Traitor (Collaborator Book 1)
Table of Contents
TRAITOR
Security File: Rebecca St. Martin
History
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Nightmare One
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Nightmare Two
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Nightmare Three
Nightmare Four
Nightmare Five
Nightmare Six
Nightmare Seven
Nightmare Eight
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Security File: Captain Amelia Andrewson
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Nightmare Nine
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
(Untitled)
TRAITOR
Book 1 of the Collaborator series
Seven years ago, Rebecca St. Martin took the coward’s path to save her skin. She has lived with that decision, eking out a life as an indentured servant on a space station far from home.
Only now, fate has decided to give Rebecca another chance. A ghost from her past plans to executive a daring rescue from the prison bowels of the station Rebecca now works.
Rebecca has to face the same decision she made all those years ago. Could she watch her friends be murdered? Or could she, just for once, be a hero?
TRAITOR
Copyright 2017, Krista D. Ball
Editing by M.L.D. Curelas
Cover by http://indigochickdesigns.com/
Titles by Krista D. Ball
Collaborator
Traitor
Fugitive (forthcoming)
Rebel (forthcoming)
Tranquility
Blaze
Grief
Interlude (short story collection)
Fury
Schemes
The Dark Abyss of Our Sins
The Demons We See
The Nightmare We Know (forthcoming)
The Sins We Seek (forthcoming)
Security File: Rebecca St. Martin
Security Virtual Assistant H7-00P Daily Surveillance Report
Security Access IA7: limited public InComm use, restricted ExComm access, random personal VA checks
Security Risk B15: low risk to offend, moderate risk for recruitment, under Blackout surveillance
SVA notes: Rebecca St. Martin’s personal files contain articles related to the acquisition of Earth by Statute 1004-3A. Files not accessed in last five years. No new files. No unusual water, vendor, InComm, or ExComm usage. No purchases.
SVA Protocol: No flags.
History
January 19, 2012
This video was shot last night by an amateur astronomer, visible throughout all of the Middle East, as well as parts of Europe, South Asia, and Northern Africa. It appears to be a small, blue swirl in the night sky. There were other sightings in the region as well, as thousands of hits on video-sharing social media sites cropped up throughout the early hours.
It’s not clear what this phenomenon is yet. NASA spokeswoman said they are investigating the photos, but cannot confirm if they are genuine or fake, or if they are showing something we’ve never seen before. They will also not confirm if the phenomenon was responsible for the malfunction of several satellites.
-CBC.ca
January 20, 2012
The phenomena #BlueSwirl is, as far as we can tell, naturally-occurring. We are investigating further.
Tune in today at 4pm CST for our news conference.
-NASA, via Twitter
January 22, 2012
We are receiving various reports that world-renowned scientists from various fields, including representatives from SETI, are converging at the Accona Desert in Italy. Local officials are blocking all media from entering the desert at this time.
-BBC
January 26, 2012
Representatives from the UN Security Council, plus the EU and NATO, have arrived in Italy today.
- Al-Jazeera
President Obama says, “No comment” when asked about Secretary of State Hillary Clinton’s whereabouts.
-CNN scroll banner
Former President Bill Clinton says, “No comment” when asked about the whereabouts of Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.
-CBC scroll banner
January 31, 2012
The doctors have confirmed the three are human…identified genetic differences in the female and bioengineered…communication still basic but making progress through their computer’s translation devices…lapsed since they went originally into stasis…concerned about public reaction to not being the only human…
- Twitter user @TheTruthIsOurs666 on supposedly hacked classified cable (fragment)
February 1, 2012
A discovery of immense archeological significant has been uncovered in Italy. Three human-like corpses have been discovered in a technologically-advanced facility that had been hidden under the sand for perhaps hundreds of thousands of years.
We are still running tests, as well as attempting to understand the equipment and language of the bunker. More details will be forthcoming in the coming days.
-United Nations official statement
February 8, 2012
The UN estimates that five million are dead and over one hundred million people have been displaced in the chaos following the discovery of possible alien life on Earth. The Pope urges calm and has declared tomorrow a day of peace and prayer.
-BBC
The White House has issued a statement, in response to the increase in suicides over the last week. They are urging individuals to call the National Suicide Line. Nine states have already declared states of emergency and are bringing in free counselling and setting up mobile kiosks in schools, malls, and downtown areas.
-CNN
July 20, 2012
We are currently monitoring the massive aperture in our solar system that is forming at #BlueSwirl location.
-NASA official statement
July 22, 2012
Four technologically advanced spaceships have emerged from the aperture and have sent a pictorial message to the International Space Station requesting what scientists believe to be a request for specs to modify one of their shuttles to dock with the station.
