The Last Praetorian by Mike Smith

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, as I find that 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 stations 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 data-pad around and pointing at one of the few remaining items on
his schedule for the day. Jon glanced at the item confirming that 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 that we have never heard of before, that is
offering us a huge sum of money and insists that the contract can only go ahead
after a face-to-face meeting with you personally?  This, straight after you
have told the Syndicate that 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
said, tossing the data-pad 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 he strode towards
the exit. “Anyway I’ll be in the ‘Light , so I’ll be perfectly fine…
Paul?” Jon inquired 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 sounds of the shuffling footsteps and crack of the cane as Magistratus
Mallart made his way down the corridor to their waiting ship.  As he approached
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 that this dilapidated rust bucket has a power failure
in Radec’s office and hurries him on to meet his maker!” he cursed while trying
to get his breath back.
    Miranda remained silent, correctly assuming that the meeting
had not gone well.  Not that she was particularly surprised as she doubted that
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 that the Syndicate had on the CEO of Vanguard and privately
she would have been disappointed if he had capitulated so easily.  It would
seem that 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, as Miranda turned her gaze back towards the
ship floating in space only a couple of meters from the viewing port…
    “What is