Traitors of Sol: Part One of the Sol Sequence

by J Porteous

  Justinia placed her hand softly on his shoulder. 'There's no way they could have known what they had excavated from Mribos,' she said. 'You think they would have mentioned a rock that looked slightly different from the other rocks they mined out? I doubt they would have noticed.'

  Carl could not move his eyes away from them. 'Tell me we'll find the bastards,' he muttered. 'Tell me we'll find them and kill them.'

  Justinia crouched down next to him. 'Carl, look at me.'

  He tore his eyes away from his parents, focusing through the tears.

  She held his eyes in a steely glare. 'We'll find them. We'll kill them. You'll kill them.'

  Carl stared through her. A fire coursed through his veins, burning through him again. It was something that was becoming familiar to him. Vengeance. It rose from the pit of his stomach until it bubbled in his brain. He stood and looked down at his parents. At least they were together at the end. The thought gave him little comfort. 'I'll make them pay,' he snarled. 'I don't care what I have to do, or who they are. They will pay.'

  Chapter Twelve

  Hawke

  Hawke watched Arrathnar as she tinkered away with Watts' prized Synth. He somewhat enjoyed hearing the occasional mutter or sigh of frustration, it was the first time he had seen Arrathnar express such an emotion. Not always so cool and collected then? He smiled briefly to himself, before another jolt of pain through his skull made him wince.

  The pains had not grown in frequency but they had grown in intensity, a constant reminder of the task that lay ahead of him. The Sender stones. He knew nothing of them except the fact that he must retrieve them, anything reason beyond that was obscured from him.

  Each time he attempted to sleep he was plagued with the same vision. When he felt himself slipping into sleep he had every intention of demanding an answer from them, to ask them what the Sender stones would be used for, but as soon as he saw Daria and Elpis again the question vanished his mind. Another hiss from Arrathnar. 'You seem to know what you're doing.'

  Arrathnar arched an eyebrow, but did not look away from her work. 'We are called Researchers for a reason, Hawke. What did you expect? We collect all technology, all knowledge, from the past and present. If something exists, then we know how to use it.' She tweaked something and muttered under her breath again. 'However, it does not stop some things becoming frustrating.'

  'Maybe you could fix up the War Goddess while you are at it?'

  Arrathnar gave him a sideways glance but uttered no words. She carried on tweaking the Synth. 'I deal in technology, not miracles, Captain.'

  Hawke grinned then cleared his throat. 'Are you sure this is going to work,' he said, changing the subject.

  She ignored him for a moment, continuing to work on something in the back of the Synth's head. She gave a firm twist then looked up at him. 'We had better hope it does,' she said. 'If we can not track the movements of the Kalindros then we have no hope of being prepared if they strike us again.'

  'Good point,' Hawke muttered. He rose from his seat and walked over to the Synth, inspecting Arrathnar's work. 'So what happens when we bring the stones together?'

  She glanced up quickly, before continuing to fiddle with the Synth. 'I already explained, I do not know. All we know is that it is at least part of the solution to stop the Kalindros.' She laughed quietly to herself. 'We do not even know what they want, let alone how to stop them.'

  'They're hostile,' Hawke said with a shrug. 'That's all I need to know.'

  She pushed her fist into the back of the Synth's cranial case, and something clicked into place. She stood back and looked at him, hands delicately placed on her hips. 'You certainly do live up to your reputation, Captain Sparov,' she said. 'Point the Space Bastards at a problem and you bludgeon and smash until there is not a problem left.'

  A smile touched his lips at those words. 'Good to see we still have our reputation.'

  'Apparently so,' she said. She looked down at him. 'It is not the first time I have had to resort to your type.'

  'And this is only the first time you've worked with us? I'm almost offended.'

  'I doubt it, Captain,' she said. 'You are more the type to offend than to be offended.'

  Hawke grinned back. He motioned a hand to the Synth. 'Is it ready?'

  'There is a simple way to find out.'

  The intercom squawked into life. 'Hawke? We're at the docking ramp now.' It was Justinia.

  Hawke hit the wall mounted communication unit and spoke into the microphone. 'I'll come down and open her up.'