-CBC
July 24, 2012
“These new visitors possess advanced translation technology, so linguists from around the world are working with them in an attempt to close the language gap as quickly as possible.”
-Peter Mansbridge, CBC
July 26, 2012
While it is difficult to comprehend, these aliens are, biologically, human. From what we gather so far, we share a distant ancestor. They call themselves representatives from the Federation for Independent Planets. The discovery of the Italian site triggered a thousands year old distress signal that was sent through a manmade wormhole that individuals online have been calling Blue Swirl. The location of our wormhole had been lost, explaining the lack of contact until now.
-CNN
August 19, 2012
Eleven ships have come through the aperture in the last twelve hours. They identify themselves as the Coalition of Planets. They demand Earth cease all talks with the Federation.
-Twitter reporter, @adilladak447
US President Barack Obama said in a statement to the UN today that he wants to speak with both sides in what is clear to be a galactic d
ispute. This dispute, Obama said, must not endanger human lives here on the planet “we call home.” Obama called on all members of the UN to join with him in presenting a unified front to these newcomers.
-CNN
August 21, 2012
Millions dead in first wave of Coalition attacks against cities across the globe.
-BBC news scroller
Coalition ships turn on Earth with the destruction of the last Federation ship.
-CNN headline
August 25, 2012
We are reporting live from the United Nations, where the newly-elected President of the United Nations General Assembly, Ismael Ebe, is walking to the podium now. While no one on the Security Council has confirmed this, most people are speculating that President Ebe will be announcing the official surrender of Earth to the Coalition.
-Peter Mansbridge, CBC
Chapter 1
Seven years after The Fall.
Rebecca St. Martin walked the upper decks with Zain, both weaving their way through the afternoon crowds of Bubble Town. He was going on about something to do with the sector’s tennis championships. Rebecca didn’t particularly like tennis when she lived on Earth, but now she’d come to hate the most popular game in the known universe.
“You should’ve come out to Mathi’s Grill last night. Everyone was there.”
Rebecca struggled to plaster a smile on her face. “I had a headache.”
She always had a headache whenever her companions wanted to drag her to a sporting event. She occasionally went to them, though, and very occasionally had a good time. She knew last night wasn’t going to be one of those times. Most nights, it was easier for her to exist quietly with a book in her tiny sleeping pod than it was to be out amongst the loud and happy.
Besides, it was tennis. The entire sport of hitting a ball around didn’t make any sense to her back on Earth, no matter if it was the version played in Henry VIII’s court or the full contact tennis played here in the galaxy far away from what made her human.
Zain just shook his head at her. He did that a lot lately. She couldn’t really blame him. If their roles were switched, she’d shake her head, too. “I told you to go to the docs. They’d sort you out.” He threw up his hands. “You missed the best game in years!”
It wasn’t Zain’s fault that she hated the game, or any game that remotely resembled something she’d have played or watched back on Earth. They didn’t call it tennis here of course. Her translator implant called it tennis because it was tennis, right down to the short shorts. Humanity, it seemed, was genetically predisposed to love a good set of thighs.
At least she and the galaxy agreed on something, she thought bitterly.
They walked pass an artificial air outlet and the breeze blew Zain’s long, dark hair, spraying it in her direction. To fit in, she’d chopped off her mid-back length waves to the brush cut she now wore. She’d learned that styles varied throughout the systems, as they did on Earth. However, at Jupiter Luna Military Base, women generally wore their hair short. So, she wore her hair short. Anything to fit in. Anything to be ignored.
Jupiter. Her damn implant refused to adjust and call it anything else. She had been occasionally tempted to buy one of the hacks off the ExComm, but the cheapest one, and worst rated, cost just about as much as what was in her credit account. Seven years of hell just to afford a shitty hack. She’d suck it up with the poor translations a bit longer.
“Can you believe it? She broke her racket when the ref wouldn’t give her the call!” Zain exclaimed, his brown features alight with excitement.
She gave him a weak smile. In another time, another place, she might have been able to fall in love with Zain, or at least fall into bed with him for a fun summer fling. He had that boyish charm that often got her tangled up with a guy, and too often a bad one at that. Her smile strengthened a little at the memory of the last man she’d dated, well before the fall. Or maybe it should be The Fall, all capitalized and ominous. That’s how her old self would have done it. Today’s Rebecca didn’t give a shit. She was too busy trying to stay alive.
“Security had to escort her off the field!” Zain went on, laughing as he regaled in telling her about the player’s antics. Eventually, they arrived at Zain’s favourite vending machine. The station didn’t really have independent baristas. They had tall vending machines that slurped and gurgled as robotic innards prepared beverages to order with nothing more than a few touches on a screen. “I don’t care what Lewis says, this vendor makes the best brisbin inside Bubble Town.”
