Traitors of Sol: Part One of the Sol Sequence

by J Porteous

  Eventually, a door across from him opened slowly and one of Willnell's maintenance crew entered through it. The man shuffled towards him, his bright orange overalls making him a beacon in the barren room.

  'Solitude?' the man said, his eyes darting around nervously.

  Hawke nodded. 'You're taking me there?'

  The man nodded quickly and turned away from him. 'This way please.'

  Hawke followed the man through what seemed like another endless maze of maintenance tunnels and service hallways. He tried to take note of his route in case he needed to retrace his steps to the War Goddess. All of the pathways that he was led down looked so similar and monotonous in design that Hawke could not tell one tunnel from the next. The station still lay dead, the occasional other orange overall appearing out of the darkness.

  'So, Willnell has sorted the visitor access?' Hawke asked, breaking the oppressive silence.

  The man scurried on for a moment without saying a word. They came to a small junction, at which the man paused and looked around, as if lost himself. 'Yes.'

  'Does the Solitude know that they are having visitors?'

  The man chose the left corridor and sped off again. 'This way please.'

  Evasive. Hawke's heart began to pound his chest, his hand now firmly clamped around the grip of his hand cannon.

  The man came to a sudden halt next to yet another nondescript doorway. 'Here,' he said, and motioned to the door.

  'Really?' Hawke grabbed the man, pinning him to the wall by his throat, and placed a firm hand over his mouth to muffle his surprised cry. 'Now tell me,' Hawke whispered fiercely into the man's ear. 'What's on the other side of this door?' He released his hand slowly from the man's mouth.

  The man had drained of colour, his eyes darting around frantically. 'S...Solitude,' he stuttered. 'The ship.'

  Hawke tightened his grip around the man's throat, feeling the ridges of his gullet. 'I don't ask as kindly the second time around.'

  The colour started to reappear in the man's face, although it was now an angry red and purple. He wriggled to catch a breath, and Hawke relaxed his grip to let him take it. 'Troopers. Military. They are with the ship.'

  I fucking knew it. Hawke relaxed his grip, before grasping the man's forehead and smashing his skull back against the corroded wall. The man grimaced as he fell to floor and out of the realm of consciousness. Hawke brought up his communication unit. 'Justinia? Do you read?'

  'Hawke? What's happening?'

  'I hope you've got the War Goddess ready, we're in for a fight.'

  'Autopilot is locked and engaged on your position.'

  'Good,' Hawke said. 'If you need to, you push her straight into the docking bay, you understand?'

  'Yeah, I've got it,' Justinia said. 'Be careful.'

  Hawke grunted a response. 'It's them who are going to need to be careful.' He dropped the comm channel and pulled his hand cannon from his holster to inspect it. Fourteen rounds, he counted. Going to need to make my shots count. He pressed himself close to the door frame. Something rippled through him. That feeling again.

  The feeling of presence had returned, coming from somewhere from the other side of the door. Another marked one. Whoever he felt now, it was lost to him. If he could feel them, could they feel him too? He pushed the clip firmly into his hand cannon and wrenched the door lever. The door scraped against its frame as it opened, announcing his arrival to those within.

  Gunfire rang out as rounds ripped away parts of the door frame and tore holes in the wall opposite Hawke. He threw himself to the floor as a rain of metal shards burst around him, gritting his teeth against the pain of rogue debris as it cut his bare face. The gunfire ended as abruptly as it started. Someone talked inside. Hawke slowly pulled himself to his feet, blood running from the thin lacerations that danced across his exposed skin. He wiped away the thin veneer of blood. Like I needed more scars. He stood still, straining to hear over his own laboured breathing. Footsteps. Coming this way.

  'You think we got him?'

  'Well, we've got someone, unless people have started to sleep in the middle of corridors?'

  Hawke glanced down. The hand of the man who led him there was outstretched and exposed in the doorway.

  'Are we just going to drag his body back to the boss then?'

  'He's going to want to see him,' the other voice said. 'And the last time I checked, he was too busy listening through reports from that AI to come out of his room, so yeah, we're going to have to drag the bastard all the way back to the ship.'

