I left the ComStar HPG compound in a daze.
In fact, I barely remember leaving, the hallways all blurred together as my mind kept repeating the same thing over and over and over again, like an ancient record-disc player that had gotten jammed.
She’s trying to get me killed, I thought.“Are you alright, sir?” asked a ComStar acolyte, looking concerned beneath his hooded robe.“Yes, yes, just some surprising news,” I said, waving him off. George met me out in the front of the compound, the staff car idling by the side of the road. I slipped inside and shut the door firmly.“Back to base, George,” I said, sighing. “Very good, sir,” my adjutant said, nodding. We pulled away from the curb and merged back into the New Glasgow traffic. Neither of us spoke on the return trip. Knowing him as well as I did, George was probably very curious about what had been so important in the first place, but he was a professional, and this car was not a secure location. Someone could have slipped a listening device into it, or pointed a laser microphone at the windshield as we drove.Annoyingly, this left me sitting alone with my thoughts as we slammed into rush-hour traffic – exactly the situation that I didn’t want to be in. The isolation, that is, not the driving. Although on a professional basis, I must point out that being stuck in a car in bumper-to-bumper traffic is a surprisingly vulnerable position.
Handle it, she said, I thought darkly. Oh yes, what a wonderful instruction, Katrina. Just… ‘handle it’. Even Margaret Aten got more instructions than I did!I glanced down at the messenger bag in my hands. A ComStar acolyte had been forced to quickly dig one out of their storage and provide it to me. The data-drive with Katrina’s instructions to the Archduchess was small enough that I could have simply stuck it in a pocket and walked out, but the second item was different.
A verigraphed letter from ComStar was not an old-fashioned paper or parchment letter. The actual physical item was a datapad that contained a basic text message, the same as you might find anywhere in the Inner Sphere. What made it special was the verigraph, which required a DNA sample in order to unlock the contents.Usually, verigraphs were security devices. You’d add them to footlockers if you were paranoid, or sometimes to BattleMechs (though a BattleMech’s computer systems could be unreasonably finicky about such things).Practically speaking, there wasn’t much point to verigraphing a datapad like this. It kept your things secure, but it couldn’t be used by anyone else, so you couldn’t send it via courier, or transmit instructions, or anything useful. It was a very secure memo, and little more.
There was one singular exception, however. A verigraphed letter from ComStar was an identifier, not a security measure. If you paid for that service, then that letter was iron-clad confirmation of identity for both the sender and the recipient. I had the direct word of a Successor Lord sitting in my pocket. Everything in the Lyran Commonwealth was at my disposal, so long as I could justify the expenditure to Katrina. I had the equivalent on an Inquisitorial Rosette sitting in my hands.
And I had absolutely no idea how to use that authority.
I’m not saying that I’m a clueless fool, of course. I’m quite decent at criminal investigations, but that’s the thing. Criminals are usually rather stupid. Political terrorists were an entirely different breed of problem. It was less about their intelligence, and more about their motivations.
While I thought the supporters of Free Skye were incredibly idiotic, they were not motivated by their own inability to figure out that crime was a losing proposition. They were motivated by their deeply held beliefs, both political and philosophical, and those are exactly the worst kinds of enemies, because they will stop at absolutely nothing to achieve their goals. Their very own survival, while preferable, was secondary to their cause, and that was a very difficult thing to fight against.
It was the same reason that the Commissariat and the Inquisition employed people with similar kinds of fanaticism – although their motivations were, of course, far nobler than Free Skye’s.
As well, I was an outsider here. Not just to the planet of Skye, but to the Lyran Commonwealth as a whole. For all that I’d spent years within the Commonwealth’s borders, and was a perfectly normal Lyran by most people’s expectations, I was often blindsides or confused by cultural behaviors and norms that I found ludicrous.
But failure was not an option. Not just because of the risk that Free Skye might actually succeed with a third attempt to kill me (I didn’t count the attempt on Archduchess Aten, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time), but also because of a much more dangerous proposition: the displeasure of the Archon herself!
The anger of a Steiner is not to be trifled with, as I was well aware of.
