Echoes of Avarice

by Brendan O'Neill

  “Fifteen hundred hours,” said Mason as she looked at the clock’s soft display. “Less than thirty minutes.”

  Connor stood, shaken to his core at the sheer recklessness of the decision. It would have taken only a day or two if the Prometheus was still nearby. None of this made any sense. “Then if you’ll excuse me,” Connor said, “I’ve got to find out what’s going on.”

  Chapter 21:

  By the time Connor would have made it to Colonel Bradley’s office the ship would be minutes from its jump. Instead, he dove into the first unlocked storeroom, one of the many unexplored chambers in this particular area of the ship. Inside were rows of dusty racks packed with a multitude of items from the previous crew. Connor passed everything to get to the small view screen on the room’s rear wall. He punched in the code for Colonel Bradley’s office.

  The face of Colonel Bradley’s adjutant appeared on the screen after a few seconds. “I’m afraid Colonel Bradley’s in a meeting and cannot be disturbed, Mr. Harper,” Lieutenant Chen said as soon as he saw Connor. There was an edge to his voice. Not anger… apprehension.

  “It’s important that I speak to Colonel Bradley immediately,” Connor said, his words flowing out in a rush and charged with just as much apprehension.

  “It’s a high-level meeting, Mr. Harper. It’s out of his hands.”

  That made no sense. The only other person on ship that was of equal rank was Captain Yuji, and he dealt with Fleet operations. The only time Captain Yuji had the authority to give an order to Colonel Bradley would be in a joint operation under Fleet jurisdiction. Assuming that was the case, the captain had always shown more restraint and patience before.

  “I was told the Pegasus is jumping into a warzone,” Connor said. “We can’t jump before we drop off the civilian passengers.”

  Lt. Chen opened his mouth, then his eyes flicked to the side as though he saw something. Or heard something. The apprehension in his body language skyrocketed.

  “I’m afraid we can’t help you, Connor. I suggest you return to your quarters and stay there.” Lt. Chen’s hand reached toward the bottom of Connor’s screen, and the connection was terminated.

  Connor continued to stare at the dim screen that had the name Pegasus fading in and out as his mind reeled. Lt. Chen said ‘we’ couldn’t help. The Lt. has no real power, he’s simply an assistant to the colonel. He also called Connor by his first name. He’d never called Connor by his first name before. The man, like the colonel, prided himself on his professionalism.

  Connor turned and walked to the door of the stale storeroom. He leaned against the closed, cold metal for a moment. Maybe it was just his paranoia, making insignificant things seem enormous. But two radical personality changes in one sentence, coupled with the anxiety in Chen’s voice escalated the constant whisper of paranoia at the back of Connor’s head into a full-blown scream.

  The hall was empty when Connor finally pressed the door release. Not uncommon for this mostly unused portion of the ship. But it still felt wrong. Connor couldn’t tell exactly why. Maybe it was just his ever-constant fear. What he did know was the Council needed to be told.

  A quick walk brought Connor to the Council chambers. The doors hissed open to an empty room. From the look of the half-consumed food and drinks, they’d cleared out in a hurry. But why? They couldn’t possibly have learned what he knows.

  The sound of boots in the hall caused Connor to turn. A pair of Fleet troopers he’d never seen marched toward him, pistols strapped to their hips. Connor’s paranoia flared again. There were maybe sixty fleet troopers on the ship, and Connor had met all of them during his security training. So, who the fuck are these guys?

  They locked eyes with Connor as they marched directly to him. Something deep in his head screamed at him to run, but there was no logical reason why. So, Connor pushed the impulse down and stood waiting.

  “Mr. Harper,” one of them said. “You’re to accompany us to the strategy room.”

  Connor watched them carefully for a moment. Neither had their hands near their sidearms. Nor did they show any sign of apprehension. Both reeked of confidence and control. They had no reason to worry. They were dealing with a stupid civilian playing at being a soldier.