  Hawke climbed down to the docking bay and released the loading ramp. The atmosphere of the New England now barely registered on the external environment processor, as what was left of it had slowly leaked out into space. The ramp dropped to reveal Justinia, Watts and Carl stood waiting patiently, helmets now fully fitted with rebreathers. Hawke found his eyes drawn to Carl.

  Something burned in his eyes, something Hawke recognised all too well. It was a feeling that Hawke had carried for years, a burning hate that gave him a purpose in this second life. To see it in someone else made him uncomfortable. He looked away, addressing Justinia instead. 'Get everything?'

  Watts leapt up the ramp. 'Yeah,' he said. 'Some of the navigation data was corrupted but I think we will be able to make something of it, especially if that AI core is as good as Arrathnar said it is.'

  'It had better be,' Carl said, as he marched up the ramp and removed his helmet.

  Hawke observed Carl for a moment, watching the intensity in his eyes glowing hot, even against the lights of the drop bay. It was unmistakable. Looks like he didn't get the answer he was hoping for, Hawke thought to himself. He glanced down and saw something sticking out of Carl's holster. A hand cannon, ornately decorated. 'Found yourself something there, Goban?'

  Carl looked with a moment of confusion before realising that Hawke was pointing to his holster. He pulled the weapon out and held it to the light. It glistened with a quiet polish. 'My father's hand cannon,' he said, a new conviction strengthening his words.

  Hawke watched it shine in the light. 'Impressive piece of kit,' he said. The look in Carl's eyes betrayed what had happened in the dying ship. 'I'm sorry you didn't get the answer you wanted.'

  'It doesn't matter now,' Carl said, placing the weapon firmly back in it's holster. 'Just tell me where to point it.'

  That fresh, burning pain, I remember it like it was yesterday. He placed a firm hand on Carl's shoulder. 'You'll get your chance, don't you worry about that.'

  Carl stared at him for a second then marched off into the bowels of the War Goddess.

  'I'm worried about him,' Justinia said, watching the door close behind Carl. 'He's just taken a hard hit. We don't need our pilot going off the rails.'

  Hawke watched the door long after it had shut. 'We're up against an enemy that would drive a sane man mad.' He glanced at Justinia. 'Maybe it's driving some of us mad already. Maybe that is just what we need. Do you think any level headed person would sign up for this?'

  She walked away from him, towards the door. She looked back over her shoulder as she passed through. Her eyes lingered on Hawke. 'That's what I'm afraid of.'

  Hawke called to her. 'Not like you to beat around the bush, Justinia.'

  She held his eyes for a moment then disappeared through the doorway.

  Hawke stood still in the silence, her glare having rooted him to the spot. In all her years in the Space Bastards, she had never glared at him like that. It cleaved him. He grimaced as the throbbing pain returned to batter his skull. He closed the drop bay ramp and returned to the depths of the ship.

  Hawke made his way slowly back to engineering, his steps heavy and laboured. The bright day-lights of Watts' working rig invited him in from the dim corridor. The silhouette of Watts and Arrathnar stood stark against the bright light which burned down on the Synth. It was now sat, propped upright in a chair.

  Watts glanced back, face shrouded in shadow. He nodded Hawke an acknowledgement. He
looked back to Arrathnar and the Synth. 'So, you think it's going to work?'

  Arrathnar let out an exasperated sigh. 'Like I told Hawke, we have to hope so.' Her arms glowed in the bright light as she made a last adjustment. She forced the back of the Synth's head shut with a satisfying clunk then stepped back, pulling Watts back with her. 'Better to be safe than sorry.'

  The Synth twitched, a spasm of energy wracking its chassis. Its eyes flickered into life, the same white light as before slowly fading into a light shade of green. The voice modulator crackled into life, a series of high pitched notes causing the three of them to wince.

  It sat up with a jolt, blank eyes surveying the room. 'Nelson AI core online. Confirmed basic humanoid chassis.' Its voice coursed up and down in frequency, as if unsure of what tone it should take. It stood straight, quickly adjusting to the weight of the armour Watts had bolted onto the frame. 'Basic modifications made. Crude, but effective.' It looked up, its cold stare upon the crew. It stood still and silent.

  Hawke nudged Watts. 'What happens now?' he whispered.

  'I...uh...' Watts stuttered, his eyes fixated on the form before him.