There’s a plaza on Tharkad where Archon Viola Steiner-Dinesen literally crushed one of her enemies under the foot of her BattleMech. Katrina piloted that very same Warhammer, and over the course of our adventure in the Periphery, I’d seen her replicate the feat (no pun intended) on more than one occasion. Katrina was a friend, and a dear one, but sometimes she reminded me far more of the Inquisitors I had known. Particularly in their utmost determination to sacrifice anything and everything for the betterment of the nation.I was not the first man to get a letter like this from Katrina. Another of my good friends, Morgan Kell, had received the same thing four years ago, just after we’d couped out Alessandro. He had used that letter to great effect in Weingarten system, where he’d been forced to relieve his own commanding officer and take charge of all LCAF forces on the planet. Morgan had won that battle, thanks to Katrina’s authorization… but it had also killed his career. Just last year, he’d finally resigned from the LCAF in frustration, after all the political trouble he got into – particularly with Archduke Selvin Kelswa, the ruler of Tamar.
That example was fresh in my mind as we drove along. Morgan had been given the same kind of responsibility and power as me, and he’d used it well – right up until he’d fallen on his sword for the sake of the Lyran Commonwealth.It was one of the main reasons why Katrina’s nickname – the Iron Bitch – worked so well… because it was true. Katrina was the kind of person who could sacrifice her friends for the sake of her country. And it fit Morgan, as well. He still had that letter, still carried it in the Federated Suns as the leader of the Kell Hounds, because he was willing to make that sacrifice again.
But unfortunately, I was not the kind of self-sacrificing person that Morgan Kell was. And thus, still the question remained: how to actually enact Katrina’s desires? Most people might think that the first step would be to contact Margaret Aten, and inform her of the Archon’s order. After all, the Archduchess had told me to do the job, and I’d refused, and now the situation had forced me into the role nonetheless! Perhaps, one might think, I could hope that Aten herself had already started putting together an organization to handle the investigation, and I could swoop in to take all the credit without doing the work!
But that would be a mistaken assumption. Trusting a local noble to competently handle an insurrection was an exercise in absurdity. If they could handle it, then the insurrection would have been handled years ago. As well, sheepishly walking in the same door after you’d just defiantly strode outwards was a bad idea.No, no. I needed to get everything planned out before I informed Margaret Aten, if only to save my own neck from her venomous anger.
Yet that brought me back to the same issue: I had absolutely no idea how to handle this investigation!
I couldn’t possibly admit that, so I had to come up with something. Even the most basic of things!Think, Cai! I told myself, biting my lip. What would a proper Inquisitor do?Well, for starters, a proper Inquisitor wouldn’t be taking orders from a mere planetary noble. They answered to a higher authority.
Secondly, they’d already have set up some kind of base of operations, usually on a starship of some kind.
Thirdly, they’d have their retinue; a handpicked crew of experts.
Fourth, they’d have a target in mind, some lead or clue that had tipped them off in the first place to the problem.I glanced down at the messenger bag in my lap, and the verigraphed letter inside.Four things. That’s all I really needed to start. And lucky me, I already had the first one – direct authority from the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth.Now all I needed was a base of operations, a handpicked crew of experts, and a target.
It was probably best to tackle those in order. It’s hard to recruit someone when you don’t have so much as a conference room reserved. Makes you look rather incompetent.Tempting as it was, I probably needed to avoid the 10th Lyran Regulars garrison. A DEST ninja had already infiltrated it once, and while we’d tightened security, I have a learned distrust of locations that have already been breached. Better to relocate to some new location. And though this was getting ahead of myself a little, the investigation team would need more than just soldiers in order to get the job done, and re-housing civilians on the military base sounded like a headache.No, what I needed as a base of operations was someplace secure. Ideally, it would be centrally located. Preferably with good amounts of computers for my investigators to use. Maybe even some beds, a kitchen, those essential things, so that the investigators could devote themselves fully to the case. A thought creeped into my mind. It was absurd. Ludicrous, even. But I knew the moment it occurred that it was the correct option.“George,” I said, speaking for the first time in ten minutes. “Change of plans. We’re not going back to base.”“Oh?” my adjutant asked, glancing at me.“Take me to the Archducal Palace,” I said. “I believe I should talk with Margaret Aten about a favor.”
