by J Porteous
'You really believe what a parasite is telling you?' Lewyn said. 'They suckle off everything, including your apparent mercy. It was just a trick so that it could go on sucking down whatever it wanted.'
'Cool it, Rookie,' Justinia said, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'Let's just get out of here first.'
'You read my mind, Lieutenant,' Lewyn said. He turned to the other troopers. 'Wrap this shit up, we're getting out of here.' He glanced back at Carl, his eyes narrowing. 'You didn't happen to find anything interesting down here, did you?'
'You mean apart from metal-merged Junkers?' Justinia sneered back in response.
Corporal Lewyn spat on the floor. 'Alright, no need for the attitude. Enough of this. Let's get back to the surface.'
A break in the darkness lay ahead, the bright sparkles of stars twinkling in the inky darkness. Carl trudged the tunnels towards the surface silently, his thoughts consuming him. Had the altered Speaker been speaking truth, or was it simply trying to stop them from destroying it? If it had been lying, then why did it present them with the Sender Stone? Something doesn't add up here.
The surface of the junk planet opened up in front of them, although the eternal darkness did nothing to alleviate the oppressive feel of the caverns. The scattering stars above them was the only signal that they had surfaced from the depths. Justinia's communication link crackled back into life.
'Lieutenant Clarke? Lieutenant?'
Justinia sprung to life. 'This is Justinia, what is it? Is Hawke okay?'
'I have been trying to raise you for hours, Lieutenant. Hawke is awake.'
Carl turned to Watts, a big smile spreading over the engineer's thin face. Hawke was alive. Relief washed part of his tension away.
'That's good news,' Justinia said, with a breath of relief. 'Tell him we are almost back. We will be there soon. How's the ship?'
'She will hold, Lieutenant. I assume your mission was successful? The Junkers brought the material and finished repairs not long ago.'
Carl saw the relief that came over Justinia's face and felt it himself. Perhaps we won't die here after all.
'The good captain is alive then?' Lewyn said from behind them.
Justinia did not even turn to look at him. 'Save the bullshit, Corporal. We'll be out of here before you know it.'
The Corporal laughed. 'That's no way to thank your rescuers, Lieutenant.'
Shots rang out, the air-bursts of passing rounds knocking against Carl's head. 'Get down!' he yelled, grabbing Justinia and Watts and pulling them down against the floor. He hit the floor with a crack and pulled himself toward a raised piece of metal as cover. He fumbled for his rifle, but the firing had stopped before he could gather himself. He turned back, the Corporal and his troopers a red mess in his head-lamp.
'Space Bastards,' a familiar voice called out. 'Come out. You will not be harmed.'
Carl looked over at Justinia, who nodded back at him. He stood up slowly, peering over the metal he crouched behind. Several figures stood on the edge of the darkness.
One of them stepped forward into the beam of his head-lamp. High Researcher Arrathnar. She was not dressed in her robes, as Carl had last seen her, but now wore a sleek suit of interlocking armour plates, as favoured by the Harathdans.
'Do you know what you've done?' Carl said, throwing his arms back to the bodies behind him. 'That was human military. You're going to start a universal war!'
'They looked like human military,' she interrupted. She scanned over the three of them. 'Where is Hawke and the Byracinth?'
'Hawke is with the War Goddess,' Justinia said. Her voice flattened. 'Sherlock is dead.'
'I am sorry to hear that,' Arrathnar said, turning to her. 'But that is the nature of war, the nature of what we are up against.'
'We're mercenaries,' Justinia replied, an edge returning to her voice. 'We don't go to war.'
'No one wants to go to war, Lieutenant, not even soldiers. However, when the odds are colossal enough, you are going to end up in one whether you wished for it or not. When that happens, it does not matter what you want, but what you do.' She nodded to the Harathdan next to her. 'Sasheem, get rid of these bodies, the Junkers will take care of their ship. Return to Selengra once you've finished.'
The Harathdan which Arrathnar had spoken to nodded a response and called the others with him. Arrathnar looked back at the Space Bastards, her glare resting on Carl. Her eyes burned into him. 'Come, we need to go. Quickly.'