  Arrathnar rolled her eyes and took a step forward towards the Synth. 'Do you know where you are? Do you know who we are?'

  The Synth's head snapped towards her. 'Initial scan indicates layout of pre-thirty-first century space craft. Registration fifty one sixty five, name given for identification of War Goddess.' Its head quickly scanned across Arrathnar, Hawke and Watts. 'Species present are Harathdan and human. Unknown naming conventions for organisms present.'

  Hawke cut in first. 'You know the registration and name of the ship?'

  The Synth looked at him. 'I have been introduced to the military universal ship registration system,' the Synth said. 'All ships registered until my offline status have been logged and recorded. If you require a more up to date version I will need to be reintroduced to the systems databanks.'

  'No,' Hawke said, with a wave of his hand. 'That wont be necessary.'

  Arrathnar stepped towards the Synth, the bright lights bathing her. 'Do you remember anything before your offline status?'

  'Retrieving data.' The Synth paused for a moment. 'Ship registered as Nero class cruiser, the Indomitable. Catastrophic ship damage caused by planetary collision. Ship had to be permanently deactivated to ensure vessel could not be traced. Ninety eight percent of the crew killed on impact, including high ranking official Admiral Lanton. Admiral Zura has now assumed this position as next in the chain of command. Seven crew members survived the initial crash, six have perished since. If you require me to check the medical databases for updated death records I will need to be reconnected to the military database.'

  Zura? The name stung Hawke sharply. The man who had framed him for the slaughter of the Council of Sol. A man who he had once called a friend. He had spent so many years running from that name, and now here he was to bite him on the ass. 'I don't think that will be necessary,' Hawke said. 'You said the ship was scuppered to ensure it couldn't be traced? Why?'

  'That information is confidential,' Nelson replied.

  'Well, we own you now, and we say it's not confidential.'

  Nelson paused for a second. 'Those associated with that knowledge must be neutralised.'

  It was not the answer Hawke had expected, or wanted. He turned to Watts. 'What do you think? Get Goban down here? He's a military man. He might know a bit more about this AI.'

  Before Watts could answer, the Synth looked at Hawke with a blank interest. 'Goban. One confirmed entry in the military database. Survivor of the Indomitable. Exceptionally skilled pilot, now ex-service due to discharge at Admiral Zura's request.'

  'What?' Hawke said, narrowing his eyes. 'What did you just say?'

  'I shall repeat my last statement,' the Synth said. 'Exceptionally skilled pilot, now ex-service due to discharge at Admiral Zura's request.'

  Watts nodded to Hawke. 'Might be worth calling him down in that case.'

  Hawke unintentionally balled his fists. His blood pumped like thunder, his heart pounding hard in his ears as he heard the words the Synth said. Zura and Carl? he thought. The very idea lit a fire in him. He pressed the intercom. 'Carl. Get down to engineering.'

  A moment of silence. 'Sure.'

  Something flashed through his mind. The blanked out document. The last time he had seen it was before the War Goddess had been attacked. No wonder no one else had picked him up, he was meant to join us. He was planted. Zura wanted to keep an eye on me. Why can't he just leave me alone? He has already taken everything from me, what else could he want? First Truman, and now Carl. Hawke cursed himself for taking him on, for letting another informant infest the War Goddess. He felt his fire returning to him. Arrathnar watched him with intent eyes. 'What?'

  Her voice stayed calm and steady. She glanced down at his fists. 'Hold your temper, Captain. I will not let anything jeopardise the mission.'

  Hawke did not respond, instead grunting to himself and looking away.

  Carl's steps could be heard getting louder until he appeared in the doorway. 'Captain?' His voice trailed off as his eyes fell over the Synth. 'Got it working then?' he said to Arrathnar.

  The Synth turned around and looked at him. 'Greetings, ex-serviceman Carl Goban. If you would like me to update your medical records, I could assess you at your soonest convenience.'

