Traitors of Sol: Part One of the Sol Sequence

by J Porteous

  'Mission parameters?' Carl croaked out a cough. 'What do you mean? Co-pilot?'

  'You, ex-serviceman Goban. I was in command of all of the Indomitable's systems. When you attempted to avert the crash, I overrode the controls to ensure our mission was completed.'

  'Wait, you mean...' Carl stuttered hesitantly. 'The crew, me, were meant to die on that ship?'

  'Correct. Once we had reached Revenar, I took over from your co-pilot duties and scuttled the ship against the planet surface as per orders.'

  Hawke could see tears welling in Carl's eyes. Never nice getting fucked over. He pulled himself to his feet. 'Someone got too paranoid,' Hawke said. 'And I think that someone is Admiral Zura. He couldn't risk any loose ends.' His mind raced. He looked around at the gathered crew. 'And this stone they took from the New England, I think we all know what it is. Seems like we aren't the only people in this race.'

  Watts nodded. 'When Goban and I hit the Royal Hunt, someone had tried hitting it before us. Someone had tried getting to Nelson before us.'

  Arrathnar placed a hand on Carl, holding him steady. She looked at the Synth. 'Where exactly did those parameters come from? What could be worth a crews life?'

  'The cargo was extremely sensitive. Black class specified,' the Synth said. 'Analysis of my databanks suggests an artifact. From fragments of data I can retrieve I understand it was a rock of sorts. Not geological but fabricated. All other data was erased. It was gathered successfully from the crash site.' It looked back towards Carl. 'I was at least partially successful.'

  'It wasn't my fault? It wasn't my fault,' Carl sobbed suddenly. Arrathnar held a hand out to stop him collapsing to the floor. 'If it wasn't for the ship crash I wouldn't have been expelled from the military,' he cried, pointing a shaking finger towards the Synth. 'I would have been in contact with my parents. I would have been there to save them.' He pulled himself free from Arrathnar's grip and stumbled towards the Synth. 'If it wasn't for you-'

  Hawke grabbed Carl and shook him. 'If it wasn't for you getting expelled, you would be dead on the New England as well.' He grabbed Carl's chin and forced him to look up at him. 'You want vengeance? No one can get vengeance if they are dead. Use that hate for something, don't let it bury you.'

  Carl looked back at him with empty eyes. 'Is that what's been keeping you alive all these years?' he said. 'Captain.'

  Hawke grimaced as the truth of his words hit him. What would Daria say if she saw me like this? He tried to reply, but his voice faltered before him. I'm not that person any more, he thought. I'm not Hawke Sparov, just a parasite inhabiting the empty husk of a person who used to feel more than just hate.

  Hawke let go of Carl. 'I'm sorry, Goban,' he muttered. 'Forgive me.' He walked towards the doorway of the room with his head bowed. He turned to Justinia. 'Process the data from the New England. Let me know when we've got a location.'

  Hawke sat slumped in his quarters, his head weighing heavy in hands, heavier than it should have felt. He thought back to what had happened in engineering, the look in Carl's eyes as he pinned the pilot against the wall. The look in everyone's eyes. A heavy sigh passed his lips. 'What have you become, old man?'

  He looked at the combat jacket hung on the side of his bunk, the stitched logo staring back at him. Loyalty to the captain, loyalty to the ship, loyalty to the pay. Right now, he lived to none of those things. You need the crew on your side, he told himself. Reign it in, for your own sake. He noticed a bruise already breaking the surface of his forearm. He sucked his lip as he looked at it. It was not even half as bad as what Carl would get.

  'Hawke?'

  He looked up to see Justinia stood in the doorway, lurking like a phantom. He dropped his arms and sat back in his seat, attempting to look relaxed. 'Hey.'

  She hovered hesitantly in the doorway for a moment, then stepped into the room and grabbed the seat opposite him.

  'How's the data mining going?' he said, trying hard to keep eye contact with her intense stare.

  'It's almost there, shouldn't be much longer,' she said flatly.

  Hawke felt her glare burning through him. He tried to hold her gaze, but faltered and let his eyes fall to the floor. 'Let's not fuck about,' he muttered. 'You're not just here to talk about the data I assume?' He managed to glance up at her. 'How's Goban?'

