by J Porteous
Arrathnar shrugged. 'We do not know, not until we try it at least. All I know is that it is the best chance we have got.'
'It better work,' Watts said. He leant back against the wall and crossed his arms. 'We almost got our asses blown to pieces getting this thing.'
Hawke snorted a laugh. 'Sounds like we missed out on quite a show.' He glanced back to the AI core. 'Well, let's hope your effort was worth it. Get it done.'
Arrathnar nodded. 'It will take some time to analyse. How long I am not sure, but the sooner we start, the sooner we get the results.'
'Good,' Hawke said, and stood from his chair.
'There is one thing...' Watts said, his voice leaving an unasked question.
Hawke frowned. 'Just tell me, Dareth.'
Watts smiled sheepishly. 'For the AI core to work, it needs a host. At the moment it is like a brain without a body, it can think, but it can't communicate the findings to us.'
'Let me guess,' Hawke said. 'The Synth?'
Watts nodded. 'The Synth. It's our only option, Hawke.'
'An AI aboard the War Goddess?' Hawke said. 'A Synth will take orders, but a true AI may not be so willing. How can we tell how it's going to react with an AI core inside of it?'
'It is the only chance we have of finding these Kalindros,' Arrathnar said, her voice cool against the heat of Hawke's. 'There is no other way.'
Hawke sucked his lower lip. 'Fine,' he finally muttered. He pointed his finger firmly at Watts. 'Do it, but keep an eye on it. If it shows any signs of aggression, put it down.'
Watts' eyes lit up. 'You got it.'
The internal communication system burst into life. 'Captain?'
Hawke hit the intercom. 'Yes, Rookie?'
'I've got a transmission coming through from the Winter Dawn, you're going to want to hear this.'
'Coming now.'
Hawke left the crew behind and made his way towards the cockpit. He climbed the short ladder to the level above and made his way through the darkened corridors. Many of the lights still needed replacing, leaving pools of shadow to consume some areas of the walkways. He arrived at the cockpit, ducked through the door, and settled beside Carl. 'What have we got, Rookie?'
Carl chucked Hawke the headset. 'Information on another stone, they want us to go collect.'
'Haven't we done enough for them?' Hawke put the headset on. 'Captain Hawke Sparov here.'
'Captain, this is pilot Erudman of the Winter Dawn. I have an important message from the Grand Researcher.'
'So important that he couldn't tell me himself?' Hawke said.
There was a moment of silence. 'Unfortunately, Captain, the Grand Researcher is an extremely busy person and he was adamant I pass this on to you immediately.'
Hawke rolled his eyes. 'Sure. Go ahead.'
'We believe we have located one of the Sender stones in the outer Gradia sector. The planet Mribos is currently being excavated by the mining vessel New England. Reports say that they excavated a strange stone with carvings on it.'
'And what are you going to do about it?'
'Not us, Captain, you. Selengra's deep range scanners will still be picking up the Winter Dawn's signal, whereas a smaller ship such as the War Goddess will have dropped off their radar. We still need to be seen to be heading to Uprion for a Chapter meet.'
'Any excuse,' Hawke muttered to himself. He took a deep breath. 'Tell the Grand Researcher that we'll look into it.'
'Thank you, Captain. Remember the stakes that are at risk here.'
Arrogant prick. 'As always, Edoolman.'
'It is Erudm-'
Hawke passed the headset back to Carl. 'Set new coordinates, Rookie.'
Carl nodded back. 'Where are we looking at, Captain?'
'Set the course for the outer Gradia sector. There's a ship in Mribos, the New England. We need to make contact with.'
Carl stared back at him, face drained of colour.
'What's the matter, Rookie?' A smirk tugged Hawke's face. 'You academy types never seem to like the Gradia sector. It's not swarming with smuggler and pirates like they tell you.'
'No, Captain,' Carl eventually said. 'It's not that.' He cleared his throat. 'The New England. My parents work on that ship.'