Chapter Eight
Hawke
Hawke sat slumped at his desk, his throbbing head weighing heavy in his hands. He had found himself lying on his bunk bed after waking from his dream. He massaged his temples tenderly. It was a dream, wasn't it? The scar was real, that much was sure. The Synth had found a mirror for him, though he could only stomach a brief glimpse. He reached across his desk and clutched the mirror, holding it up against his better judgement.
His face was already pockmarked from years of fighting but this was something else. Three long red claws were burnt across his face where the creature had almost killed him. He winced as a searing pain bubbled to the surface of his brain. Get over it, he told himself, as he slammed the mirror down. He took a deep breath. It could be worse, could've ended up like Sherlock. His thoughts turned to the rest of the crew. It embarrassed him to be sat in his quarters while the others were in the depths of who knows how big a pile of shit.
'Captain Sparov?'
Hawke looked up to see the Synth standing in the doorway. 'I said don't come back unless I have more questions.' The Synth did not move. He let out a wheezing sigh. 'What is it now?'
The Synth stared back at him with its dead, glowing eyes. 'The crew, Captain. They have come under fire and are on their way back.'
'What?' Hawke lurched to his feet, somewhat slower than he was used to. His head spun at the sudden movement. Who would be firing on them out here? 'We're still on the trash planet, right?'
'Yes, Captain,' the Synth said. 'Just as I had informed you earlier. Our location has not changed.'
Hawke steadied himself on the edge of his desk. 'Help me, will you?' He begrudgingly threw his arm around the Synth, letting it take his weight. They tottered forward together, trudging through the corridors of the War Goddess. Hawke studied the walls as they made their way to the docking bay.
The damage that had been dealt during the breach had been repaired in haste, the typical Junker patchwork of metal giving away the fact that they had been put to work on the ship. He turned away from the thought of what Daria would have said if she could see the state of the War Goddess now.
They reached the drop bay of the ship. Hawke's armour stood lonely in the equipment cage, sparking another flicker of guilt within him. He never would expect his crew to do something that he could not, but right now he could not do much. He reached for his rifle and propped himself up against the wall. 'Get the door open,' he grunted.
The ramp descending slowly in front of him. Light spilled out, revealing a graveyard of steel and alloys. The War Goddess looked quite at home amongst the tarnish and rot, the drop ramp blending in almost seamlessly with the surface. Hawke peered forward, leaning against the wall as he levelled his shaking rifle. Two lights bobbed through the darkness, flying towards the ship. They sped up as they came closer to the light. A fourth figure emerged from the gloom, beyond the two head-lamps that now barrelled towards the War Goddess. He squinted, trying to focus his vision. What the fuck is that? He levelled his rifle at the target, his finger creeping towards the trigger.
'Hawke?' a voice called. Justinia. 'Don't shoot, she just saved our asses.'
He breathed an exhausted sigh and lowered his weapon, muscles shaking with exertion. He raised a quick hand in greeting, too tired to call back, and slumped down against the wall.
The figures quickly emerged into the light that spilled from the War Goddess. Justinia, Watts and Carl. A small smile tugged his lips. The rookie is still alive at least. The fourth figure came closer, the w
hite skin of a Harathdan glowing in the light of the drop bay. He focused on the figure, trying to make out the features of the tall, white blob. His eyes widened as clarity met her. What's that bitch doing here?
The four of them piled up the ramp. Justinia crouched next to Hawke, removing her helmet. 'Hawke?' she said, a smile spreading on her face as she wrapped her arms around him. 'Don't do that to me again, you bastard.' She turned to Carl. 'Give me a hand will you, Rookie? Let's get him back to his quarters.'
'And that's how it happened.'
Hawke pushed himself forwards in his chair. The rest of the crew had crammed themselves into his quarters to discuss what had happened within the depths of the planet. Modified Junkers? A Sender Stone down there as well? A bolt of electricity shot through his mind. 'Do you still have the stone?'
