Novels2Search

Chapter Eighteen

Miles relaxed back into his chair as he sipped his coffee. It had been three hours since Lt. Commander Klyker had fired the laser turret into the Andromedan vessel. He had then thankfully been relieved from his post since. After catching some sleep, Miles had wandered over to a deserted lounge for some peace and quiet as he waited for the next shift.

It seemed everyone else was preoccupied with their duties. Several dozen teams had been dispatched over to the Hyperion. Escorted by marines, they were conducting a full exploration of the Andromedan ship. He heard from some crew members that they had gotten life support fully back online and that Commander Terese was now attempting to lead an effort to translate the controls on the bridge.

The Captain was still personally supervising the search for possible stasis pods, but strangely nothing of the sort had been found. It was another mystery to add to the ship. Even hours later, no traces of the ship’s crew could be found. It was like they had all vanished. Finally, Lt. Commander Klyker was overseeing the deployment of long range sensors into nearby star systems. If a ship was coming, they should be to detect it long before it arrived.

Miles glanced out the window. He could see the Andromedan vessel from his vantage point on the Hyperion. The ancient vessel glided silently above the stormy gas giant. One thing that puzzled him was the large thrusters—or what looked like thrusters—close the rear of the ship.

The design all but confirmed the ship didn’t conform with standard Newtonian Laws of physics. Much like the Hyperion, it didn’t concern itself with the problems of acceleration, and so its design was freed from the typical considerations of space travel. However, no one had been able to figure out how precisely the ship was supposed to move. Let alone how it crossed galaxies. Another mystery for later. He thought as he took another sip of his drink.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone enter the empty lounge. Stopping by the food dispenser, the man retrieved a glass of water before coming over. “You mind if I take a seat?” he asked.

Miles turned to see the priest he had noticed earlier from the bridge. Wearing a black cassock, the elderly man seemed to stoop over a little as he walked. Miles had to raise an eyebrow at that. Most people didn’t elect to let themselves age that far. They preferred their bodies shut down over the course of a few days. If they decided to age naturally to their deaths, then over the course of a decade at most.

“Sure.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Thank you.” The priest took a seat next to him, slowly reclining into the chair. “You’re Miles Kieth, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah.” He answered, realizing this was going to be a conversation. Miles crossed arms and turned away from the window. “Yours?”

“Most call me Father Soren.” The old priest sipped from his glass.

“Well Father, I hate to leave you but…”

“Would you mind staying?” The old man tapped his finger on the table. “I would like to talk to you.”

Miles smirked. “I’m not much of a religious man, Father. There’s an old saying where I’m from. Priests are only good for two things—“

“Sucking oxygen and making carbon.” The old priest groaned and rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard better. Braith was never known for its wit.”

Miles frowned. His tolerance for the priest was quickly running out. “And how do you know I’m from Braith?”

Father Soren eyed him. “I had to double-check to make sure it was you. At first, I thought the name was just a coincidence. I used to do some missionary work in the Outer Systems. You had quite a reputation, Miles Kieth. The savior of Braith from Kordite hounds.”

“I’m glad my reputation precedes me.” Miles raised his coffee mug to Father Soren.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” The priest put an arm on the table. “You saved fifty thousand colonists after the Yenan Congress abandoned them on a rocky moon. You ran a convoy in just three days to get them off world before an incoming gamma event scorched the surface.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Miles smiled a little. “All in a day’s work.”

Father Soren continued. “And you also bombed a hospital on Crawen Prime. Started war between two protectorates that’s still going on today.”

The grin died from his face. “What do you want from me?”

“Angel of the people by day. And devil of the Free Exchange by night.” Father Soren watched him with glaring eyes. “How does that work, I wonder?”

Miles reassessed the old priest. While he looked unimpressive, balding head and gnarled features, the man carried himself with a certain sense of refinement. Blue eyes undimmed with age judged him, though Miles had no idea what the priest was thinking. Regardless, it was all true what the man had said. He had committed many such acts, some better and others far worse over the course of his life.

