by J Porteous
'Fair point.'
They sat waiting in the semi-darkness, watching the ebb and flow of clientele around them. Most chatted secretly in dark corners, hiding themselves away from prying eyes and ears. The drifters were the most animated. Some of them shouted at each other, danced around the tables or just drank themselves towards oblivion. Hawke watched them, a small smile tugging his lips.
'What's funny?'
He glanced over to Justinia, who sat staring at him intensely. 'Just reminds me of that first meeting with Dareth, that's all.'
She looked about, the same knowing smile spreading to her. 'Watts did like his shit-holes, didn't he? He would have loved this entire station.'
Hawke laughed to himself and turned his eyes back to the crowd. Something touched his hand. He looked back to Justinia, who was reaching across the table, her hand gently resting on his arm.
'Hawke,' she said. 'I'm worried. We're all worried.'
'About what?' he said, before the realisation dawned on him. He shook his head. 'Don't go getting soppy, Justinia, not now.' He pulled his arm back in towards his chest.
She looked to the table in defeat, a loud sigh passing her lips. She looked back up, her eyes taking on a new tone, an element of steel holding them strong. 'If I don't speak now, I don't know if there ever will be a chance. I might be dead. We all might be dead.'
Hawke crossed his arms and looked around the room. 'What are you talking about?'
She stifled a small cough. 'Your scar, Hawke. Your brand.'
Hawke felt his veins flaring, adrenaline surging through him. Play dumb old man, he told himself. 'What about it?' he said, letting his voice fall flat.
Justinia pulled her chair in closer to the table, resting her weight on it. 'They talk to you, don't they? The Kalindros?'
Hawke froze. He returned her hard stare as best as he could. It was useless. His shoulders slumped and his gaze dropped from hers. 'What do you know?'
Her face wavered slightly, as something was confirmed to her that she did not wish to be true. She cleared her throat and composed herself. 'Not much,' she said. 'Only that they talk to you, and that they promise you things.' She glanced over his shoulder to check the table again. 'I don't know what they're promising you, but they are lying, Hawke. You know that, don't you?'
Hawke sat back, blowing air from his mouth. An irrational anger rose in him at her words. How does she know that they lie? He straightened himself up in his seat. 'What makes you say that?'
Justinia relaxed a little, shoulders dropping. 'Back on the ash planet, when Carl and Arrathnar boarded the Hell Hammer to stop it taking off-'
'When you and Watts were left outside to fight? When Watts died?'
'Yes,' she said, chewing her lip. 'That's not the point though. When Carl boarded the Hell Hammer, one of the troopers was Rix.'
'Rix?'
'The trooper Carl knew. The one you told him not to contact.'
A twinge of guilt manifested in his mind. 'Why didn't he mention anything?'
Justinia shook her head. 'I don't know. After you throttled him, I imagine that shook his faith in you a little.' She leaned closer to him. 'She had been touched by the Kalindros as well. They had made promises to her, promises that she had made good on. They didn't honour them.'
'She had encountered them too?' Something in Hawke's mind came together. That pulse of presence. Was that what I felt above the battlefield? It matched the feeling of the downed pilot. He swallowed hard. 'What happened?'
'She blew her own brains out all over the cockpit.'
Hawke sat back, his mind ablaze with clashing thoughts. Surely they wouldn't lie to me? After all they have shown me, all they have gifted me? After all, Nelson has all but confirmed it to me. They must surely have the power they talk of? He sighed, as if doing so would release the pressure that was building inside of his skull. It did not work. He looked up at Justinia. How could I even think of betraying her? Betraying the rest of the crew? Surely Sherlock and Watts have not died for this? His mind drifted back to the pilot on the downed Starblade, and how he had told him the same thing. He opened his mouth to speak of it, before noticing that Justinia was not watching him. Her gaze was fixed at something over his shoulder. 'What is it?'
Her eyes flicked between his eyes and something behind him. 'I think this is the proxy.'
Hawke fought the urge to turn around. 'What's happening?'
Justinia let her eyes wander over the scene. 'She's buying two drinks. She's sitting at the table as we were told.'
'Any distinguishing marks, uniforms?'
