Traitors of Sol: Part One of the Sol Sequence

by J Porteous

  She shifted uncomfortably at his silence. The light on her communication unit flashed. She quickly pulled it to her ear, a welcome respite from the silence that had settled on the room. She nodded and agreed with whatever was said on the other end of the channel. 'Yes, Admiral, I'll let Captain Sparov know.' Her eyes dropped back to Hawke. 'The Admiral would like to see you. If you take a right out of the door and continue straight down the hallway you won't be able to miss him.'

  'Wait, I-'

  'If you have any questions, Captain, the Admiral will be happy to answer them.' She smiled again. 'It's good to have you back, Captain.'

  The door hissed shut, leaving Hawke alone in the room again. The last time he had been attended to by the Human military was onboard a prison ship. Looking at the plush surroundings, there was little doubt this was not one of those ships. No heavy shackles bound his feet or hands. The desk next to where he was seated held a monitor streaming news from Callisto. His heart thundered at the thought of his home planet in a way it never had over the past twenty three years. No time to sit around, he thought. I need to find out what's going on.

  He forced himself away from the images of Callisto and made his way towards the door. It slid open quickly. Bright light poured through the wide window ahead of him, bathing the corridor in a golden glow. Now I know this isn't a prison ship. He recognised it now. It was a Nero class cruiser, the same style he had served the Council on. He glanced back to the room he was in. It made sense to him now. Officer quarters.

  The corridor stretched away from him. The door the flight lieutenant directed him to beckoned him from a distance, and two guards stood either side of it. The empty corridor echoed his cautious footsteps. He watched the guards as he moved closer, muscles tensed at the expectation of confrontation. His previous experience in Human military custody had not been a gentle one. They looked forward, as if staring right through him, as motionless as statues. Hawke wetted his dry mouth, trying to decide on whether to walk straight through the pair of them or attempt to talk to them first. The memory of being spat and shouted at as he was led in chains to the War Goddess to be read his rights of exile crept into his mind all too easily.

  'The Admiral is waiting, Captain Sparov.' one guard said, his stare into the distance unflinching.

  Hawke managed to acknowledge the trooper with a slight nod. He stepped through the threshold, almost ashamed of himself. Pull it together, old man, don't show them your nerves. He had been respected as Captain of the Council Guard, and feared as captain of the War Goddess; yet here he felt like a child waiting to be chastised.

  On the other side of the door was another room he recognised. The ship captain's quarters. They were just how he remembered them, all blackened steel and chrome. A polished desk stood before him, two grand chairs stood either side.

  'Take a seat, Captain Sparov. The Admiral will be with you shortly.'

  Hawke turned to answer but the door had already closed behind him. He moved to the desk and took a seat. The decoration was sparse, with no pictures of family or memorabilia from previous missions, as is customary for ship captains. Several decanters sat in front of him. He could not resist picking one up to look. He recognised the brilliant gold hue of the liquid within.

  'Guardian of the Abyss, finest liquor in the known universe.'

  The voice cut straight into Hawke like a blade. Zura? His knuckles whitened at his grip on the glass. It can't be. I've kept my end of the bargain.

  'Or at least that is what an old friend of mine tells me. Named after the last station you see before the gravitational pull of the super-colossal black hole, known as the Abyss, drags you into oblivion. Rather aptly named, don't you think?'

  Hawke did not dare turn to look at him, instead concentrating on the liquid as it swirled around in the decanter.

  A long shadow came closer to the table. 'By all means, Hawke, help yourself,' the voice said, drifting closer from behind him. 'After all you've been through, I dare say you deserve a drink.'

  Hawke gritted his teeth. 'Coming from anyone else, I'd agree. Coming from you, I'd say you've got some real fucking nerve.' He stared at the glass, watching the reflection come closer to him. The distorted features of a familiar face glared back at him.

  The figure stepped past him slowly and took a seat in the chair opposite.

  It was him alright. The same greasy smile curling on his lips, same look of pomp and self righteousness about him. The old battle scar on his face had been partially concealed with make-up was still there, the old blistered skin keeping a slightly bubbled appearance. Hawke slowly placed the decanter back on the table, afraid of what he might do if he kept hold of it. 'Zura.'