Chapter Eleven
Carl
An odd queasiness filled Carl's stomach. What's the New England doing in the outer Gradia sector? The last time Carl had spoke to his parents they had been on the edge of the Redstone galaxy, which was just over ten months of solid travel from the outer Gradia sector. Had it really been that long since he had spoken to them? He placed his head in his hands in an attempt to squeeze some rational thought from his mind.
What am I going to say when I see them? What will they say when they see me with the Space Bastards? There was little doubt in his mind about how dim a light they would view his unexpected career change.
His parents had worked and saved their entire lives to put him through the military academy, and now they would see him working for a mercenary crew, working with those who trade on suffering and violence. He was still a pilot, that much was true, but Carl doubted that would be the main thing his parents took away from the situation.
It was not something any parent would want to see their child grow up to be. He hoped, deep down, that he would avoid them on this trip, and would endeavour to speak to them once safely off the New England.
'Carl?'
He turned to see Arrathnar crouching through the doorway to the cockpit, her milky skin illuminated by the harsh spotlights in the corridor behind her. He sat up and nodded an acknowledgement.
'Your friend did good back there.'
'Rix?' he said, cocking his head to one side. He smiled at the thought of her. 'She's always one to keep her word.'
'A good trait to have.' Arrathnar stood up straight. 'Have you any word from her since? I would hate to think that anything had fallen back on her.'
Carl shook his head. It was not uncommon for troopers on mission to commit to a communication blackout to ensure any objectives were not compromised, accidental or otherwise. 'No. I left a comms for her, but nothing yet.'
Arrathnar turned her head, studying the darkness beyond the spotlights of the corridor for a moment, then turned back to Carl. She stepped forward gracefully, gliding rather than walking. She leant in close to him, her dark eyes swallowing him. 'Can I trust you, Carl?'
'What?' He creased his brow. He played her question back to himself. Is this some kind of test? 'Y...yes,' he stuttered in response. He quickly composed himself. 'I mean, yes, you can.'
She smiled then threw a quick glance back down the hallway again. 'We must be quick, and you must not breathe a word of this to any one, do you understand?'
Carl mouthed a noiseless acknowledgement.
'It is Hawke,' she said. She spoke frankly. 'The mark on his face, we have seen something similar to it before.'
'Seen it before?'
'Yes,' she nodded. 'For the last few months our Researchers have been reporting about Marked ones, or Brands. They are mainly human, perhaps it is just that your physiology is easier to interface with, but they all experience the same thing.'
A frown creased Carl's brow. 'Experience what?'
'They all experience partial to extreme memory loss, and they say that they are spoken to while they sleep. Dreams that are more than dreams. Glimpses of other realities, whispered promises to make them real.'
Hawke doesn't strike me as a dreamer, Carl thought, let alone one that would listen to them. 'With all due respect, he's got a lot of scars. Just another one for the collection by the looks of it.' Carl said. He shrugged. 'Besides, we've checked with Hawke, he said he's fine.'
Her hand shot out and gripped his arm, her surprisingly strong fingers digging into his flesh. 'It is not just another scar,' she hissed. 'He is not fine.' She took a deep breath, stopping herself from raising her voice. 'It is a bond.'
Carl's eyes widened. 'A bond? With that...that thing?'
She
glanced back down the corridor again. 'Yes, with the Kalindros.' She let go of his arm, looking at the red mark she had left. 'They will talk to him, promise him things. We may not be able to trust him with the stones. With anything.'
Carl shook his head. Hawke is too headstrong for such a thing, isn't he? 'Why are you telling me this? Can't we warn the others?'
'The others have too much history with him,' she said. 'They would never question his conduct, never question an order. They would not believe a word I said against him. This is why I need you, Carl.'
'Need me?' Ice crept into his gut.
'I need to know, Carl. If, when, the time comes, when he finally breaks to their promises, I need to know that you can end it.'
'End it? As in-'
'Kill him.' she said, her black eyes boring into him. 'Put a bullet straight between his eyes, in the back of his head if needs be. As I have said before, this is bigger than any of us.'
He had already committed himself to one treasonous act. He could live with the theft of the AI core. To kill Hawke, that was something else. It was a closer betrayal, something more personal. His iced gut now twisted. 'I...I...' Carl stuttered.
