Chapter 12 - Debts and Dilemmas

  Kara Voss watched as Darius Kallan left the room, subtly signalling for Harlan to remain behind and carefully keeping her thoughts off her face. If she’d known how much of a headache he would be, she never would have accepted Finn’s request, no matter how much she owed him. After all, debts of gratitude could be settled in more straightforward ways than by accepting unknown variables into her command.

  Once the door clicked shut, she turned to Harlan, who looked like he was trying very hard to seem unfazed. She gave him a level look, letting the silence stretch long enough to make him shift.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  Harlan blinked, seeming to realise she expected more than idle patience from him. “He’s… a strange one, isn’t he?” he started, clearing his throat. “But no, nothing overtly suspicious yet. Aside from the attitude.”

  Voss allowed herself a slight, dry smile. “That’s the one thing I’m not worried about. Sure, Kallan’s got a mouth on him, but there’s something else. Doesn’t quite add up.” She folded her arms, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her elbow. “The name Kallan rings a bell.”

  Harlan straightened, alarmed. “You think he’s Imperial?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I looked into his criminal records, and they’re real enough. The Empire doesn’t care enough about us to go to those lengths to insert a double agent into our numbers – especially because there’s no way we wouldn’t be suspicious.”

  She drummed her fingers against the cheap wood of her temporary desk, already regretting the unfortunate necessity of sending most of their supplies and personnel away. She missed her comfortable chair most of all. But even though whatever Kallan was doing to keep himself off the Empire’s radar seemed to be working, she wasn’t in the habit of taking unnecessary risks.

  Harlan gave her a cautious nod. “So, what do you need from me?”

  She met his eyes, letting him feel the weight of her words. “Keep an eye on him. Nothing intrusive – just… watch. If he’s up to something, I want to know before he slips the net. He did well out there, suspiciously well. It’s unlikely a random salvage technician has the aim needed to disable a vehicle in the middle of a chase, especially when, by all accounts, he’s never even held a gun before. That’s not even getting into the whole ‘VI’ thing, which is suspicious as hell on its own.”

  “Not hard to see he’s hiding things there,” Harlan nodded. “I’ll make sure to be discrete.”

  “Good.” She adjusted her coat, glancing at the door Darius had exited through. “I’ll be reaching out to a few contacts to see if anyone on the outside can give me a clearer picture of his story. Hopefully, I’ll be able to figure out why the name seems familiar as well. In the meantime, we’re going to have to step some things up.”

  She paused to lean back and run a hand down her face, letting some of her exhaustion show. No one had ever said leading a cell of dissidents would be easy, but even by the usual standards things were happening fast.

  And to think she had only taken this assignment because Merrik had assured her Caldera IV was as dull as they came.

  After a minute of running through the possible options, she finally leaned forward with a sigh. “I want you and your squad to hit the Imperial records building. Copy as much data as you can, then delete the rest. They’ll have backups, but it’ll set them back and disguise what we really want.”

  “And what do we really want?” Harlan said, a little terse.

  Voss knew that this was the sort of job the older man preferred to avoid. He wasn’t much of a believer himself, but at least he was loyal enough to his team to care about their wellbeing. The tendency to push back when he thought specific missions were too risky was an inconvenience that she just had to put up with – worth it to keep a reliable asset on the team.

  “Predominately, anything they have on trade routes and military deployments over the last five years. Empire wide. If you have enough time, power distribution and allocation records from across the station.”

  Harlan frowned, clearly taken aback at the strange request. She couldn’t blame him, really – the Freeholders had never really bothered to look into anything too far-reaching. As a whole, their group tended to be made up of realists, the type that knew fighting the Empire as a whole was a waste of time. The fools that dreamed of ‘changing the system’ didn’t tend to last very long.

  So the fact that she had direct orders – from the very top – to look into trade routes and military deployments of all things was very odd. Especially because, as a whole, each Freeholder cell had almost complete autonomy. It was called the Freeholder Alliance for a reason – there wasn’t much in the way of a central authority, just a group of people or organisations with similar goals.

  “Why…?”

  “Don’t ask. I don’t even know – all I know is that this is important, and we’re not the only ones being asked to gather this information.”

  Harlan took a minute to digest that, brow furrowed uneasily. Voss shared his concerns but wasn’t stupid enough to let it show. A leader always had to put up a strong front.

  Eventually, he nodded slowly. “Alright then. What’s our timeframe?”

  “Narrow,” Voss said bluntly. “Within the next two days, at the latest. Let me know if you need any additional resources, but with a little luck, it should be doable with your existing members. The records building is hardly a fortified target, after all.”

  Harlan nodded, turning to leave. There was something in his posture, though, that told Voss he wasn’t done. Sure enough, he reached the door, hesitated, then turned back, face studiously blank.