Her translator had given her the option to change it to another English-sounding beverage, but brisbin was fine because it had nothing in common with coffee other than an unnatural popularity that teetered on mass addiction. She hated the stuff. It tasted like burnt coffee and hazelnuts that had been brewed several times over until it was nothing more than a thick sludge. Then they added hot sauce.
“I prefer the herbal tea.”
“Nothing more than dried flowers.” He gave a disgusted sound. “Did you drink tea back on Earth?”
She looked at Zain, whose face turned expectant. He asked that question on purpose. They didn’t talk about Earth. Not in the eight months they’d known each other. She knew his feelings had changed for her along the way. She knew he wanted her to trust him. And he’d been pushing lately.
Rebecca wished she could give him what he wanted, but she had nothing left inside her. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept more than a couple of hours at a stretch without nightmares ripping her from her sleep. Rebecca would not go to the doctors; what would they say? They’d send her to the shrinks. They’d want her to talk about what she’d done, how she’d turned herself in. How she’d become a collaborator. A traitor.
What would all that accomplish? Would they try to convince her that her decision was the sensible one? After all, why give up her life for a doomed cause? Would she have even wanted to join one of the local militia groups and fight back? Or would she have been corralled into a refugee camp to waste away? For all she knew, everyone who’d gone on the run had headed north to try to out freeze the invaders. Isn’t that what Canadians always said they’d do if invaded by the U.S.? Make a run for Banff Island and let the hilarity of hypothermia in the invaders begin.
She glanced at Zain. He was no rubber-headed alien, which made it all the worse for her. It would have been easy to turn her back on the cockroach overlords made popular in Earth’s science fiction movies. Sadly, there were no bug people in the galaxy. Just aliens who were humanity’s first cousins. He was human enough, just not one from Earth.
He was still waiting for an answer. Part of her wanted to be rude. Just once to finally shed the shackles of a lifetime of being taught to be nice at any cost. Still, her innate desire to be nice said she owed him an answer, even if the last thing she wanted to do was to remember anything from Earth. How pathetic that internalized bullshit was Earth’s lasting impact upon her.
She gave him a casual shrug. “There’s nothing here that’s like what I drank on Earth. I do like the House Mix herbal tea that comes in all the machines, though.”
The answer seemed to placate him. They stood in line at the vending machine, where they could grab their beverages and a snack for a subsidized fee. There were some paid vendors down below with a wider range of offerings, but Rebecca didn’t like to spend the little money she earned. She wasn’t a citizen, thus didn’t make nearly as much as the likes of Zain. She was also still paying back the money that was invested into her training once she’d defected.
Fucking coward. That’s all she was. If Kat could only see her now. She’d spit on Rebecca. She would probably let Kat do far more. Anything to put her out of her misery. A chill went through her body as she pictured putting a pistol to her head, just like Kat would probably do to her. She’d not slept with her light off in seven years, but it had been some time since the nightmares haunted her waking moments. But the last few days, her mind wandered.
Her imagination conjured the faces of her family as they were escorted into the transport trucks to move them to “safety.” Were they still alive? Did they stay and fight?
What actually had happened to Kat in that fire fight? Did she die well? Did she suffer?
Shit. Get a grip, Rebecca. What the fuck is wrong with you today?
Fatigue. That’s all it was. She’d not taken a day off in two years. No one understood it, not even her superiors who were mostly fair and nice people, considering they were working for the invading conquerors. Where would she go if she took a break? What would she do other than think about how she was alive because she’d turned her back on her world to save her own skin?
Zain punched in his usual order: extra-large brisbin, quadruple hot sauce, quadruple cream.
Kat had apparently died in a coffee shop, of all places. They’d told her that Kat and some of her army buddies who’d gone rogue had attacked a group of facilitators who’d just wanted a cup of hot brew. Could a person go rogue for defending their home? Wasn’t that just being a freedom fighter? Kat was military, doing her job. How was that going rogue?
“We had powdered cream on Earth, too,” Rebecca muttered without even thinking. Zain gave her a sidelong glance. She knew he was going for nonchalant, but his lip curled just enough for her to know she’d given him a small measure of false hope. She’d opened up just a millimeter more to him. That was not her plan. She had to get herself together and soon, or else she’d end up mercy fucking him just to get him off her back, and she didn’t see that as a path to anywhere stabilizing.
The machine whizzed and gurgled before filling up Zain’s mug that he’d stuffed under the spout. Rebecca shoved her own mug under the spout and ordered the House Mix, a flower blossom herbal tea which was actually pretty good. It didn’t remind her of home, where she’d drank cinnamon-sprinkled lattes on her way to work every day to her R&D job at a secret weapons development centre. Not reminding her of home was a good thing, though unfortunately her mind just twisted it to be about home.