She grabbed him again, her long fingers pressing into his shoulders. 'Carl,' she said quietly. 'Promise me. You know the stakes we are up against here. Do not let your morals and loyalty damn the universe, damn everyone you know, for the sake of a man who betrayed his own race.'
Working with Hawke, Carl had almost forgotten that his captain was the man who slew the Sol Councillors. Hawke was a harsh man, that much was certain, but after spending time on the War Goddess, Carl came to the conclusion that betrayal didn't seem to be Hawke's style. Loyalty to the crew, that was Hawke's own words.
He was exiled from Sol for a reason, Carl told himself. He was the Captain of the Council Guard and he betrayed them, you don't get exiled for nothing. He processed these thoughts in an attempt to justify Arrathnar's request. Exactly why Hawke had betrayed the Council, he was unsure, but men had committed the most heinous of crimes for seemingly no gain before. Perhaps he simply could not stand the pressure any more, a heady cocktail of stress and duty slowly poisoning him.
Carl was starting to understand that feeling. A veil of dread slowly settled over him. He locked eyes with Arrathnar. 'Kill him? Is that what you've done with the others you have found?'
Arrathnar held his gaze. 'No. We keep them locked away, safe from their own actions, although their minds still torment them. Perhaps, once this is over, they will be released from their waking nightmare.'
Carl digested that thought. What if Hawke becomes like that? Will killing him be more of a mercy than letting him end up like that? He shook his head. If it comes to it, then I will do what is necessary. For both of our sakes. 'I will,' he said with a heavy sigh. 'If the time comes, I'll do it.'
She stood back, breathing a sigh of relief. 'Good,' she said, nodding to herself. 'That is good to hear.' She glanced down at the star charts which ran adjacent to the main galaxy map. 'We are almost there. I should go before they suspect something.'
Before Carl could reply, she had already disappeared into the darkness in the depths of the hallway.
'You seem quiet, Rookie, even for you.'
Carl snapped back into the room. Hawke was stood next to him, and Carl could not help his gaze falling over the scar that dominated his face.
'I know I'm an attractive man, but quit staring, will you?'
Carl heard Justinia's sharp laugh as she ducked through the doorway. He looked back at Hawke and shook his head. 'Sorry, Captain. Just thinking about things.'
Hawke grunted. 'Your parents by any chance?'
'Yeah,' Carl said. 'It's been a long time since I've seen them. I haven't spoken to them since...' He let his words die. Since I fucked things up, he thought to himself.
'Since?' Hawke said, leaning in closer.
'Nothing, Captain.'
Hawke laughed. 'Since joining the Space Bastards I take it?' He clapped Carl on the shoulder, the force causing him to spin in his chair. 'Not as prestigious as the military, I'll give you that. At least you can tell them it pays better.'
Carl hid his sigh of relief and turned back to the galaxy map. Sure, tell them the money is good, just don't mind the immorality of it.
The War Goddess closed in on the Gradia sector, and, as they approached, data for Mribos streamed into the planetary database. Carl could see why the New England would want to be there. The planet was rich in an abundance of rare metals which could be used to create hardened star ship hulls, water aquifers and solar arrays. It would fetch a good price on the open market. According to the planet data, excavation had only begun a month cycle ago.
Justinia leaned over his shoulder, pointing to a log of reports that the Winter Dawn had sent over to prepare them for contact with the New England. 'Looks like we've got our answer as to where the stone came from,' she said, enlarging one of the reports onto one of the surrounding screens.
Carl glanced at it, skimming the sickly green text as it scrolled down the screen. Archaeological remains discovered, unknown origin. No remains or fossils found, only buildings. Nothing that matched any known historical database.
The proximity siren sounded. Carl flicked over to the galaxy map. Arrival was imminent. He reached up and flicked on the initial scanners, beeps and buzzes signifying their initiation sequences had started. Warnings flickered from the collision scanners. Debris detected? Carl switched to another screen. No doubt excess rock from the rock from the blasting process. I'll need to take it in slow.