  “Uh, yeah guys, no problem.” Connor shot them his most inane smile. As Rana had taught him, use your opponent’s weaknesses against them. Including overconfidence. May as well let these two think he’s helpless. The soldiers took up a position on either side of him, escorting him as though a prisoner. All he was missing were chains.

  “So, uh, you fellows know what this is all about?” Connor looked to each man for a response, but the best he received was a slight shrug form the man on his left. Both kept their eyes straight ahead.

  The one working elevator was a several hundred-yard march through the imposing halls of the ship. About the middle of the march, Connor felt the unnerving sensation of his body being pulled in every direction.

  The ship jumped.

  Connor was still trying to shake off that skin crawling sensation when they reached the elevator doors. No sooner had those doors closed than Connor felt the delicate touch of Krieger’s mind upon his own.

  Connor, I’ve just been made aware that you are to meet with Colonel Bradley. I need you to do me a favor.

  The elevator’s speed made Connor’s stomach drop into his shoes as it raced toward the command deck. It wasn’t helping the unnerving sensation he was still trying to shake off. What do you need?

  I haven’t been able to scan the command deck. Krieger’s mind delicately whispered. They must have set up a psychic suppression field over the entire area. But as strong as your latent telepathic ability is, we should be able to create a bridge that will pierce that field.

  Yeah, I’m not so sure about that.

  I can sense the other two minds next to you. Where do you think those two individuals came from?

  I’ll admit, I wondered that, Connor thought back. I can’t have missed both of them after all this time.

  You didn’t miss them. Krieger’s desperation was starting to show itself as a nagging push in Connor’s mind. They weren’t here before two days ago. You need answers as do I. If you help me with this, I will tell you everything I’ve learned about the current situation.

  Connor hesitated, considering the dilemma.

  You have to decide soon, Mr. Harper. You need an ally in this and if you don’t solidify the link on your end before you reach the command deck, the suppression field will sever our connection.

  After another split second of contemplation, Connor mentally seized the tenuous link Krieger had established. He used the same technique that he’d previously used on Krieger’s assistant when she touched his mind months ago. He’d used that connection to lock Nataliya Petrenko’s mind in place against her will. Now it held Krieger’s link firmly in place as the elevator entered the command deck.

  Connor felt the field impact on their mental connection as an explosion in his head. The explosion was less pain than disconcertion. For a split second, Connor felt like he was back in the regeneration pod, his world a complete lack of understanding and conscious thought. Nothing made sense, not even his own mind. A heartbeat later it was over, Connor was leaning against the back wall of the elevator as the door opened.

  The troopers only glanced at Connor, then smirked at each other. It wasn’t hard to read their expressions. Dumb-ass civilian pussy. He started for the door, but one of them held out a hand to stop him.

  “Relinquish your weapon,” the trooper said.

  Connor’s heart skipped a beat. Did they know about the pistol on his ankle? He couldn’t help his eyes darting in terror. But the other trooper motioned to the knife on his belt. Relief flooded him and his body was shaking. Connor looked at the knife as he removed it, working a bit slower than necessary. He used the time to recompose.

  He shouldn’t be this nervous. As a member of the Civilian Security Force, Connor was well within his rights to c
arry a weapon on board. Even so, he almost panicked. Confusion and stress were amplifying his paranoia to an almost uncontrollable level.

  Stay calm, Mr. Harper, Krieger’s mind whispered. You’re doing fine.

  One of the troopers started off and when Connor didn’t react with the expected alacrity, he was shoved by the other trooper. One trooper in front and one behind, Connor felt even more like a prisoner than before. His head continuously swiveled and eyes darted as he walked through the narrow hallway, but there was nothing to see but the cold, gray metal hallway. Every twenty feet another pair of Fleet Troopers he’d never met stood guard on either side of the hall.

  Where the fuck did they all come from? Connor passed down the psychic link to Krieger.

  Focus on the here and now, Mr. Harper. Explanations come later.

  The troopers stopped him at a door at the end of the hall. It was the first door Connor had seen on the ship that opened traditionally. Knob and everything. With a quick exchange of looks, one trooper slipped inside. After about a ten-count, the door opened again and he was motioned in.