  “Speaking of luck, it sure is lucky about Kallan’s VI, isn’t it?” He paused, measuring his words. “I mean, considering how the Empire’s likely been watching him. You had to have thought that once he left the jammer, they’d lock on right away. That they’d trace him back here.”

  She looked him dead in the eye, keeping her tone as even as possible. “No, Harlan. I didn’t think of that.”

  The silence that followed was taut, and she could tell Harlan wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head slightly, a look that fell somewhere between scepticism and resignation, but he didn’t press her on it. His hand lingered on the door for a moment longer before he finally nodded.

  “You must have been running drills, then,” he said, jerking his head towards the central area of the base. “By the looks of things, you managed to get pretty much everything cleared out of here in the, what, hour it took for us to get back? Very… efficient.”

  “What can I say? Everyone was motivated by the thought that the Empire could come crashing down at any moment,” Voss replied, tone even.

  Harlan hummed, nodded to himself, and left.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  – – –

  There was an awkward tension in the air as they arrived back in the common room from that morning. Darius was once again struck by how much could change in such a short amount of time.

  A few hours ago, he had never so much as held a weapon before. Now, he had been involved in a running gunfight through the streets of his home. Absently, his hand dropped to the grip of his pistol.

  “You should probably check that,” Tarek said from behind him, pointing at the pistol when Darius gave him a quizzical look. “Always a good idea to check your weapons when you have a spare moment. Keeps them from failing you when you need them.”

  “Oh, right. Uh, thanks.” Darius responded belatedly. Apparently, he must have passed a test of some kind because the man’s previous standoffish attitude was gone. He still wasn’t friendly, but at least he wasn’t as aggressive as before.

  “Here, I’ll give you a hand with that,” Lena chimed in brightly, already moving to take a seat at the table and pull out her own weapon. “Besides, I really want to talk to Echo some more!”

  Tarek snorted. “I’ll leave you two to talk to your imaginary friends then,” he ribbed, disappearing down the corridor leading deeper into the base.

  Darius set the pistol down on the table with a dull thunk, fingers lingering a moment on the grip.

  “Alright, first things first,” Lena said, reaching over and ejecting the magazine of his weapon. “A gun shouldn’t be loaded unless you expect to use it. Any time a weapon is loaded, it’s called ‘live’, and it’s dangerous to everyone. That’s good when you want to be dangerous, but any other time it’s just a needless risk.”

  Darius nodded slowly, absorbing Lena’s advice as he watched her handle the weapon with practised ease. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more—how quickly she could transition from her usual playful demeanour to this matter-of-fact authority, or how naturally he was starting to take her guidance.

  “But isn’t keeping it loaded a good idea in case we get surprised? Like, what if the Empire busted down the doors right now – it’s better to be prepared, right?”

  Lena gave him a slightly pitying look that made him feel more than a little foolish. “Darius, if the Empire was busting down our doors, we’d have bigger problems. The couple of seconds it takes to load is not going to make that much of a difference. Trust me, you’re more likely to shoot yourself or one of your teammates than an actual target if you walk around with a live weapon at all times.”

  “You do have a point,” Darius admitted reluctantly. “How do you know so much about all of this anyway?” he asked, trying to change the subject. Her proficiency with both firearms and tech was impressive, even discounting her relative youth. It was hard to reconcile her easy-going nature with the deadly efficiency she’d displayed during the chase through the crowded streets of Caldera IV.

  Lena hesitated for a moment, and for a brief second, her usual cheerful demeanour cracked. “Let’s just say I’ve been with the Freeholders a long time.”

  After a moment, she recovered some of her cheer. “So, tell me more about Echo! You said you got him from your sister, right? Is she into that sort of stuff?”

  Darius leapt at the subject change, eager to escape the awkward atmosphere. Though to be honest, the topic of his family wasn’t much better. “Ah, yeah. She actually works in a research lab in the core worlds. Not… totally sure what specifically she’s working on, exactly, but yeah.” he trailed off, suddenly realising that telling the Freeholders about his sister’s highly classified work for the Empire might not be the best idea. He wasn’t afraid of being called a double agent or anything, but it wasn’t the best look.

  Fortunately, Lena didn’t seem inclined to press. “That’s cool! So Echo’s pretty custom then, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Darius snorted. “You could say that.”

  Lean tapped her fingers against the table, glancing around the room before leaning in conspiratorially. “Can I… can I talk to him again?” she asked eagerly. “It’s really cool to talk to a VI that isn’t Mayfly. D-Don’t get me wrong, I love Mayfly, but she’s… well, she’s not super advanced.”