'I wasn't going to let those boy scouts take it off me now, was I?' Justinia said, rummaging in one of her ammo pouches. She pulled the stone out and held it up proudly into the light.
'I told you, Lieutenant, they were not military,' Arrathnar said, an edge of annoyance tinting her words.
'Then what were they?' Carl asked. 'They looked pretty military to me.'
'They wear military uniform, have military gear, but they are not military,' Arrathnar said. 'Not in the traditional sense.'
'And just how did you figure that out?' Hawke said, voice straining with effort.
Arrathnar glared at him. 'You must have noticed the military presence on Selengra, yes? They are the human military, or at least most of them are.'
'Just spit it out,' Hawke said. His body throbbed painfully, cutting his temper short.
'Some of the military there are not sanctioned. They are an offshoot of the military. A rogue command if you will.'
Hawke wanted to answer but his voice failed him. He slumped back into his chair defeated.
'Then who's giving them the orders?' Watts said, from the back of the room.
'That is what we are trying to figure out,' Arrathnar replied, looking over her shoulder. 'They knew you had a stone on board and they knew you were attacked. They needed to make sure you were dead.' She nodded at the stone in Justinia's hand. 'And you almost saved them a job by taking that from the modified Junkers as well.'
'Wait,' Hawke muttered. 'You're trying to tell me that these assholes are after the stones as well? What does a human want with them?'
'I do not believe they are after it for themselves,' Arrathnar said, her face darkening. 'We believe they may be working with something else. With the beings that attacked you.'
Hawke's head swirled. Human military, working with those...creatures? He let his eyes drift slowly to the floor. 'If you hadn't have left that stone on board, we never would have been in this situation,' he murmured. 'And Sherlock would still be alive.' His voice drifted away.
Arrathnar stood there silently for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. 'We needed to make sure the threat was real, Captain. We needed to make sure-'
Hawke's eyes flicked up to meet her. 'You mean you knew this would happen to us?' Rage burnt through him. He stood up, adrenaline letting him lurch towards the Harathdan. 'You left that stone here on purpose?'
Arrathnar took a couple of steps back but held her cold regard of him. 'Captain Sparov, this is bigger than you. Bigger than all of us.'
Hawke slammed his fist into the wall. He fell forward, what little energy he had mustered rapidly draining. Justinia jumped forward and caught him, pulling him up to his feet. He raised a shaking finger towards Arrathnar. 'You,' he growled. 'You are the reason Sherlock is dead. You are the reason my ship was almost destroyed. You are the reason this happened,' he said, turning his finger towards the scars which laced his face.
She did not falter at his words. 'As I was saying, Captain. Some things are bigger than one person.' She glanced around at the rest of the crew. 'Bigger than all of us.' She took a step towards Hawke. 'You of all people should know what they are capable of. They have touched you.'
Hawke felt himself shrink away from her. A sudden fear came over him, as if she had been a witness to what they had showed him. How does she know? How much does she know? He nodded his thanks to Justinia, who in return relaxed her grip, letting him take his own weight again. He stood up straight, forcing strength through his limbs. 'What do you know of them? Of this?' he said, motioning to his face.
'Let me give some orders to my ship, Captain, then perhaps we can all talk in a more civilised manner?'
Hawke nodded. 'How do we know those bastards aren't going to hit us again? We can't take another head on hit like that again, not now.'
'And what about the other stone?' Carl cut in. 'Those things have it now.'
'Agreed,' Arrathnar said to Hawke. 'But they don't know we have the stone yet. They are still expecting those troopers to bring it back. We need to make haste before they come looking for their missing patrol.' She turned to Carl. 'The stone was just that, a stone. We let rumour slip on the station that we had left a Sender stone aboard the War Goddess. Someone, somewhere, took an interest in it.' She glanced around the room. 'In any case, we need to make haste to Selengra, to gather our thoughts.'
'Looks like we've found something we agree on, High Researcher,' Hawke said. He turned to Carl. 'Rookie, get us back to Selengra. Now.'
