Traitors of Sol: Part One of the Sol Sequence

by J Porteous

  'They made me,' she muttered between sobs. 'They made me do it, Carl. You have to believe me.'

  'They made you?' he snorted with derision. 'What exactly did they make you do? Maybe you can tell me who they are?'

  She hesitated for a moment, looking around as a child looks for an acknowledgment from a parent that everything is going to be okay. She muttered something under her breath then looked up at Carl. 'Take my combat jacket off.'

  Carl raised an eyebrow. 'What? Why?'

  'I can't...' Rix lifted her crushed hand with a whimper, her fingers hanging limp from it. 'I can't do it myself.' She looked up at Carl. Her sorrowful eyes ate at him. 'Please.'

  A pang of guilt hit Carl, which he quickly hated himself for. He nodded to Arrathnar, who reached over and unbuckled Rix's combat jacket. Whatever was underneath it, it caused her eyes to widen. She glanced up at Carl and shook her head. Carl stood and walked behind Rix.

  Her back was a myriad of scarring, but one stood out more than the rest. A large, almost claw-shaped mark was imprinted onto the top of her back. The scarring ran down her one arm. That explains the bandage. She knelt there with shoulders slumped, truly and utterly defeated. 'They made me,' she muttered again, her heavy sobs returning.

  Carl knelt in front of her, placing a hand softly on her head, allowing himself to slowly stroke her hair. 'Rix. What happened? You need to tell me.'

  She looked up with bloodshot eyes, face streaked with fresh tears. 'They speak to you, promise you things. They let you have it, if only for a moment. They make you want more.' She paused for a moment. 'Your captain should know.'

  Arrathnar knelt down next to Carl. 'What do you mean they speak to you?' she said. 'How? Some kind of telepathy?'

  Rix rolled her eyes back. 'It's while you sleep, at first. Then you start hearing things while you are awake, getting headaches, until you can't stand it any more.' She slumped over against the desk next to her.

  Carl grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. 'Focus, Rix, we need to know this.'

  She looked sideways at him, unable to bring herself to face him. 'I tried to warn you, Carl, I told you to call them. I told you to call them.'

  'You knew about this back then?' Carl said, pain cracking his voice. 'This was the mission you were on?

  She nodded slowly and let her head drop, her body shaking with sobs. 'I'm so sorry.'

  Carl stood, taking a couple of steps backwards. Is this even the girl I grew up with? Rix knew the hard way of the value of family. 'Why?' he muttered. 'Why did you do it?'

  'They showed me them,' she said, eyes not leaving the floor. 'My parents. They showed me another time-line, a place where they were happy and alive.' She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. They brimmed with tears. 'They said I could be with them again, Carl. I just had to help them.'

  'By massacring a mining crew?' Carl spat. 'A crew you knew my parents flew with? A crew you grew up with?' An intense rage boiled within him, threatening to erupt to the surface. He balled his fists. 'They were defenceless Rix, defenceless.'

  'No,' she snapped, pulling herself slowly to her feet and leaning heavily on the desk next to her. 'They just said they wanted the stone, nothing else. I didn't know this would happen. I didn't know the mercs would do that.'

  Arrathnar grabbed a chair and slid it under Rix, slowly lowering her broken frame into it. 'Did they tell you what they wanted with the the stones?'

  Rix shook her head, her hair sticking to her face with sweat and blood.

  Arrathnar placed her hand on top of Rix's. 'If you know anything, anything at all, we need to know.'

  Her face softened slightly. 'They said they were multi-dimensional, that they could travel between variations of our world.' She paused for a second, catching her breath. 'They said they would let me be with them, my parents, a place where they didn't die.'

  'Did they say what they wanted the stones for?' Arrathnar repeated.

  Rix shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'Only that once they had the stone that I would be allowed to go with my parents.' Tears rolled down her cheeks again. She glanced back at Carl. 'We got the stone but they didn't take me.' Her head dropped to her chest. 'They didn't take me...'

  'You know what it's like to lose your parents,' Carl said, through gritted teeth. 'How could you do this? They brought you up as much as they did me.'

  Her head snapped up to meet his. 'It's not the same,' Rix growled. 'Your parents brought me up, not mine.' She glanced at something to the side of Carl.