  Darius held up for a few seconds under the force of her pleading expression before caving. “Sure, I guess that’s fine,” he laughed before hesitating subtly. He didn’t actually know if Echo was going to play along with this or not. The machine had said it was a good cover earlier, but, well. It was a machine. For all Darius knew, Echo would refuse to do anything it found ‘inefficient’ or something. He could just see the whole thing coming crumbling down already.

  {I, too, would enjoy conversing with you, Ms Ward.} Echo’s voice crackled through the speaker of Lena’s dataslate without warning.

  Or, apparently, it could not be an issue at all.

  Or, hell, it could be an even bigger issue than he thought - Darius had no faith in Echo’s ability to come off as a standard VI. Actually, what was he saying? He had no faith in the damn parasite at all. It was all too easy to forget that the thing pleasantly introducing itself to Lena was currently wrapped around his nervous system like a tumour.

  Darius wasn’t sure if tumours wrapped around anything, but then again, metaphors never had been his strong suit.

  The thought settled heavily in his mind, though. The idea of something—Echo—coiling through his nervous system, subtly weaving itself into him. How far did it go? Was it already altering his perception? Could he trust what he saw, what he heard, what he felt? His stomach churned as he remembered how easily Echo had taken over his augs. At first, he’d thought it was just tech—just the machine parts of him under its control.

  That was bad enough, certainly, but at least he didn’t have much in the way of augments anyway. But now…

  Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  A chill ran down his spine, a quiet voice whispering at the back of his mind: What if it’s already too late? What if Echo had already rewritten parts of him? Would he even know? What if—

  “Oh my stars, you’re awesome!” Lena’s voice pierced through his spiralling thoughts, bright and effervescent. She was practically bouncing in her seat, her eyes alight with excitement. “You’ve got to be the most advanced VI I’ve ever seen!”

  Darius blinked, shaken out of his burgeoning panic. Lena’s enthusiasm felt like whiplash, dragging him from the depths of his thoughts into the stark brightness of the room. He opened his mouth to respond, but his voice caught in his throat.

  “I mean, the way you talk, the way you interact—it’s like you’re alive!” Lena gushed, oblivious to his discomfort. “Mayfly’s good, don’t get me wrong, but you’re just on a whole other level.”

  She beamed at Darius, clearly expecting him to share in her excitement. Instead, he clenched his jaw, shoving his chair back with a screech and standing abruptly. “I need some air.”

  “What?” Lena’s smile faltered, confusion flickering across her face. “Wait, did I say something—?”

  “It’s fine,” Darius cut her off, his tone clipped. “Just… I’ll be back later.”

  Before she could reply, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, ignoring the way her confused gaze bore into his back. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the corridor as he made his way to the main entrance to the base.

  He got a few curious looks as he walked up to the large roller doors in the centre of the largest wall, but fortunately, no one was interested enough to talk to him. He leaned against a stack of crates and let what passed for a refreshing breeze on Exeter Station wash over his face.

  {Is something wrong, Mr Kallan?} asked the source of his problems.

  Darius grit his teeth, warring with the desire to repress or deny the problem like he usually did.

  But no. Not this time. Not when it was something this important.

  “We need to have a talk, you and I,” he muttered under his breath. He was probably far enough away that no one could overhear him, and right now, he didn’t much care if they did.

  {Certainly. What topic would you like to discuss?} the machine asked.

  “The topic of what the hell you’ve done to me!” Darius hissed under his breath. “How do I know you aren’t going to, I don’t know, take me over and pilot my body around like a meat puppet!?”

  {…I do not understand why you believe that would be possible. Or why you believe I would find it an acceptable course of action.}

  It might have just been his imagination, but Darius liked to think he heard a flicker of irritation in the parasite’s voice. The idea of getting under its skin… well, considering it was literally under his skin, turnabout seemed like fair play.

  “How the hell would I know what’s possible? How am I supposed to know anything about this situation, and how the hell am I supposed to trust you!?”

  {I see that I have underestimated the effect the current situation is having on your mental state. I apologise for that. Allow me to answer your question with another question; have I given you cause to doubt my intentions? I understand that our initial introduction was done under less-than-ideal conditions, but since then, I have endeavoured to be nothing but helpful and honest.}

  That was possibly the most Echo had ever said in one go. Was it just him, or was it getting more verbose?

  Darius was well aware his thoughts were drifting in an effort to let him not have to think about what the thing had just said. As much as he hated to admit it – and he really, really hated to admit it – it actually had been reasonably honest.

  At least, as far as he could tell.

  He slumped against the wall, running a hand through his hair in frustration. It felt like a tangled mess, like it always did when he couldn’t sleep. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I just have a lot of questions.”

  {That is an understandable reaction to this situation. Perhaps there would be some benefit to more tangibly defining the nature of our relationship?}

  Darius winced. “Maybe let’s call it something other than a relationship. But… sure. Probably overdue, to be honest.”

  25 whole chapters on !