  Reports from an AI? Hawke brought his hand cannon up, taking the weight of it in both hands. Only one AI crossed his mind. Nelson.

  'He's still listening to those reports?'

  'Yeah. He seems obsessed with it, constantly rerunning different scripts and trying to piece everything together.'

  'Surely, if we know where the other stones are, why don't we just go get them? I mean, he's got most of the human military under his command. Can't he just say they are pirates for stealing the AI?'

  'And risk a universal incident? A cross-species one at that? The Admiral is a clever man, he wouldn't risk it.'

  'Probably the reason why I'm not Admi – fuck...'

  Hawke stood in the doorway, switching the hand cannon between both of his targets. 'Don't go doing anything stupid,' he said. He nodded to the corridor behind them. 'This way to Solitude?'

  The first trooper nodded quickly. 'Yeah. Yeah. Down that way.'

  Something grasped at Hawke's ankle. He glanced down to see the maintenance man's hand wrapped around his leg. He quickly stamped it off.

  'Now!'

  Hawke's eyes flicked up to see the two troopers reaching for their weapons. He leveled the hand cannon at the first trooper and pulled the trigger. The slug ripped straight through the trooper's helmet, splitting his head into a gory mess. The other trooper fumbled his weapon in a panic, giving Hawke the window of opportunity he needed. Three shots tore through the trooper's chest, painting the corridor behind him a deep crimson. He was dead before he hit the floor. No time to waste now, they are bound to have heard that.

  Hawke sprinted down the hallway, leaving the troopers where they led. 'Justinia?' Hawke said, as he brought up his communication unit. 'Be ready to fire on the Solitude if it tries to leave.'

  'What's happening, Hawke?'

  'They know I'm coming.'

  Hawke dropped the channel and powered through the hallways until he reached the docking bay. The Solitude was recognisable straight away. The harsh lines and build of the Sentinel class ship easily defined it, a hard contrast to the luxury furnishings which adorned its interior. Two troopers frantically pushed a supply crate up the ship's drop ramp, one last load up before they departed. Hawke aimed his hand cannon as he ran towards the ship, firing on them as he approached.

  Four shots echoed around the docking bay. Three of them slammed into the crate, the fourth found its mark. One trooper clutched vainly at the hole torn in his thigh as he rolled uncontrollably down the ramp, the other panicking and letting go of the crate. It slid down the ramp towards his comrade, who was too busy trying to stem the blood loss to notice the heavy slab of steel heading towards him. Hawke heard the sickening crack of bones breaking even from where he stood.

  The ramp groaned into life and began to ascend. Hawke holstered his hand cannon and pushed his body hard, letting out a roar as he launched himself towards the ship. His fingers gripped the edge in an iron vice, every inch of him straining as he hauled himself up inside of the ship. He slid down the inside of the ramp and hit the floor with a loud thud, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  The trooper who had made it inside stood staring at him in disbelief. Hawke reached down for his hand cannon. Fuck. The impact had knocked the hand cannon from his holster, sending it sprawling across the floor. Hawke's eyes found it. He glanced back to the trooper, both of them temporarily frozen.

  Hawke scrabbled forward on his knees, attempting to reach the weapon fi
rst. The trooper ducked down and snatched it from in front of him, Hawke's fingers whispering along the edge of the grip. He launched himself up towards the trooper, gripping the arm which now held his hand cannon.

  The trooper pushed back as hard as he could, trying to align the barrel with Hawke's body. The trooper squeezed off another two rounds. The sound reverberated off of the walls of the cramped loading bay, battering Hawke's ear drums, but each missed their mark.

  Hawke thrust his head forward, smashing into the trooper's face. Blood and mucus exploded from the ruins of the man's nose. The trooper stumbled backwards, firing blindly around the room. Now's my chance.

  Hawke threw a bunched fist forward, cracking the man's head against the wall, and did not stop. 'Stop. Wasting. My. Ammo.' The last punch caved the trooper's skull, his body slumping to the floor in a lifeless heap. Hawke sucked in gasping breaths. His harsh landing inside of the Solitude had taken its toll. He stooped to snatch up his hand cannon. Something crashed into his side, sending him into darkness.