  Carl slowly let his gaze leave Rix and looked behind himself. Nothing. He frowned. 'What are you-'

  In a quick burst of action, Arrathnar barreled into him, knocking them both to the floor. Carl looked up to see Rix pointing the mercenary's hand cannon at him. He shrugged Arrathnar off and stood slowly, hands held up towards Rix. 'Rix, this isn't the way to do things, there doesn't need to be any more deaths.' He held a hand towards her. 'Give me the weapon.'

  Her face contorted with pain, screwing up as tears streamed from her eyes. 'I can see my parents again,' she said, forcing the words past the lump that crowded her throat. 'I will see them again.' She shook the hand cannon for emphasis. Rix pointed the hand cannon at Arrathnar, who was shouldering her rifle from the floor. 'Don't even think about it,' Rix stuttered. Arrathnar dropped the rifle, raising her hands away from it.

  'There has got to be another way,' Carl said. 'You can help us, come with us.'

  'No,' Rix said, shaking her head violently. 'Don't you understand? Once they have you, they won't let you go. This is the only way.' She stared wildly for a moment, an animalistic desperation in her eyes. She locked her gaze with Carl's. 'Forgive me, Gobbo.' She bit her lip hard. 'I never wanted it to be like this.'

  Carl closed his eyes and looked away, waiting for the inevitable punch of a round. A shot rang out, the sound echoing off of the enclosed walls. Carl ducked instinctively, covering his ears at the deafening noise. He glanced down at himself. No pain, no holes. He looked up and saw why.

  Rix led splayed out on the floor. A ruinous mess took the place of her face, her hand still clenching the hand cannon. Carl lurched to his feet, the wind knocked from his stomach, his lungs struggling for air. He fell to his knees and crawled towards her still body. 'Rix?' he muttered. 'Rix?' He placed a hand on her arm, laying her out straight in the blood that rapidly pooled around her. 'Surely there was another way?' he said quietly. 'Did it really have to come to this?' The anger inside him drained away, replaced with an aching loss. His limbs became powerless and weak.

  'The Kalindros are powerful,' Arrathnar said, somewhere behind him. 'To drive a person to this, they must weigh heavy upon them.'

  Carl gently placed a hand on Rix's still body. Arrathnar is right. 'I don't blame you, Rix,' he said to the body in front of him. 'You didn't do this. They did.' He sat in silence and sobbed.

  'Carl, we need to go.'

  He did not turn around. He was powerless, lost in a life in no longer knew. Strong hands gripped him under his arms and lifted him to his feet. He turned to Arrathnar, letting himself fall into her arms.

  Blackness. That was the best way to describe it. The scene that surrounded them melted away until it was only the two of them stood together. The pheromones, Carl thought. The thought soon drifted away, replaced by a feeling of utter calm and kindness.

  'I am sorry for your loss,' Arrathnar whispered, her voice like a cool breeze. 'You are a good soul, undeserving of such events.'

  Carl smiled and sighed contently. Where was he? How did he get here? None of that mattered. All that mattered was the two of them; it was all he could see in the darkness.

  'We cannot stay here,' Arrathnar said. 'Not now.'

  'Where are we?'

  'We are inside us,' Arrathnar replied. 'It is not a safe place to be right now.'

  The words Rix had said echoed back to him. 'Hawke,' he said softly.

  Arrathnar's face grew grim. She unwrapped her arms from around him, the cockpit of the Hell Hammer ble
eding back into view. 'If the Kalindros are as powerful as Rix said, then we cannot trust anyone with the mark.' She cocked her weapon. 'Come on, Carl, we still need to fight for those who still live.'

  Carl snapped back into the room, breaking free of his stupor. He tore his eyes away from Rix, wiping his eyes clear. He stood there for a moment, listening. Complete silence? He could tell by the look on Arrathnar's face that she had noticed the same. Without another word, Carl grabbed his rifle and raced back through the corridors of the Hell Hammer, dropping through the access hatch and into the drop bay. He looked out, only to be greeted by a scene of devastation before him.

  Bodies led strewn across the ash wastes. Some troopers were already covered, looking as if they were ghastly statues toppled to the ground. Others peered out from their helmets, faces frozen in their last moments. The Combat Synth lay broken in half, its torso shattered by a mighty blast. The other two Starblades led dormant in the crater.