  'He'll live.' She sat silent for a moment, either mustering up the courage to be blunt about what just happened, or not wanting to face the truth of it herself. She leaned towards him. 'What the fuck happened out there, Hawke?'

  Hawke rapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, his stubby fingers drumming a quick paced rhythm that almost matched his thundering heart. Is it time to tell them that Hawke Sparov hasn't always been a cold blooded bastard, or is this husk of hatred the real me, the true me? He thought about the mission ahead, about what lay at stake. He thought about what was important. Keep up appearances, he decided, for now at least. I need their trust. 'I lost my cool,' he said, through a large out breath. He looked up, matching her stare. 'I haven't always been known for my level-headed decisions.'

  Justinia rolled her eyes and spat through her teeth. 'That out there was another level, Hawke.' She leaned back and folded her arms. 'Something is effecting you. It's since that thing branded your face-'

  'It's not a brand,' Hawke said sharply. 'It's a scar. I've got plenty of them. It's just one more to add to the collection.'

  Justinia ran a hand over her smooth scalp, letting a frustrated sigh escape. 'Hawke, how long have I been flying with you and the Bastards now? Fifteen years?' She reached out and placed her hand on his, gently stopping the constant padding of his fingers against the arm rest. 'I've seen you lose your shit before, and it's always been for a good enough reason, but this was different.'

  Hawke sucked his teeth and drew his hand back, away from Justinia's grasp. He had been bounty hunting for tens years before he had met Justinia, rolling from station to planet to port to colony ship, spewing venom and violence where he needed to in an attempt to kill off any memory of the life he led before. Most days he had managed to put Daria to the back of his thoughts, as much as it pained him. Going forward with her in his mind would have killed him years ago, by his own hands rather than others. Perhaps his recklessness had been his own subconscious wish for death to find him manifesting itself. 'You're right,' he said.

  'Hawke, if there is something you need to tell me, then tell me.'

  He thought back to what the visions had been promising him. A chance to see Daria again, a chance to meet his daughter. To be with them. He looked up at Justinia, a faint smile touching his lips. 'I will, just not here, not now.' He cleared his throat. 'I need to know I can count on you though, that I can trust you.'

  She managed a smile back. 'If you can't trust me after fifteen years, then when can you trust me?'

  'I'm not interrupting anything, am I?'

  They both turned to see Arrathnar leaning on the door frame.

  'How long have you been there?' Hawke said, stiffening in his seat.

  'Don't worry, Captain,' she said. 'I have no interest in your idle gossip.'

  'Any luck with the data from the New England?' Justinia asked.

  Arrathnar stepped into the room. Her milky complexion appeared even paler after the scene in engineering. 'Yes,' she said. 'Nelson performed admirably well.'

  'Nelson?' Hawke said, raising an eyebrow. 'It's not a pet you know.'

  'No, but it is an AI, Captain. It is not as simple as talking to a standard Synth.'

  Hawke bypassed her response with a simple nod. 'Well, what did Nelson come up with?'

  'There were four ships in total that warped into the system nearby,' Arrathnar said. 'Unknown registration on three of them, however the fourth came back as the Hell Hammer.'

  Hawke and Justinia shared a quick glance. 'The Hell Hammer?' Hawke said. 'Are you sure?'

  Arrathnar nodded. 'There is no doubt,' she said. 'Is there a problem, Captain?'

  'No, there isn't. It's ano
ther merc outfit's ship,' he said, watching Justinia nod in agreement. 'The Blistered Suns, they went off radar over three months ago.'

  Justinia creased her brow. 'Surely the Suns wouldn't take on an assignment like this?'

  'Well, now is your chance to find out,' Arrathnar said. 'The ships warped out of the immediate system and made trails for the Forge Rim.'

  Justinia stood from her seat. 'I'll get Goban on it now.' She marched towards the door, making Arrathnar move aside before disappearing out of the room.

  'Charming, as always,' Arrathnar said, as she watched Justinia disappear down the corridor. 'Do you know much of the Forge Rim, Captain?' she said, turning back to Hawke.

