bleak as they recognised the Commander
had passed away.

“By the great Maker. Live!” The Doctor roared only
centimetres from Jon’s face. “I didn’t spend this much time patching you up for
you to die on me now. Again,” this last instruction was directed at the medic
clutching the defibrillator.

“Doctor, there is no sign of any brain activity.”

“
I said again!
” Richardson thundered.

The medic gave a nervous glace at his colleague, and with a
subtle nod from him, applied the defibrillator, one final time.

Again Jon spasmed and was then still.

Shaking his head in despair the medic turned to the Doctor
to pronounce the verdict, when suddenly the monitor flickered to life, only for
a brief moment. The medic had to blink twice before he could believe what his
eyes were telling him.

“Doctor, we have a pulse,” he stuttered in disbelief.

“Keep the oxygen flowing,” Richardson insisted. “Let’s get
him to medical ASAP. Clear a path, out the way,” he called, pushing his way
through the stunned crowd, with Jon and the attending resuscitation team
following close behind.

Miranda felt her legs give out beneath her and she slid to
the floor. Unable to comprehend what had just happened. Jon. Alive! If she had
not felt the need to take her ship off the station, if she had not followed
that beacon, had not recognised the object floating in front of her ship…

Suddenly a shadow blocked the light and she lookup up into
Paul’s pale face. But this time, instead of frowning, he shared her weak smile
of relief.

“You okay?” He asked, giving her a concerned look.

“I will be. I just cannot believe it. You think he will be
okay?” She suddenly asked worriedly, remembering the medic announcing there was
no brain activity.

“We’ll just have to wait and see, but I’ll tell you this, it’s
not the first time that Jon has cheated death. It makes you wonder just how
many lives the man has.” With this he offered a hand to the younger woman.
“Join Gunny and me in my office? I have an expensive bottle of Scotch that has
been waiting for just such an opportunity
—
and there is
something else we need to discuss. The Scotch will help.”

*****

Sometime later, after Miranda had managed to catch a quick
shower and change out of her flight suit, she found Gunny and Paul in his
office. An unopened bottle of Scotch resting on the table between the two men.

“Just in time,” Paul called out cheerfully. “We were about
to start without you.” He gracefully plopped ice cubes into a cut crystal
tumbler, then splashed two generous fingers of Scotch over them before offering
her the glass. “Bottoms up,” he said with a smirk, raising his glass before
swallowing the contents in a single gulp.

With Gunny doing likewise, Miranda followed the example of
the two officers. Her eyes bulged as the fiery liquid splashed down her throat.
“Garr,” she exhaled, pounding on her chest, desperately trying to catch her
breath.

“Another glass?” Paul inquired, trying to supress a laugh.

“I’m good,” Miranda wheezed.

Paul just laughed before his expression turned more serious.
“Miranda, how did you find Jon out there? Do you know what the odds are of you
just stumbling on the remains of his ship?”

Miranda averted her eyes from the two men. She had been
hoping that question did not come up, as she had no good answer for them. “It
was just the damn strangest feeling,” she said trying to put into words the
sensation. “First I was feeling claustrophobic stuck on the station. Ever since
Jon’s supposed death, it felt like every corner I would turn and bump into him.
Every room that I entered, he would be there waiting. That it was all just a
big misunderstanding. Then when I was out there in my ship, it just felt like
something was continually pulling me in that direction. It’s just so hard to
put into words.”

“I told you so,” Gunny said to Paul.

“Let it be, Gunny,” Paul said with an angry glare.

“Told you what?” Miranda asked, looking between the two men.

“It was destiny,” Gunny replied succinctly.

Miranda’s jaw dropped open in shock. “It was what?” She
asked in disbelief.

Giving Gunny another evil glare, Paul turned back to Miranda
resignedly. “Gunny has got some crazy, half-assed ideas about destiny and
pre-determination.”

“They’re not crazy.”

“Then you explain it to her then.”

“Sure. You know what pre-determination is Miranda?” Gunny
asked.

“I think so. You mean that our future is already
pre-determined, like written down somewhere,” she said.

“Exactly,” Gunny replied, with a wide grin, a teacher
pleased with his star pupil. “Now, everyone is born with a small smidgeon of
destiny, but most waste it
—
”

“How can you waste your destiny?” She interrupted confused.

“By not using it,” Gunny exclaimed, smacking his palm down
on the table, hard enough to shake the ice cubes in their glasses. “By
following some mundane nine-to-five job, spending your life being a bean
counter; or god forbid a politician, by wasting your life away.”

“Ok, so what happens to all this unused destiny?” She asked,
ignoring Paul who was rolling his eyes exasperatedly. Subliminally trying to
communicate to her not to encourage Gunny.

“That’s where it gets interesting, you see. It builds up,
drop by drop, until eventually it becomes a vast torrent of potential.
Eventually it finds an outlet—an individual, a special one—and breaks through,
affecting him or her and all the people and events surrounding them.”

“You mean Jon?”

“Exactly. They are like giants that walk among us; but there
have been others, throughout history.”

“Like?” Miranda asked curiously.

“Edward Aurelius.”

“Oh, come on, Edward Aurelius founded the Imperium. Are you
saying Jon is like him?”

“You don’t think the Commander could carve out an Empire if
he so desired? It’s not recorded in any history books or the official archives
but it was Jon who was instrumental in founding the Confederation. His
signature is on the founding charter.”