  Hawke screwed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to filter out the pain that shot through his body. You can't die here, he told himself. Not like this. Not when Daria is counting on you. He moaned through gritted teeth and slowly pulled himself to his feet. He opened his eyes to a blurred world, his eyes trying to piece together the figure that stood just in front of him. The feeling of presence returned to flood his brain.

  'Hawke, I wish we were meeting again under different circumstances.'

  Hawke did not need to see the man to know who it was. 'Zura? You piece of shit.'

  'Now, now, Captain. Is that really any way to greet an old friend?'

  'Friends? Maybe once, Zura.' Hawke spat out the blood that had collected in his mouth. 'If this is how you treat your friends, I'd hate to be your enemy.'

  Zura laughed, a harsh, dry sound. 'I could have had you killed, Hawke, but I didn't. I saved you when I cast you out from Sol. I saved Daria. The citizens of Callisto? They were baying for your blood, Hawke. I saved you. Don't you think you owe me that much? Otherwise, you would have been in the ground long ago.'

  'Sometimes I think I'd rather that you had killed me.' Hawke's vision was slowly coming to, details starting to fill out the hazy figure in front of him. Another figure stepped out of the darkness, one that was painful to recognise. 'Daria?'

  She smiled at him, but did not speak.

  'You know, Hawke,' Zura continued. 'Sometimes I wish I had just shot you dead the moment we found you with the Council's bodies. You disappeared off into the far reaches of the universe like a good little dog, but recently you've really been a thorn in my side, you know that? Even that little mercenary contract, that I went to great lengths to forge, couldn't stop you. For all of their tough talk and big shows, the Sons of Odin are quite the disappointment.'

  Hawke focused hard, painting in the last details of Zura's face. He looked as slimy and self satisfied as he always had, though time had taken its toll on him somewhat. The one thing that stood out, more than his beady blue eyes and his thin lips, which curled into a rancid smile, was the burn-like scar in the shape of a clawed hand that wrapped itself around the side of his face. Something that Zura had always explained away as an old battle scar. A realisation dawned. He's been with them all this time?

  'I see you have been touched in the same way,' Zura said, reading Hawke's question before he could speak it. 'They've guided me for many years now. Starting with the removal of the Council and ending when I take my fleet to the Winter Dawn and pry the rest of those stones from the cold, dead fingers of your friends.'

  'What?' Hawke said, trying to put together the pieces. 'What do the stones have to do with the Council?' He looked at Daria pleadingly. 'Daria, please?'

  Daria smiled sweetly. 'All will be come apparent, Hawke. It is for the benefit of all of us.'

  'They came to me, as they did to you,' Zura said. 'Many years ago, of course. They showed me things, things I never believed possible. They will help us, Hawke, they will spare our universe. They pushed me higher in the ranks to control large swathes of the military. The removal of the Council allowed me to assert myself into their position, so that when the time comes I could simply take the stones. We were never sure of where the stones had been scattered, it has been billions of years since they last visited. The universe is a changed place.' He smiled, almost kindly. 'We just need to let them through, Hawke. We need to work with them.”

  Hawke managed a laugh 'Work with them? Have you completely lost it? You've seen what they can do with one ship. If they come through with an armada, they will decimate us.'

  A humourless smile spread over Zura's thin lips. 'You really have ended up in all of the awkward places haven't you? You interfered with my little experiment with the Junkers and stole an AI that belonged to me.' He permitted himself a small laugh. 'The Blistered Suns tried to take it too. I don't think I need to remind you of the fate of the Hell Hammer. They bent to their will in the end. Perhaps the fact that you have Nelson is not entirely bad however, he does report back on your activities, and with efficiency too.' Zura examined something in his hands.

  Hawke forced his aching body to stand upright. 'So the AI, it's your little pet?'