  'Never been,' Hawke said. 'Bunch of dead planets. There isn't any distress signals out there, so no reason to go.' He hauled himself out of his seat. 'Why do you ask?'

  'It is where we found the etchings,' she said, narrowing her eyes. 'If the stone is there with them, we need to get it, no matter what the cost.' She stepped forward before leaning down to whisper in his ear. 'This may be your ship, Hawke, but this is my mission. I will not let anything compromise it. Do you understand? Anything.' She took a step back and looked down at him. She held his glare for a moment then stormed out of the room.

  Hawke sat alone in his quarters. Yeah, he thought. I get you.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carl

  The War Goddess dropped out of warp space and into the barren realms of the Forge Rim. The view-port opened up, revealing scores of planets that danced off far beyond view. Multiple scanners lit up in front of Carl as power ran back to them from the warp core, bathing the cockpit in its familiar green tone. He ran a hand gently over his throat and hissed. Something had really set Hawke off, but the root of it was lost to Carl. The mention of Admiral Zura seemed to have had something to do with it.

  He wracked his brain, dredging up any tidbit of information he could recall from his life in the military. Admiral Zura had been in command of the military forces of Sol while he was still in the academy, why would he be making his presence made known so far from his post? A more dangerous question would be did he know the importance of the Sender stone recovered from the Indomitable? It seemed too coincidental to be ignored. Thoughts of a more personal nature quickly pushed these questions aside.

  His dismissal from the military had not been fault. He had not failed his parents after all. He felt lighter, vindicated, the revelation nudging the image of his parents, cold and exposed to the void, from the front of his mind. His feelings of failure and fault slowly drained away, releasing him of their cast iron grip. Now, the only thing that filled him were the smoldering coals of vengeance.

  Vengeance on those that had destroyed the New England, those that had slaughtered defenceless men, women and children. Those that had murdered his parents. Had it been the same people that had wiped out the survivors of the Indomitable? If Nelson was correct, and the surviving members of the Indomitable crew were indeed dead, another, more frightening, question reared its head. Was he next?

  Carl punched the registration for the Hell Hammer into the local system map, scanning for decaying heat trails in the cold depths of space. Something flashed on a screen to his left. A confirmed trail. He grabbed the intercom. 'Heat trail of the Hell Hammer confirmed,' he grunted, forcing the voice out of his bruised throat. 'Destination is an unnamed planet with sizable volcanic activity. Visibility will be low, it looks like an ash world.' He reached up and flicked another switch, changing the trajectory of the War Goddess to follow the heat trail. 'Planet fall in ten minutes. Might be a good idea to get suited up.'

  'Already ahead of you.'

  Arrathnar stood in the doorway, pulling on the almost elegant combat plating that the Harathdans favoured. What little of her milky skin left to show gained an almost luminescent quality in the sickly green of the cockpit instruments.

  'You're going out there?' Carl asked incredulously.

  'Yes,' she said bluntly, securing her armour in place with heavy duty fasteners. 'And you are coming too.'

  Carl held up his hands in protest. 'No can do,' he said. 'Someone has to stay with the ship. If they catch the War Goddess unguarded, then we can wave goodbye to ever getting off planet.'

  'We are going to need as many guns on the ground as possible,' Arrathnar said. 'If we are outnumbered by their ships, we are no doubt going to be outnumbered by their crew.' She paused for a second, studying Carl's face. 'Besides, Nelson can take of that.'

  'What?' Carl muttered under his breath. 'You're going to trust our ship to an AI? An AI that crashed the Indomitable?' He looked past her, ensuring the AI was not anywhere nearby. He lowered his voice. 'You were the first to say we can't trust the military. Who's to say it's not under some kind of control or command from them?'

  Arrathnar shrugged. 'I do not see that we have a choice, Carl. The logic that was placed within the AI construct, as with all of them, is of a strict nature. They do not having feelings or loyalty. Their only purpose is to perform their tasks better than any organic organism can. Nelson was ordered to crash the Indomitable, not the War Goddess.' She cocked her head to one side. 'Are you really worried about an AI when soon we will be facing the enemy?'