  'They really gave them a fight,' Arrathnar said, surveying the bodies stretching out before them.

  Carl looked upon the scene. Nothing moved. The stillness of the scene felt strangely serene, almost matching the experience he just broke free of. After the noise and chaos of battle, it was an odd scene.

  'Over there,' Arrathnar said, pointing towards two figures still moving. One of them was slumped to the floor, the other shaking them.

  'Come on,' Carl said. 'I won't lose anyone else today.' He slung his weapon over his back and powered his way through the ash towards the figures ahead.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hawke

  Hawke peered through the external cameras and onto the landscape below, watching four figures illuminated in the strobe of gun fire. I should be down there with them. Something resonated inside him from the battle below. A presence, but of what he could not put his finger on it.

  He turned back to Nelson, who stood connected to the navigation terminal. I'm really doing this? Trusting an AI to fly my ship after it crashed another? He recalled Arrathnar's words. Get the stone, at any cost. He shared her view, even if not for the same reasons. So far the ship was flying, he would give the AI that much credit. He leaned forward, looking through the view-port, the enemy Starblade quickly disappearing through the thick rain of ash.

  'The Starblade is a far superior ship to the War Goddess,' Nelson said, its deadpan tone struggling to cut through the roar of the straining engines. 'If they keep gaining speed and height, we will be unable to stop them.'

  'Tell me something I don't know,' Hawke snapped. He swiveled his chair and made steps for the doorway. 'I'm hitting up the cannons, we'll bring them down.'

  Hawke stumbled along the corridor, the ship weaving to and fro as Nelson navigated it through the steep peaks of the planet. He clasped himself onto the ladder to the gun hatch and hauled himself up, each jostle threatening to throw him back down. Finally, he clambered into the seat and strapped himself firmly in place. 'I'm here,' Hawke shouted over the din of the air that buffered the turret's dome. 'Send power to the weapons.'

  The panel in front of him lit up. The armoured plating of the dome folded back haphazardly to reveal a barrage of swirling ash smashing itself upon the hull of the ship. He gripped the trigger-stick in front of him and centred the clunky twin barrels towards the Starblade as it swerved around mountain peaks.

  'Captain Sparov,' Nelson said. The Synth's voice sounded even more distorted through the intercom system. 'The target is 598 metres ahead, and rapidly gaining distance.'

  Hawke squinted through the haze of falling ash. Something danced through the air. A ghost of a silhouette, bouncing around to avoid the peaks, which themselves emerged quickly out of the ash ahead. Hawke gritted his teeth. You're not getting away without a fight.

  He squeezed his fingers tightly around the triggers, knuckles whitening at his grip. Rounds disappeared into the haze ahead, the occasional spark confirming the shots had hit home. The Starblade quickly descended into the grey gloom below, dropping out of sight entirely.

  'Get us down there,' Hawke yelled into the intercom. 'We can't lose them, not now.'

  The War Goddess dipped down nose first into the unknown, the grey gloom giving way to a warm orange glow. The shroud of ash quickly disintegrated , bursting into flame as it descended ever downwards towards the planet surface.

  The already stifling heat of the War Goddess fast became unbearable, and the disappearance of ash allowed Hawke to see why. Long-running rivers of magma coursed through deep canyons, the constant flows from the super-volcanoes slowly eroded their way towards the core of the planet. He gazed down upon it, as if looking straight into the gates of the Abyss itself.

  'Starblade detected, Captain Sparov.'

  His eyes snapped forward, catching the Starblade as it made a hard turn to avoid colliding with a sheer rock face. 'Keep after it,' Hawke ordered, swinging the turret into position in preparation for the next run.

  The Starblade was a newer ship, easily outpacing the aging War Goddess. Nelson fought hard to match the maneuvers it made. Hawke winced as the War Goddess lurched violently into a harsh turn, the ship only narrowly scraping past the sheer rock face. He opened his eyes once he felt the ship level out. The next canyon was straighter, longer, which meant the Starblade was now trapped in the open. Now I've got you.

  Hawke gripped the triggers, sending round after round towards the ship. Sparks flew, and pieces of metal bounced over his turret dome as the cannons ripped holes in the ship ahead. The Starblade juddered and started to sharply ascend.