  'Now, now, Captain, that's no way to speak to an old friend is it?' he said, the sickening grin spreading across his cheeks. He studied Hawke for a moment, watching the fury in his face. He nodded nonchalantly towards the door. 'Remember yourself, Hawke. Don't forget, my guards are just outside.'

  'The friend that betrayed me to gain control over Sol? I know how to greet you.' Hawke said. As much as he hated to admit it, Zura was right. Attacking him now would be suicide, and he would not jeopardise the safety of Daria. Hawke pushed the decanter away, out of the reach of temptation. He sucked his bottom lip, eyes boring into the man before him. 'Cut to the chase, Zura. What am I doing here? I've kept my end of the bargain.'

  'Betrayed?' Zura said, taken aback. 'Bargain, Hawke?' He looked almost offended. 'I know this episode has strained our friendship recently, but I need to be seen to be doing my job. You understand that, don't you?'

  Hawke glowered at him. 'Don't fuck me about.'

  The Admiral's eyes softened. 'I understand you are angry, Hawke. I really do. Being framed for the murder of the Sol System Planetary Council, that's a heavy burden.' He reached for the decanter that Hawke had pushed towards him and poured himself a glass. 'When I burst into that Council chamber to find you crouched over their bodies, I was as surprised as anyone else. You've got to admit it looked bad, Hawke, on the night of your appointment as Captain of the Council Guard, too. Your punishment was unwarranted, unjustified, but we couldn't have you on the loose when the real suspects were still in the shadows. The military will rectify their mistake, Hawke, I can assure you of that. Their compensation packages are quite generous.'

  Hawke screwed his eyes. 'You framed me. You murdered the Council.'

  The Admiral looked stunned. 'I know that year locked away inside a prison ship was hard on you, Hawke, but don't let it addle your brain. We caught those that did it. Harathdan assassins, some terrorist cell. They admitted everything.'

  Hawke could not believe the words he was hearing. What the fuck is going on here? To his memory he had been chained, charged, and exiled out of Sol, all on Zura's orders.

  Zura picked the decanter up, gesturing it towards Hawke. 'I had brought the Abyss here to celebrate with you, Hawke, as a friend, not to listen to the ramblings of someone who has sat a year in solitary confinement, as regretful as I am of that.'

  'Celebrate what exactly?'

  The Admiral's grin spread further. 'Why, you're going home of course. You're innocent, why would we detain you any longer?' He leaned forward and poured a glass for Hawke, pushing it towards him. 'If you can't celebrate justice, what can you celebrate?'

  Hawke forced down the lump in his throat with a swig from the glass. 'Home?'

  Zura raised an eyebrow. 'Yes, Hawke, home. Callisto. Don't tell me you've forgotten that much in your incarceration?' The door to the room slid open and two guards stepped inside. Zura raised his arms to them in greeting. 'Fantastic timing,' he said. He turned to Hawke. 'I've instructed my guard to take my personal ship and take you back home. Maybe it might even convince you to trade in that scrap bucket of your own for something a little more modern?' He laughed at his own comment. 'Well don't just sit there, Hawke, go home. I'll drop by the house later. Daria is waiting for you.'

  'Daria,' Hawke mouthed. 'I can see her?'

  Zur
a frowned. 'Have you not heard what I'm saying? You're free, Hawke. Of course you can see her.' He signalled his guards closer. 'Now, I won't hear another word. Go home. That's an order.'

  The transportation unit glided above the neighbourhoods of the sub-city, the low hum of the anti-gravity being something he had not heard for a long time. He looked out onto the streets below. It's been so long. His mind replayed the last thing that Zura had said to him. Daria was waiting for him. His heart leapt in his chest, causing the confusion of the situation to sink into the depths of his mind.

  'Not much has changed, has it, Captain?' the guard behind him said.

  Hawke could not take his eyes away from the scene. 'No. No it hasn't.'