He knew somewhat of the Free Exchange’s plans. They controlled the galaxy through a delicate balance of power. Protectorates were designed from their inception to fall before they could become a threat. Usually, they would collapse on their own. However, sometimes the Free Exchange needed men like Miles Kieth. Men to give that little extra push needed to send things back into chaos. Hopefully, some of his good deeds balanced it out. He tried where he could. That was at least one thing to take comfort in.

He examined the old man sitting across from him. There was no telling how much this Father Soren knew. The thought crossed his mind that this might be a trap from Mr. Tannis. He wouldn’t have put it past the slimy bureaucrat, but something about this told him it wasn’t. Miles knew the sort of people Tannis employed, and this priest seemed to be something else.

Miles decided on playing it straight. It seemed this priest knew a whole lot more about him than he would’ve preferred.

He shot the old man an annoyed look. “I’m a survivor. Sometimes you have to do dirty stuff to keep going on. I’m not ashamed of that.”

Father Soren nodded his head. “But surviving isn’t quite living, is it?” he asked pointedly.

Miles glared at the man. “Don’t you dare act like you know a damn thing about me. You don’t. You weren’t forced to make the choices I had. You have no right to judge me for them.”

The priest crossed his arms. “Tell that to the dead.”

“I’m leaving.” Miles pushed himself up from the table. He had about enough of this.

Father Soren looked at him with disinterest at this new development. “I may be a son of a bitch, but I am actually trying to help you, Mr. Kieth. And I know you hate the Exchange just as much as I do. You wouldn’t have reacted badly otherwise.”

Miles squinted at him. Was that a test? Probing him to see where he stood with the Exchange? If so, this man was far more devious than Miles anticipated.

“Who are you?” he asked the priest.

Father Soren’s cold eyes looked up towards him. “Same as you. Just a bitter old man who’s suffered because of them. Sit down, and we might be able to help each other.”

Miles gave out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re funny, you know that? I don’t know how you managed to slip your way on the Hyperion without them noticing, but I’ve got some news for you. Everyone who goes against the Free Exchange loses. So whatever you think you’ve got going on, shove it.”

He knew that deep within his bones, there wasn’t any point. The Free Exchange had their plans, and there was nothing he could do. He could only pray that he could escape before they latched their tendrils onto him again. That was his hope, to finally be his own man. To be truly free.

“And how do you know that?” the priest asked.

Miles placed a hand on the table and stooped over the priest. “I’ve seen it. I know a man named Glen Tannis. He can take a person and know everything they do before they do it. In a single conversation, he convinced a friend of mine—one of the toughest guys I ever knew—to kill himself in an hour.”

“And you fear him so much that you won’t raise a hand against him even several million light years away?”

He slowly nodded his head. “Yes.”

“That’s your decision.” The priest sighed. “I cannot convince you otherwise, but answer me one last question.”

Miles considered leaving, but something told him to stay. If this man was going up against the Exchange, then so be it. Maybe there was a one in a million chance he could do some damage after all. But for himself, Miles knew that just because they were on the other side of the galaxy didn’t mean the Exchange wasn’t right here in the ship.

They had a plan. Whatever they wanted, it was happening right now on this vessel. Even if no one knew it. They would get what they want once again, and no one was going to change that fact.

“As I said, I know the Free Exchange,” the priest spoke. “And I know they’ve got plans for this ship. So tell the me this one thing. Why are you here?”

Miles snorted. “Why do you think the Free Exchange brought me on? I was the best pilot in the spiral arm.”

Father Soren didn’t flinch. “I know you’ve had your dealings with the Free Exchange. I’ve had my own fair share myself. They started the war against my home. So I’ll repeat the question. Why are you here?”

Miles knew exactly what the man was referring to. Everything was intentional with the Exchange. There were no mistakes or bad judgement. There was a purpose to everything. To assume it was as simple as needing a pilot was naïve. He knew it. He just hoped differently.

“I don’t know,” he finally said.

“Then I suggest you find out,” the priest remarked “For your own sake if not mine. And you best do it quickly because I don’t think any of us are going to like what they’ve got planned.”