Justinia stared intently. 'None. Not that I can see. Looks nervous though.'
'Alright,' Hawke said, the adrenaline surge coming back to him. This time I might have a use for it. 'If anyone tries to intervene, keep them back. I'll move around to flank them.'
Justinia nodded back in response. 'Should be easy, no one else has entered.'
'Let's move.'
Hawke stood abruptly, keeping his head low and in the shadows as he approached, snaking his way around seats and drunkards. He swept along the bar, dancing around a pair of drifters rowing over whose round it was. The table appeared in front of him, the proxy sat facing away from him. He brought a hand down firmly on the woman's arm, holding her in place. 'Expecting somebody?'
The woman jumped, but Hawke's firm grip held her in place. 'Let go of me, please,' she said. 'There is no trouble to be caused here.'
Something about the voice sounded familiar, dredging something from Hawke's mind, but the adrenaline that surged through him blinded any thoughts. 'Promise not to run. I just want to talk.'
She nodded slowly and carefully.
'Good.' Hawke glanced up to see Justinia moving in front of the proxy, giving him an acknowledgment. He loosened his grip and stepped slowly around the table, pulling the seat out.
'Zura was right then?'
Hawke locked eyes with the proxy. The memory that had been swamped in adrenaline came fighting to the surface, pushing to the forefront of his mind. She had changed, although not beyond recognition. Her brown hair had become flecked with grey, the pale skin around her eyes now holding dark marks. Those green eyes though, those fierce green eyes, they were unmistakable. 'Daria?'
She steadily held his gaze. 'I thought you were dead.' Her green eyes burned into him. She sat back in her seat and relaxed slightly. 'All of these years you've been surviving out in the depths of the universe.' A conflict of emotions pooled in her eyes. 'I thought they had killed you for sure this time.'
Her words bypassed him. 'Daria, I've been wanting to talk to you for so long.' Hawke fought to find any kind of words. 'I...I didn't betray the Council.'
'I know that, Hawke,' she said. 'I don't care about the Council. I did at first, but now I understand.'
'Then you know I was framed? You know that Zura set me up and exiled me? So he could extend his control of the military? We can be together again, Daria. Me, you, and Elpis.'
Daria's face straightened. 'Elpis. You know then?'
Hawke's heart swelled at the confirmation. 'Daria,' he said. 'I don't know what you've been told, but it wasn't what it seemed-'
'And I've already said that I know,' she said, raising her voice. 'Don't you see what is happening around you, around everyone?' She raised her hand to silence him as she saw his mouth open. 'There are bigger things at play than us. They are a threat to us all.' She turned to Justinia. 'Troopers will be here any second, I'd advise that you let me go.'
Justinia looked over at Hawke, a thousand questions in her eyes.
Hawke nodded back. 'Release her.' His hand shot out and grabbed Daria's across the table. 'I know what we are up against, I understand the threat. Does that mean we can't be together?'
Daria looked down, thawing at the sight and feel of Hawke's hand over hers. 'Oh, Hawke,' she said. 'We had such a good life.' She turned around to check the entrance. 'Elpis. How do you know?'
A question burst from the depths of his mind.
He frowned. 'How do you know about them?'
'Them? You mean the ones that have marked you?' She arched an eyebrow. 'How do you think? Zura told me.'
His stomach lurched. Hawke thought of something to say, but nothing came to mind. A commotion came from the door, causing him to glance over. A drifter stumbled back and fell to the ground as five troopers barged through the doorway, motioning to the table where they sat. Hawke clutched Daria's hand. 'Daria, please. I can make this right, I can. Just give me something, anything.'
'I want to believe you, Hawke, I really do,' Her eyes tracked the troopers coming across the room to them. She chewed her lip and looked at Hawke. 'In fact, you can prove it. Solitude. Caspian System. Perhaps there you will understand what has been done.' She wrenched her hand away as the troopers arrived.
The tallest trooper stood beside Daria menacingly. 'Is everything okay here?'
Hawke kept his head down, letting the shadow disguise him.
Daria caught Hawke's eye then looked towards the troopers. 'Yes. Everything's fine.'