  It’s obvious that the room used to be a conference room. It was almost three times larger than Connor’s quarters. It likely once had a large conference table at its center, but not now. Instead, it was stripped bare except for a large personal metal desk near the back of the room with three simple metal chairs facing it. Two familiar figures in the simple metal chairs turned to look at Connor. Colonel Bradley and Captain Yuji looked at him with almost unreadable faces. Almost. Each had a hint of… desperation? Maybe frustration. Either way, it was not shared by the man sitting in the plush chair behind the desk.

  “Connor Harper, I presume?” The man stood as he spoke, offering a hand. Connor shook it, with more than a little reservation. The man motioned to the last metal chair facing his desk and sat, motioning the Fleet trooper toward the door. The man left, closing the door behind him.

  “My name is Vice Admiral Christian Rhondak, and I’m very pleased to meet one of the most influential members of our civilian population.” The admiral’s uniform wasn’t the standard fleet uniform that he’d become used to. This looked ornate, and fancy. Probably the formal dress version. Its lapel was bright red to signify the importance of his rank. The rest of it was so flawlessly white it was almost painful to look at under the harsh fluorescent lighting. His matching hat was placed at the left bottom corner of the desk, exactly one inch from the bottom edge and exactly one inch from the left edge. Rhondak’s dark hair was brushed back and graying heavily on the sides. Under a thick moustache he wore a smile that was so obviously insincere that, for once, Connor did not doubt his paranoia.

  Be mindful with him, Mr. Harper, Krieger’s mind whispered in his head. I know this man. He’s extremely dangerous. Choose what you tell him very carefully!

  Understood, was all Connor sent back. “I don’t think I’m that popular,” Connor said aloud. “You’ll want to talk to the Council for that.”

  “In time I will, of course. But don’t sell yourself short… may I call you Connor?”

  Connor nodded noncommittally.

  Admiral Rhondak pressed a button on his desk, and a view screen slid up out of the back right section of the desk. The man made a big show of looking intently at the information as though it were of the greatest importance.

  “According to the reports filed by both Captain Yuji and Colonel Bradley…” Admiral Rhondak said, “…you boosted moral in both the civilian and military personnel with those televids of yours. Then, on your first assignment, your team was able to appropriate the photon guide bridges necessary to bring the Pegasus’ primary systems online. And all without having to trade anything for them. At the same time, you rescued two victims from a local tyrant and discovered two of the most valuable ships imaginable. Both of which have now been added to our fleet.”

  “Others were with me,” Connor said. “One of which didn’t make it.”

  “Ah, yes. Sergeant William Carter. “That was a tragedy. But sacrifices must be made in war.” The admiral’s pale attempt at sympathy felt more an insult to Connor than anything else. Rhondak’s eyes again shifted to the view screen only he could see. “And if that wasn’t enough, when the Prometheus was boarded by hostiles, your file shows you eliminated no less than eight of those blasted bugs. It says here you singlehandedly saved everyone inside the medical bay. That would be quite an achievement for a professional. As a civilian it’s astounding.”

  Connor’s skin was crawling. The man reminded him of Paxton. The same kind of self-assured pathological narcissist that craved the exaltation of rulership. He sat, smiling at Connor like the proverbial Cheshire cat, obviously believing Connor was buying into his propaganda. Man probably thought of himself as some form of god. A god who was talking down to a child.

  “It wasn’t quite single handedly,” Connor said quietly. “Dr. Dawud helped and I was rescued in the end by Tejeda.” He was afraid. Very afraid. This man reminded him so much of Paxton that he thought he’d vomit. It couldn’t just be paranoia, something that’s just written off as nothing. This had to be a real, valid instinct.

  “Be that as it may, you have a tendency to be in the right place at just the right time,” Admiral Rhondak continued, the intensity in his voice rising. “Blast it all, son! You were on the one of the six teams that discovered Titanspear missiles. Do you have any idea how rare those are? You and your friends have a set of skills that I intend to put to use. You’re wasted as a glorified security guard on this ship. I want you on the front line.”