Two hours had passed, and the War Goddess was quickly closing in on Selengra station. The distance to the station may have lessened but Hawke's pain had not. Arrathnar stood over him as he led in his bunk, running a scanner, the type of which he had never seen, over his face and shoulders. 'Don't think rescuing the crew makes up for Sherlock,' he said. 'We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for you.'
Arrathnar stepped back and looked down at him. 'I would not insult you like that, Captain. I know what it is like to lose someone under your command.' She looked down to her wrist computer. 'The scan is done, you can get up now.'
Hawke winced as he sat upright, pain still aching down to his bones. 'He wasn't just under my command, we were, still are, a team.'
Arrathnar looked up from her scanner, her solid black eyes staring through him. 'From what I understand the Space Bastards is a one way street. Facing inevitable death together tends to bring a bond like no other.'
She was right and he knew it. It was not the first time he had heard someone equate signing up with the Space Bastards to signing your own death warrant. He shifted uncomfortably. 'If those troopers were willing to shoot us down in cold blood, why the fuck are we going back to Selengra?'
'They may want you dead, Captain, but they have not got the manpower to risk an attack in the open,' she said. 'Most of the military on the station are legitimate. These rogues would not want any complications.' The wrist mounted device beeped, prompting her to make an input. Her eyes widened slightly, then she let her face fall deadpan again. 'I will need to return to the Chapter House, I must report what happened to the Grand Researcher.'
Hawke grunted a response. 'Just don't get any more of us killed, not unless we're getting paid.' He watched her for a moment, studying her reaction as she compiled the results from his scan. It did not look good. 'So this,' he said, tracing a finger across the three claw marks. 'It's just a burn, right? Just another scar to add to the collection?'
'Possibly,' she said, looking through the small computer on her wrist. She glanced back up at his face, leaning in again for a better look. 'Although visually it does look like a burn, the physiology of it is something...different.'
Hawke frowned. 'Different? How?'
She propped herself on the edge of his bunk, leaning in to show him the green and black display. 'Most burns this severe cause damage like this,' she said, pointing to a diagram on the screen. 'Nerves will be damaged, sometimes to the degree that they will not be repaired, but on yours...' She flicked the screen over to another diagram. 'This is only a basic scan but you are showing no nerve damage whatsoever.'
'And what exactly does that mean?'
'It me
ans, Captain, that I have never seen anything like this before, nor have our databases.'
'Maybe they're wrong.'
'Now it is my turn to be insulted,' she said, raising an eyebrow at the mere suggestion. 'These databases are old, ancient. Surely even a thick-headed specimen such as yourself must recognise the sheer amount of data and knowledge contained within them?'
Hawke coughed out a small laugh. 'Just clutching at straws here, High Researcher.'
Her face darkened. 'Unfortunately, so am I.' She glanced around the room, eyes darting to the door then back at Hawke. She stood and shut it gently.
He watched her carefully. 'Something you want to say?'
She chewed her cheek. 'I am going to ask you something, Captain, and it may sound a little odd.'
Everything felt odd for Hawke at the moment. 'Go on.'
'Have you had any strange dreams since you were touched? Any thoughts that were not your own, even voices perhaps?'
Hawke tried to keep his face straight. How the fuck does she know? What gave it away? He shook his head. 'No, nothing that I can think of.'
She paused, staring at him. 'Are you sure?'
Hawke cleared his throat. 'What makes you ask in the first place?'
She glanced back at her wrist device. 'I do not know. There is something about the way the nerves are structured.'
'What about them?'
'As I said, most burns as severe as yours cause nerve damage to some degree. Yours are not just undamaged, they show growth.'
'Growth?'
'Yes. Enhanced pathways on a huge scale.' She tapped more details into her wrist device. 'I want to conduct more tests when we get back to Selengra, something a bit more in depth.'
'I'll think about it,' he said. His gut twisted. What would the crew think if they knew I was hearing things, seeing things? I can't risk telling anyone, not yet at least. The proximity alarm sounded, the sudden noise jarring him painfully. The intercom crackled into life.