  'Almost,' Zura said with a wide grin. 'He was originally left to me, by them. He began life as their probe, waiting and observing. He found his way to me, Hawke, he was meant for me.' The object in his hand came into focus. Hawke's hand cannon. He took a moment to admire the weapon. 'A nice piece of kit,' he said, bouncing it in his hand to test its weight. 'Never been a fan of hand cannons myself, but when needs must...' Zura swung the hand cannon, clipping it against Hawke's face.

  Hawke reeled back and fell to his knees. Blood ran freely from his mouth, painting his gritted teeth a grim pink. He wiped a hand across his face, smearing himself in his own blood. 'Daria, do something.'

  She bent down and gently touched his cheek. 'Don't you see, Hawke? This is your chance for us to be together. We just need to help the Kalindros, to help them get what they want, then they will leave us, and Elpis, in peace.'

  The pain that shot through Hawke's heart threatened to crush him. Here it was, the chance he had always wanted. All he had to do was damn himself and the universe in the process. 'He's lying to you,' he growled. 'How can you not see that? They are going to come through and slaughter us.' He raised his head to meet Zura's glare. 'You piece of shit. You're going to die before you let them through.'

  Zura tutted. 'Always the tough talker, Hawke. I see some things never change.' He crouched down to look Hawke straight in the eye. 'Let's get down to business, shall we? I know what you told them. You told them that you don't need them, that you can get Daria and Elpis back yourself.'

  Hawke screwed his face up. 'How do you know that?'

  'Whatever they hear, they can tell someone else. How do you think they talk to you?' He stood again, rising above Hawke. Daria took a place next to him. 'I really hate to do this, Hawke, but it is for the cause. For the good of the universe.'

  Daria smiled again, her green eyes shining like beacons in the darkness. 'I will do what I must to save this universe. I will do anything to save Elpis.'

  Hawke wrenched words from his throat. 'What have you done with her? Where is she?'

  'She is safe,' Daria said gently. 'She is with the Oligarch of Lanak now.'

  Hawke ground his teeth, barely holding himself back. “The Oligarch of Lanak?' He spat, the blood pooling quickly again in his mouth. 'They're fucking slavers, Daria! How could you do that?'

  Daria's voice became solemn. 'It is a safe place for her. She is intelligent enough to work in their laboratories. She will be treated well until I return for her.'

  'Daria,' Hawke said. 'Help me. We can go get her, we can still have our lives back. It's not too late.'

  Zura laughed. 'What will you bring her back to, Hawke? You cannot return to Callisto, you are reviled there. What makes you think she even wants to come with you? The only thing she knows
about her father is your name and what you are. The Traitor of Sol.'

  'I'm no traitor,' Hawke hissed. Something inside of him clicked. He had never denied this title before, he could not, for the sake of Daria and now Elpis. Now it did not matter, now he was in control. The only person who could hurt them was trapped here, with him. His grin returned, his lips splitting painfully as he did. 'I'll prove myself to her.' He looked at Daria. 'I'll prove it to you both.'

  Daria stepped back to stand side by side with Zura. 'You know what you need to do to prove it. Hand over the stones.'

  'No,' he said, shaking his head. 'I can't do that, Daria.'

  Zura pressed the hand cannon against her head. She stood perfectly still, the smile returning to her face. Zura grimaced. 'Don't make me do this, Hawke,' he said. 'This is all the leverage I have.'

  Hawke felt himself shrink. 'Daria, come here, please. I can protect you.'

  'No,' she said. 'You can't. Not from this. You cannot protect any of us from what is coming. Unless you give us the stones.'

  Hawke grit his teeth, his eyes starting to well. 'Daria, you know I can't do that.'

  She smiled back at him. 'Then you have done this, Hawke.'

  Zura pulled the trigger.

  Hawke closed his eyes but still heard the wet splatter. He opened his eyes, his mind ablaze with fury. He could not bring himself to look at what was left of her. 'You piece of shit,' he growled.

  'Don't judge me!' Zura yelled, wildly waving the hand cannon at Hawke. 'I spared you, Hawke. I didn't want any of this to happen! You think I don't look back at our time in the academy fondly? We were friends Hawke. I loved you and Daria. I never wanted this to happen, believe me.'

  'But it did, didn't it?'