  Connor had to swallow back vomit several times. That transitional anger was flaring badly. And his paranoia was just feeding that anger, turning it into frenzied rage. He had to close his eyes and count backwards from ten just to stabilize his voice.

  “What of the Council of Civilian Oversight?” Connor asked. Even with the countdown, rage muted his voice into a whisper. “I’m supposed to be their liaison.”

  Admiral Rhondak’s eyes narrowed with his snake-like smile. He settled back into his seat, to gaze upon his newest puppet. “I’m afraid that’ll not be possible for the moment. The office has been sequestered in secure quarters for their own protection. As soon as is prudent, they’ll be moved to a classified location to ensure their safety. After all, I’m sure our newly fledged government would make a very tempting target for the Ka’Rathi. We need to keep them safe until a security network can be built around them.”

  Connor tried to push his mind into functionality, try to imagine any possible actions or responses to this narcissist. But rage stalled out his mind. No matter how hard he tried, rage shut down his ability to think of anything but jumping over the table and choking the smug bastard. Not to be outdone, Connor’s paranoia sent a constant flood of uncomfortably realistic images of his persecution and even death. His reeling mind could only form one cogent thought.

  “What are you going to have me do?”

  “You are, as of this moment, reassigned,” Rhondak responded. “In one hour you will board the Pelé which will take you to an unnamed location. There you will work with a team that I personally assembled in order to help put an end to the Ka’Rathi threat once and for all.”

  “And until then?”

  “Until then, Mr. Harper, I suggest you set your affairs in order. I’m sure you have some packing to do and goodbyes to share.”

  Connor looked to both Colonel Bradley and Captain Yuji, but neither spoke. Their faces gave him hard, but helpless expressions. His options seemed to be minimal. In fact, he didn’t have any. But he could, at least, prepare himself a bit more than Admiral Rhondak expected.

  Connor stood, giving himself a chance to look down his nose at the man. “Well then, if I might be excused?”

  Rhondak waved a hand that was both dismissive and disinterested at the gnat that obviously wasn’t worth his attention. Connor turned and opened the door, both the Fleet troopers waiting outside to escort their annoying, undesirable baggage off the command
deck. They escorted him to the elevator before returning his knife. It was only when the elevator doors closed that he noticed that Krieger was no longer in his mind. That’s fine. He needed to talk to the man in person anyway.

  Chapter 22:

  “Who the fuck is that?” Connor shouted as he stomped into Krieger’s quarters. The old man was almost trampled by Connor as he stalked into the room, his face red with rage. “Why the fuck is he turning my life inside out?!”

  When Connor felt someone behind him place a hand on his shoulder, his anger and paranoia trampled clear thought. Lavi’s training took hold.

  Lightning fast, his hand shot behind him, connecting solidly with the groin of whoever his paranoia had labeled an attacker. Before the offending hand could move more than an inch away, his hand was already snaking around the arm attached to that hand. Connor was just shoving his hips back for a hip thrust, when he noticed a flash of familiar blonde hair.

  “Oh shit, Nataliya, I’m sorry,” Connor said. “Are you all right?” Even though he hadn’t finished the hip thrust, he’d wrenched her arm badly.

  The Ukrainian rubbed her shoulder, her brows knitted together in pain, but nodded. “Yes, I think so. Was that really necessary?”

  “Sorry,” he said again. “It was a reaction.” Connor couldn’t understand why he felt so guilty for his actions. A little guilt would be normal, but he felt like he just kicked a puppy. It was just a reaction after all. He certainly hadn’t meant to hurt her.

  “She understands, Mr. Harper,” Krieger said. Standing behind Connor, he wisely kept his distance until he was sure Connor knew he was there. “As do I. But right now, we don’t have time. You must listen carefully.”

  Connor cast one last look at Nataliya, their eyes connecting for just a moment. In that moment understanding seemed to pass between them, far deeper than two people barely more than strangers should. She gave him a strained smile and nod, then the connection was gone. She was up and away, working on a small portable computer resting on Krieger’s thin metal table.