'Looks like we have some kind of debris,' he said, over his shoulder. 'You might want to grab hold of something.' He reached forward, pulling back the drive accelerator, and gripped the yoke to firmly bring the War Goddess back under manual control.
The War Goddess dropped out of warp drive, everything falling into focus through the view-port. A thick field of debris drifted in every direction, ricocheting off of the hull. Dull thuds resonated through the ship as they struck, a cacophony of battered metal against rock. Carl peered through the view-port, the light from the nearest sun barely illuminating the layer of detritus that now encircled the planet.
He reached up and switched the external searchlights to active. The rocks reflected the light with a dull shine. He lump began to swell in his throat. 'That's not rock,' he said quietly. 'That's fragments of hull.' Carl brought the ship under control. He guided it through the debris as best as he could, but the sheer amount of fragments made it impossible to avoid them entirely.
'Didn't expect this,' Hawke said, leaning in towards the view-port. 'Where's the New England?'
Carl glanced down, checking the close range scanners. 'Just around the curve of the planet.'
'Take us to her, Rookie.'
Carl swung the ship around, placing the War Goddess in a matching orbit with the New England. The ship slowly crept around the atmosphere of Mribos, the dark shape of the mining vessel coming into view over the horizon of the planet. Carl squinted through the view-port at his parent's home ship. His heart pounded in his chest. 'Something is wrong,' he said.
Justinia stood beside him and matched his squint. 'How can you tell from here?'
'The ship,' Carl said, pointing towards it through the view-port. 'It's not locked into orbit with the planet correctly, it should have its base locked to the surface.'
Hawke watched the ship as it drifted aimlessly in orbit with the planet. 'We need to get in there.'
The closer the New England became, the more was visibly wrong with it. The mining vessel was not only drifting in an unlocked orbit, but the debris became thicker, the quiet thuds of it hitting the War Goddess increasing in frequency.
Carl reached forward, swivelling the forward facing floodlights towards the stricken vessel. The beams reached out through the darkness, illuminating the true state of the ship. His throat tightened and he struggled for breath. Keep calm, Carl, he told himself, it might not be as bad as it seems.<
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The hull spun around, slowly revealing a gaping hole ripped into the side of it. Oh no, please no. He snatched the intercom up and hailed the ship. 'New England, this is the War Goddess, do you copy?'
Silence.
'New England, this is the War Goddess, do you copy?'
Silence.
A hand gripped his shoulder. He reached a hand up to join with the slender fingers that held him. His vision blurred through a veil of tears.
'I'm sorry, Carl,' Justinia said softly, squeezing his hand.
The situation broke him. He tore his hand away and threw the intercom against the desk. Emotion boiled over him. 'No, no, no,' he sobbed, holding his face in his hands.
'There is nothing you could have done, nothing that any of us could have done,' Hawke said.
Carl turned to face him. 'Maybe there are survivors? Maybe some pockets of atmosphere remain?'
Hawke paused for a second, choosing his next words carefully. 'Roo...Carl. You saw what happened with the hull breach we had. That was nothing compared to the hole out there,' he said, pointing back out of the view-port.
This can't be happening, this can't be real. Carl dropped from his chair and sank to the floor, burying his head in his arms, his body shaking with heavy sobs. He did not care about keeping it together, about not looking weak in front of the crew, not right now. Rix was right he thought, I should have called them, I should have spoken to them sooner.
He heard footsteps leaving the room. Good. It was too late now, there was nothing he could do about it. I should have contacted them. Maybe they could have told him about finding the stone, he could have warned them if he knew. He slammed his head back into the console behind him until it throbbed. You stupid fuck.
Hawke was stood over him, staring down silently.
'What...' Carl breathed, before remembering himself. 'Captain.'
Hawke held his stare. 'Think you could still dock this thing?'
'Sorry, Captain?' Carl sobbed, dropping his head to his chest. 'You've lost me. You've seen the state of the ship. It's junked. Fucked.'
Hawke walked to the view-port and examined the wreckage. 'The New England,' he said. 'The docking bay still looks intact.'