  'Captain Sparov,' Nelson said. 'The Starblade is making for an exit trajectory. Once it hits escape speed there will be no way to catch it.'

  Hawke cursed under his breath. We need that ship. I need that ship. There was no way that the ship cannons would take it down in time; the armour plating on the Starblade would take a lot more punishment before it would come down. The hull busters. 'Nelson,' Hawke said. 'You know how to deploy the hull busters?'

  'Yes, Captain Sparov, my AI core is familiar with all types of ship related weaponry.'

  'Good,' Hawke said. 'Punch a hole in those bastards.'

  'Captain Sparov,' Nelson said. 'Any hull buster type explosive is designed to penetrate cruiser-class armour. Using it on fighter-class armour could disintegrate the ship and its cargo-'

  'Just do it,' Hawke yelled back, watching the Starblade as it disappeared into the ash clouds above. 'We don't really have any other options here.'

  'Yes, Captain Sparov. Target locked.'

  A loud thud punched through Hawke's gut. He watched the hull buster disappear into the ash cloud, racing behind the now invisible Starblade. He waited in silence, knuckles whitening as he clenched the joystick. Come on, come on. The grey blankness of the sky above gave way, if only for a moment, to a brilliant flash of light. Hawke slammed the intercom. 'Tell me that's a hit?'

  'Confirmed, Captain Sparov. The hull buster clipped the thruster, the hull is intact.'

  A grin spread over his face. Hawke unbuckled himself from the turret seat. 'Track it,' he said. 'Wherever it hits, land on those coordinates.' He slid down the ladder and powered towards the cockpit.

  Nelson turned away from the navigation console as he arrived. 'The ship has made planet fall. Impact it one kilometre away. Status of the ship is unknown.'

  'Get us down there, I'm suiting up.'

  Hawke stepped out on to the surface, the soft ash compressing under the weight of his boots. Ahead of him led what remained of the Starblade. The hull buster had cracked the ship in half, ripping the thrusters clean off the ship, letting the hull crash violently into the planet. Ash already threatened to cover the remains of the ship, the outline quickly merging with the ground around it. Got to move quickly.

  He burst forward towards the ship, making it to the dim light which spilled from the ajar drop bay door before it was smothered. He pressed his helmet as close as he could, peering inside. Emergency lighting swamped the drop bay in a deep red glow, matc
hing the veins of magma that traced the surface of the planet. Hawke clasped his fingers into the gap, struggling to find purchase. He found a handhold and heaved the door open, the dying ship groaning as he wrenched it open wide enough to slip within.

  What a mess. The drop bay and the corridor leading deeper within the ship were pierced with shrapnel. The force of the thrusters exploding had sent hot metal flying like lances to impale the ship. Two bodies led crumpled on the floor, dressed in standard military outfits, although stripped of any further identification. They led motionless, dead men within a dying ship.

  Hawke stepped over them and moved further down the corridor. He entered the cockpit to see a trooper slumped over in the pilot's chair, a slight movement to his body. Something stopped Hawke in his tracks.

  The feeling of presence returned, emanating from the trooper slouched at his desk. I can feel him, Hawke thought. I can feel him breathing, feel his dim clutch to life. He shook his head, trying to rid the thoughts from his mind. Hawke pulled the man back in his seat. The trooper emitting a loud groan, pain dragging him back into the realm of the conscious. 'Want to tell me where the stone is?' Hawke growled.

  The trooper wheezed heavily. 'Fuck...you.'

  'Not what either of us wanted to hear.' Hawke looked down at the limp man. A jagged piece of metal had burst through the back of his chair, having sliced through the door to the cockpit, and was nestled deep within the man's now punctured gut. Hawke placed a firm grip around it and twisted. The man screamed. 'Where is the stone?' he repeated. 'You don't want to make me ask again.'

  The trooper weakly raised his left hand, a trembling finger attempting to point towards a plain metal box strapped underneath his desk.

  Hawke released his grip and the trooper slumped back into his chair with a moan. 'Don't go anywhere.' Hawke fumbled under the desk, grasped the box, and pulled it into the blood red emergency lighting of the cockpit. The heavy clasps, with some rough persuasion, gave way and the box cracked open. Another stone. Something inside of him flickered, something he could not quite describe, and an image of Daria flashed in his mind. He quickly shut the case, as if hiding it from prying eyes.