  The same groupings of ground houses led beneath him, the slums of the city stretching out as far as the eye could see. Even these decrepit houses, dying from steel-rot, felt warm and almost accommodating. In the distance the large shapes of the countless hydro-wells that employed eighty percent of the population loomed menacingly above the shanty homes below. It had once been a familiar sight on his return from the Council meetings with the Harathdans on the edge of the system.

  'City Zero up ahead, Captain, ETA five minutes.'

  City Zero. The home of the wealthy, the influential, the important. Those who kept the world spinning. Any man could make it there, as long as he had the determination and the tenacity necessary, but not every man did. He could still remember the day he joined the Council Guard. Can't have you living down in the slums, can we? His penthouse was modest in comparison to the other housing in the area, but it was a world away from that of the slums. The best medical care, the best education, the best life.

  The guard's communication unit beeped. 'Yes? Okay, I'll let him know.'

  Hawke tore his eyes away from the grandness of City Zero approaching. 'What is it?'

  'Your family are currently at home and awaiting your arrival.'

  Hawke muttered to himself, tears welling in his eyes. It has been so long, will she even recognise me?

  'And your daughter,' the guard continued. 'Both are waiting for you.'

  Hawke struggled to find the words he to speak. 'Daughter?'

  'Yes, Captain,' the guard said, punching information into his wrist pad. 'According to the city census she was born three months ago, while you were serving your sentence.'

  A daughter. My daughter. 'What's her name?'

  'Elpis.'

  Hawke smiled to himself. Typical Daria. 'How is she?'

  'Current health status is optimal. Strong pulse, no weak genes. Just what we expect in City Zero,' the guard replied, smiling back at him.

  Hawke fought hard to control his breathing. This can't be real. His pinched himself, only to find pain coursing through his nerves.

  'I had the same, Captain,' the guard said.

  'Same what?'

  'My kid. I was away when he was born,' he said. 'Of course, not imprisoned like yourself but you're still away from them, you know?'

  Hawke smiled back. Damn right I know. 'It is hard,' he said, and turned back to look over the landscape below. 'Being away from those you love, I mean.'

  'Captain Hawke,' the guard said gingerly. 'I just want to say, I never believed it.'

  Hawke turned and looked the guard in the eye. 'I would never turn my back on my duty. Never.'

  The guard stood up straight. 'Ask any serving trooper and they'll say the same. You had served too well, given too much, to turn on your own. It didn't make any sense.'

  Hawke nodded a thanks. Maybe the people have not turned away from me as I thought.

  The guard's communication unit beeped again. 'Might want to buckle up, Captain, thirty seconds until touch down.'

  Clean beams of sunlight broke the cloud cover. The transportation unit shot back into the hover-way above before blasting into the distance. Hawke looked at the gleaming white building in front of him. It was as if he had never left. Home. Somehow, he seemed reluctant to go in, as if touching this perfect image would break the illusion. He pinched himself again. This is no illusion.

  He walked through his garden. The synthetic vegetation was still well maintained. Daria had wanted replicas of the vegetation that had existed on Earth once. It should have cost a fortune, but the Council provided it as welcoming gift when they had moved up from the slums. The neighbourhood was still, as eerily silent as it always was when everyone was off-world. Everything was as it should be. He reached a hesitant hand out and buzzed the intercom. His heart raced, waiting for what felt like eternity for a reply.

  'Hello?'

  That soft voice was unmistakable. He pressed a hand against the intercom. 'Daria...' The line dropped dead, leaving Hawke stood there in silence. Did she turn away from me?

  The door opened hesitantly, a single green eye peering through the gap.

  'Daria?'

  The door swung open, revealing a figure stood in the entrance. She was as beautiful as she had always been. Dark brown hair framed a porcelain white face, her rounded green eyes jolting out to pierce him. Everything was as he remembered. She had not aged a bit.

  'Hawke?' she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. She threw herself forward, arms wrapping around him. 'Hawke...' she said through sobs. 'I didn't know if you were ever coming home.'

  Hawke wiped tears from his own face, smiling. 'I didn't think I was.' He cupped her head, bringing it up to face him. Her warm breath caressed his skin. The slight wetness of her tears ran down her cheek and onto his rough hand. This is real.