  Carl was taken aback. 'How does it-'

  'Don't play dumb!' Hawke roared. He launched himself at Carl, throwing the surprised pilot against the wall. They teetered through the piles of scrap, sending the mountains of junk scattering across the room. Before Carl could regain his footing, Hawke rammed his forearm tight against his throat, crushing the pilot's neck against the wall. 'You treacherous fuck,' Hawke spat. He pressed harder, the pilot's face colouring a harsh shade of scarlet. 'He sent you here, didn't he? Sent you to spy on me?' Hawke released his grip, allowing Carl to grab a breath before barrelling a balled fist into his stomach. Carl doubled over in pain, gasping for air. 'What does he want? Tell me!' Hawke pulled his fist back to launch another strike, but arms grabbed him.

  'Hawke!' Watts cried, pulling him back. 'What's he done? What are you on about?'

  Hawke stared between Watts and Carl, ragged breaths and spit escaping him. 'He knows,' he said between breaths, pointing at Carl. 'He's an informant.' He sucked in more ragged breaths, waiting for an answer that didn't come. 'Tell them, you lying bastard!'

  Carl propped himself up, sucking in harsh breaths. 'I..I don't know...what you are..talking about,' he eventually replied.

  Hot sweat ran down into Hawke's eyes, adrenaline burning his brain. 'Don't lie,' he snapped. He took a step forward and Watts pulled him back again.

  'Hawke,' Carl spluttered. 'Captain...I honestly don't know what you mean.' He ran a hand over his reddened neck, wincing as he touched it. 'How does this thing know me?'

  The Synth stepped forward. 'If I may? Ex-serviceman Goban was only discharged under the orders of Admiral Zura. From my records ex-serviceman Goban was under a ghost command. He piloted the ship for Admiral Lanton, but Zura was the one who passed Lanton his orders. Ex-serviceman Goban would not have known about Zura. Mr Goban was dismissed along with the other surviving crew members soon after the crash.'

  Hawke looked around the room, taking in the stunned looks of his crew. His gaze drifted to the doorway. Justinia had heard the commotion and had come down, staring at him in horror. A realisation dawned in him. He was wrong. He sunk down to his knees, all energy draining from him. 'What have I done?'

  Carl looked confused at the Synth. 'How do you...how do you know me?'

  The Synth paused for moment. 'I was assigned to the Indomitable under command of Admiral Zura. I was installed into the internal ship systems during the final stage of the ship build. I had access to all systems on board, including trooper logs.'

  'Assigned to the Indomitable?' Carl queried with a pained frown. “What do you mean? By Zura? I thought he was in
command of the Sol battalion?'

  Hawke slumped back against the wall. 'You're right,' he said grimly. 'Zura was based in the Sol system. He had command of the military forces in that area.'

  Carl looked down at him, eyes still blurred and watery. 'Was?'

  Hawke nodded. 'Back when I was Captain of the Council Guard. His power extended once Lanton and the Council were dead.' He looked up at Carl. 'It doesn't explain why they blanked your file though.'

  Carl leaned back against the wall beside Hawke. 'We were told the mission was confidential,' he said. 'It's why I jumped at the chance, it was prestigious to be called up for one. Even we didn't know what we ran from system to system. All we were told was a destination and a contact name.'

  'Ex-serviceman Goban is correct,' the Synth stated.

  'We?' Watts asked.

  Carl nodded. 'Yeah, we.' He drew an arm across his face, clearing his eyes. 'I got hand picked, all of us of did, from the Hope of Thrann. The...the Indomitable crashed. I crashed it.' He shook his head. 'I killed them. They were a good crew. Most had families, had bright futures ahead of them, and I killed them.' He wiped away the tears that ran down his cheeks. 'That's why I was dismissed from the military. That's why no one else would take me on.' He looked down at the floor. 'I killed my friends.'

  'What about the other survivors?' Hawke asked.

  Carl shrugged. 'I haven't heard from the others since.' He rubbed his face in his palms. 'I don't blame them. I don't blame them at all.'

  'All other ex-servicemen and women from the Indomitable are confirmed deceased,' the Synth said. 'You are now the sole survivor of the Indomitable.'

  Carl furrowed his brow. 'What?'

  'All others are deceased, ex-serviceman Goban,' the Synth repeated. 'Neutralised as per operational command specified.'

  'Neutralised? How?' The colour drained quickly from Carl's face. 'They survived the crash?'

  'Correct,' the Synth said. 'Mission parameters stated that there should have been a one hundred percent fatality rate.' The Synth paused for a moment, regarding Carl. 'Only my assigned co-pilot survived.'