'Good,' the trooper said, his gaze passing over Justinia and Hawke. 'We need to go.'
Hawke sat and watched as Daria walked away. Wrenched out of my life for a second time. He let his eyes follow her, taking in as much of her as he could. She was about to disappear through the doorway when she turned and gave him one last glance, a glance that pierced him to his shattered core. He slumped at the table, holding his head in his hands. How could she have been so cold to me? He had thought about meeting her again for years. It was never as uncomfortable as this. It was so much different from what the Kalindros showed him each night.
'Want to tell me what that was about?'
Hawke looked up to see Justinia stood over him. 'Come on,' he said, forcing himself to stand. 'We need to go. I'll explain on the way.'
Hawke meandered back to the ship, letting the flow of people in the market guide his route. Everything felt numb. Even though the crowd bustled and crashed against him, he hardly felt the press of people against him. Daria had at least confirmed one truth to him. Elpis. Did Daria truly mean it when she told him that he could still make things right, or did those words simply come out of pity? How old would Elpis even be now? Would she feel the same way about him that Daria did? He did not think he could cope with both of them cold to him. A hard nudge from behind brought him back to the present.
'So are you going to tell me, or what?'
He looked back at Justinia. The crowd was dying down now. They were able to speak without shouting this close to the docking bays. He did not know how to say it, so just let it blurt out. 'The proxy. She was Daria. My wife.'
Justinia stopped in her tracks, her face painted with confusion, trying to search for words. 'Your...your wife? From...before?'
Hawke nodded. 'Yeah.' He ran a hand down his face and shook his head. 'It wasn't meant to be this way...'
'Not meant to be this way?' Justinia said. 'After what happened with the Council, I'm surprised it went that well. They don't call you the Traitor of Sol for nothing. Imagine the hounding she had from galactic press after that had happened.'
'It's not like that.'
Justinia grabbed his arm. 'Then what is it like?'
'I didn't do it.' Hawke walked on, not looking back to see Justinia's face. 'I was framed.'
Justinia rushed to move alongside of him. 'Hawke, are you serious?' She grabbed his shoulder, spinning him to face her. 'Your humour isn't great at the best of times, but this really isn't funny.'
Hawke let his eyes drift to hers. 'It's not a joke, Justinia. Captain Sparov of the Space Bastards? The Traitor of Sol? Just a lie. A scapegoat. A bad guy to point the finger of blame at. Someone to give the population of Callisto a hate figure. A fall guy to allow Zura to extend his filthy grasp for power.'
Justinia stood staring for a moment, trying to process what was just said. 'So Zura staged it? No wonder you went berserk when Nelson placed Carl and him together. How could he get away with it?' She rubbed her hands over her smooth scalp and shook her head. 'And you let them get away with it?' She blew out a hard breath. 'I can't believe it, Hawke. You know who did it and yet you do nothing? That doesn't sound like the Hawke I know.'
'That's because the Hawke you know isn't real,' he said sharply. He let his eyes bore into her for a moment then shook his head. 'Shit...I'm sorry Justinia. You don't think I wanted to make him pay? He is untouchable. He threatened to kill Daria if I ever returned to Sol. It was part of our deal. As long as I didn't return, he promised me that he would protect her in my absence. A confirmation of his guilt.'
'Well, she's not dead, we know that much.' Justinia said. 'Admiral Zura,' she mused. 'The so called Defender of Humanity.'
Hawke nodded silently. 'The title he was given for exiling me, for avenging the Council of Sol.' The War Goddess loomed in front of them. 'Let's get out of here. I'm not in the mood for questions right now.'
Justinia shook her head. 'Never did like that creep. I always thought the self righteous bastard was too pious to be true. Giving yourself a title like Defender of Humanity? What a prick.'
Hawke grinned to himself at that sentiment.
Justinia let him have a moment. 'So...any idea what she meant by Solitude? The Caspian system isn't too far from here.'
He shrugged. 'I don't know. That's why we are heading there right now.'
The drop bay ramp descended in front of them. Justinia beamed a smile. 'Now that sounds like the Hawke I know.'