  She's got a point. He remembered being told about the numerous stress tests that any AI had to be put through to ensure it was fit to be deployed. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. He looked up at her. 'I still don't think it's a good idea to leave an unsupervised AI on board,' he said. 'I think I'd rather leave her undefended.' He stopped for a second, frowning, as something about the situation jarred his brain. 'Since when did you give the orders on this ship?' he said, a barbed edge tinting his words.

  'I have already spoken to your superiors,' she said. 'They agree with me. We need as many guns out there as possible. We must concentrate on getting the stone, anything else is secondary.' She held a stony silence for a moment. 'I thought you wanted to catch those who killed the New England? I doubt you will be able to do that sat in a ship.'

  Carl grimaced at her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but the shrill cry of the planet proximity alarm interrupted him. He swiveled back to his console. 'Grab a seat,' he said. 'We're about to start the descent.'

  The War Goddess rocked as it touched down roughly onto the planet surface. Carl squinted at the external cameras, the lifeless and grey landscape that had been obscured by a thick rain of ash revealed itself. He switched the cameras off. Never anywhere nice.

  He jumped out of his seat and made his way through the corridors of the War Goddess, descending the ladder to the drop bay. The entire crew were present, pulling on helmets and securing combat plating. He glanced at Hawke. It was the first time he had seen him since their run in. His stomach lurched.

  Hawke caught his glance and held his gaze for a moment. 'Good, you're here,' he said. He threw Carl his combat jacket.

  Carl snatched the jacket out of the air and slung it on. 'Are you sure about leaving the AI on here unsupervised?'

  'It's not unsupervised,' Hawke said. 'I'm staying with the ship.'

  'What?'

  Justinia stepped forward. 'Hawke and I discussed it earlier,' she said. 'After Hawke's...outburst, we think it would be best for him to stay with the ship, keep an eye on things from back here.'

  Carl glanced between them. 'Not wanting to question such decisions, but do you even know how to fly this thing?'

  A grin curled Hawke's lips. 'Don't worry, Goban,' he said. 'I used to fly her myself, a long time ago. I've got the AI to fill in the gaps.' He passed Carl his helmet. 'Besides, it wouldn't be right to catch the bastards while you're stuck here watching scanners and monitors.'

  That lurching feeling returned. This time it was not directed towards Hawke, but to the idea of coming face to face with the person responsible for destroying the New England. 'Sure,' he nodded back. 'Thanks.'

  'Don't worry, Carl,' Watts said with a beaming grin. 'I'll make sure I save some of them for you.' He slotted a fre
sh clip into his rifle with a heavy clunk.

  'Can we not lose sight of what we are here for?' Arrathnar said, rising above them as she stood from her seat on top of a cargo crate. 'We need that stone, at any cost.'

  Carl looked around the room, grim expressions painting every face. 'We'll get it,' he said. The others shook their heads vigorously in agreement.

  'Of course we will,' Justinia said, swinging her rifle up into a two handed grip. 'We're the Space Bastards, remember?'

  Carl grinned back. A feeling of camaraderie filled him at those words, a sense of warmth that came from the stoking of the burning coals within him.

  'Good luck,' Hawke said. He took the clip out of his rifle and tossed it across the room to Carl, who snatched it out of the air. 'Give them a few rounds from me.' He clambered back up the ladder into the belly of the ship and sealed the hatch.

  The drop bay door lurched open, hot ash scattering across the floor the ship, as it offered the crew to the world outside. The view was not much different from the external cameras. Ash rained down, thick and heavy, covering the landscape ahead of them. Carl stepped forward into the world of grey, the carpet of ash rising to the tops of his shins. His communication unit squawked into life.

  'Hawke here. Looks like the scanners have found the Hell Hammer. Can you see a hill anywhere? Should be larger than the others.'

  Carl struggled to pick out any definition from the view in front of him, and could not make out neither an incline or a crevasse. The grey blanket which covered everything caused the world to blend with itself, the land and sky seemingly merging into one. The occasional burst of brilliant red could be seen, magma bursting through the surface of distant super-volcanoes.

  'Got it,' Watts said. He pointed the rest of the crew towards the hill as he spoke. The outline occasionally revealed itself in the glow of magma from the volcano behind it. 'What are we looking for?'