  She planted a soft kiss on his lips then looked up into his eyes. 'I have something to show you.'

  Daria led Hawke through to the lounge. 'Wait here,' she said, before planting another soft kiss on him and disappearing further down the hall.

  Nothing had changed. The same pictures, the same décor, the same smell. Hawke looked around at the vacuum sealed cabinets that adorned the walls. He always joked that it looked more like a museum than a house. Remnants of Earth filled each one. Paper magazines, signposts, fossilised remains. Daria had always said that it was important to remember our true home, especially since it had been swallowed by the bloated red giant that the Sun had become. He found a new case on the end, a book encased within.

  'It's a new one,' she said, a beaming smile filling her face as she crept up behind him. She held her hands up and laughed. 'I know, I know. I admit it, it really has become a museum. This one was a gift from Zura. It was so thoughtful of him.'

  Hawke laughed back, covering his festering thoughts at that name. 'What is it this time?'

  She danced over and lovingly placed her hands on the cabinet. 'It's a book of classical Greek stories. First generation Greeks.' She stared longingly into the cabinet. 'I just wish I could get in there and open it up, without being afraid of it crumbling to pieces.' She sighed and looked up at him. 'The past is such a fragile thing.'

  Hawke breathed a laugh. 'You haven't changed one bit.'

  A smile tugged her lips. She reached out and grabbed his hand. 'Come on, I've got something to show you.'

  He smiled and played dumb, pretending to forget the words of the guard. 'Not more relics I hope?'

  She smiled. 'It's something even more precious than the past. The future.' She guided him through the hall, towards where the spare bedroom stood. 'It's not full of the same junk it used to be.' She pressed the door open slowly, revealing the room in all of its glory. It was a bright nursery, with colourful characters dancing along the walls. She walked over to the cot in the centre of the room. 'Come,' she said, gesturing Hawke over. 'Come and meet your daughter, Elpis.'

  Hawke peered over into the cot. She was tiny, wrapped in soft linen. He reached down and scooped her up in his battered hands. He looked at her as she slept soundly in his arms. 'Elpis, is it?'

  'The personification and spirit of hope,' she said, smiling at the little life in his arms. She looked up at Hawke. 'Ancient Greek mythology, of course.'

  He smiled back. 'Of course. Didn't expect anyt
hing else.'

  'I'm the brains, you're the brawn, remember?'

  Hawke placed Elpis slowly down into the crib. She didn't move an inch. Small, silent, and perfect. He looked back up at Daria, she couldn't stop smiling down into the crib. 'I think I'm going to need a beer after this surprise.'

  No response.

  'Daria?' Hawke placed a hand on her shoulder. She did not move. 'Daria, what's wrong?' He shook her with both hands. She was frozen stiff, as if turned to stone. He dashed out to the lounge area and grabbed the phone. 'Hello? Emergency services?' The line was quiet. He threw the phone down and ran back to the nursery.

  The room was dark, and Daria and Elpis were missing. He called out for them. Nothing. What is going on? He turned and saw it stood in the doorway, shadows covering its features. It was huge, filling the space in the door frame with ease.

  'Who are you? What have you done with them?' Hawke growled. He balled his fists, ready to launch himself at the towering figure.

  A deep voice penetrated his mind. You know who we are. We know you want this.

  He instantly recognised the voice. Everything came flooding back to him. Talking with Goban in his quarters, the intense cold, the huge creature burning his face. How could I possibly forget that?

  Everything you just saw of your family. Everything is true. We can give it to you.

  'No, that's not true. This is a dream, that's all this is.'

  We know you are innocent. We know your crimes were false. What you are seeing now is another universe, another timeline of your life. The Council still died, that much is true, but you were not exiled from the system you know as Sol. You were not framed here, it was only a simple miscarriage of justice.

  Hawke ran his hand over his face. 'That doesn't make any sense. That's impossible.'

  There are many things you cannot understand. Your physical body still lies within your ship, unconscious, an empty vessel. We have simply transferred your consciousness to another instance of your body, a different time line. We can give you this. It is ours to give as we please, just as we came into your existence as we pleased. We have conquered the realms between the multiverse.