Chapter Seventeen
Carl
Carl looked over the balcony, legs going weak as he looked down onto one of the docking bays of the Winter Dawn. Calling it a docking bay felt like a serious understatement. The room stretched high above him, as well as below, big enough to house ten super cruisers in depth and width.
He strained his eyes, the loading bay crew on the opposite wall appearing to him as small insects would. Left on the station without Justinia and Hawke, he set about taking in the sights of the Harathdan Chapter ship and, much to his annoyance, getting to know their latest addition.
'And they say the religious aren't interested in material assets.' Bjarke's large figure appeared next to him. 'I must admit,' the burly man said, looking around the room, 'I've seen Nero cruisers less grand than this thing.'
A docking alarm rang out, and red lights flashed around a section of the bay where another mercenary ship was coming to land. Carl watched as a ship emerged into the bright lights of the docking bay. It was a fierce looking fighter, bristling with weaponry and bolted on armour plates. 'Looks like someone is answering the call to council.'
Bjarke let the side of the balcony take his weight. 'They better had,' he said. 'Those who don't answer a UEMC are expelled from the guild.' A fiendish grin spread over his face. 'That means they are fair game for the rest of us.'
Carl kept his face straight, not wanting to appear daunted by the large man, as he looked up to meet his glare. 'And that's a good thing, is it?'
Bjarke nodded towards the ship touching down on the docking pad. 'Some of these ships have got some high end gear. Pulverisers, gatling guns, armour lancers. Always cheaper to salvage that kind of gear than to pay for it.' His low, throaty laugh rattled him. 'You think they bought it in the first place?'
'You've just got to wait for them to slip up then?' Carl said, glancing away. 'And I thought there was only honour among thieves.'
Bjarke laughed again. 'There's no honour among men who steal, Carl. But men who kill? There's something to be said for those men. Maybe not honour, but a certain respect for others on the battlefield. Next time you shoot a man between the eyes, hold his gaze for a moment. You will see respect beneath the fear.'
Carl fought hard to not let his voice quaver. 'Is that why you beat Hawke half to death? Why you knocked Justinia unconscious when she couldn't even fight back?'
Bjarke stood straight, towering over Carl even more than he did when stooped. 'That was different.' He ground his teeth then brea
thed out a loud sigh. 'I'm not proud to admit it, but I think we were fucked over. The Sons, I mean. We were told the contract we had was sanctioned by the guild. Had the correct signatures and everything. If that isn't true, I'll have to answer to the Mercenary Council when they are gathered. I don't expect them to go easy on me. Maybe you understand the severity of that now?'
Carl thought he did. He nodded a quick response. 'Do you still think that it came from the council?'
Bjarke shook his head. 'If Hawke had known he had committed an offense that severe, he wouldn't have taken me with you. He would have left me to rot on with the Valkyrie.' He played absentmindedly with the shell casings in his beard. 'Either that or he would have killed me on the War Goddess. No. No, I don't think the contract was officially sanctioned, not anymore. I think it was fixed by someone who wanted your crew out of the way, once they realised what trouble you were. It pains me to think of myself tricked like that. Not for myself. For my crew.' The great man stood silent, looking out at the docking bay as another ship arrived.
Carl almost gave the man some council, before considering that Bjarke was probably not the kind of man to offer soft words to. 'At least with the mercenary fleet we may be able to get some level of justice.'
Bjarke snorted. 'Maybe,' he said. 'Even without them, I'll ride into the Abyss by myself if I have to.'
A pang of hopelessness ate away at Carl's stomach. 'You don't think they will support Hawke's claim?'
'He may be a member of the Council, but he's still going to need to convince them. I mean, come on, huge lizards capable of ripping a crew apart? I'd call bullshit on it myself if I hadn't seen it first hand.'
Carl arched and eyebrow. 'Hawke's a member of the council?'
'Yeah, which explains the severity of the contract.' Bjarke almost looked surprised. 'You didn't know?'
Carl's intercom beeped. He glanced at it in annoyance. Not now. It beeped again. He pulled it to his ear abruptly. 'Hello?'
'Ex-serviceman Goban. This is Nelson. I've detected a dark matter anomaly nearby.'