Xxxx
We arrived at Honor of Skye in about the same time as it would have taken to return to the garrison, even though the palace was much further away, thanks to lighter traffic.The palace looked different now, though little had changed in its exterior. Instead, the difference was the visible presence of guards. Large retractable gates had been pulled across the entrances with delicate wrought iron trellises, while ferrocrete barriers were positions behind them for actual effectiveness.
Guardsmen had abandoned their decorative security shacks and were instead in the fortified guardhouses that I’d seen on my first visit.And, of course, there were the BattleMechs roaming the palace’s exterior. I could see at least a full Lance right now, and I had little doubt that another Lance was on standby inside the palace’s hangar, just in case.Security had tightened, and considerably. Perfectly understandable, but in this moment, not exactly preferable.“I’m happy to wait, but you must inform the Archduchess,” I said, repeating myself. “I’ve already passed word along, Hauptmann Cain,” the guardsmen told me with a dismissive voice. “But no one is entering without permission. No matter your rank or status.”Turned away at the gate. Wonderful.I walked back to where George had parked the staff car, and thought about complaining to him. It certainly wouldn’t have been the most professional of moves, but it was tempting. I refrained, of course. “We need to get in there,” I muttered to him, as soon as I’d re-entered the cab. “Have you got any ideas?”George gave me a very flat look, then flicked his eyes to the Battlemechs standing sentry.
That was a ‘no’, then.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t very likely that I’d be able to get through to the Archduchess any time soon. Her messaging service was probably under siege from the planetary nobility offering their angry condemnations for her broadcast at the charity horserace yesterday, or their heartfelt well-wishes after her near assassination. Or both, given how two-faced the nobility could be.As a mere Hauptmann, my message was almost certainly stuck in the queue. Katrina’s letter could resolve it, but I was too reluctant to actually use it right now.What I really needed right now was that classic Lyran corruption – a good friend that I could beg a favor from, to get us in.
“Freddy,” I said out loud, my eyes widening.
“What?” George said, glancing at me for a moment, before he followed my own gaze, and spotted the staff car coming down the road.
I opened the door of the car quickly, and stepped out, George quick on my heels as I strode out into the largely empty road and near the approaching staff car, which had the markings of the 10th Lyran Guards.
To be honest, it was a pure guess that said car would contain Frederick Steiner, but luck was on my side that day, and the rear passenger window rolled down as we approached.
“Cain,” said the General, nodding to me as his car came to a stop. “What are you doing here?”“Trying to get in,” I said, shrugging helplessly. “I need to talk to the Archduchess, but she’s barricaded herself in rather thoroughly. What about you?”
“I’m on my way to meet her,” Frederick said, scowling a little. “She didn’t give a reason, just summoned me like a dog.”
A rather unfavorable viewpoint, but not one that I was surprised to hear from Frederick. The man was almost compulsively incapable of hiding his emotions. However, he’d somewhat taken a shine to me after I’d arranged for him to get the salvage from that training exercise gone wrong, and if I was lucky, I could lean on that.
“Why, what are you here for?” Frederick asked, raising an eyebrow. “Changed your mind about running Aten’s little investigation?”
The man sneered at the words, and I had a hard time restraining my instinctive desire to grimace.
“Yes, exactly,” I said, nodding. “I’ll admit, I was a bit too hasty in turning her down.”
Frederick’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at me with suspicion. I already knew why – the man was positively biased towards Free Skye, and announcing that I was going to be investigating them was hardly going to endear me to the man. Thus, I needed a reason to keep him pre-disposed to actually liking me.
“You remember what she said yesterday, of course,” I continued, bending over and leaning on the staff car as I lowered my head. It wouldn’t actually do anything to stop eavesdropping, but it would make Freddy think that I was entrusting him with a secret. “I realized this morning that if I hadn’t been there to talk her out of it, she would done those things today. So perhaps it’s best if I stay a little closer to the Archduchess.”
“Just to advise her away from any unwise actions,” Frederick said, a nasty gleam entering his eye.
“Exactly,” I said, nodding.
“Then I’ll get you in,” Freddy announced. “Get in, both of you.”
I stepped back long enough for him to open the door, and both George and I quickly piled into Frederick’s staff car. The door guards didn’t seem too enthused about it from where they were watching, but unlike me, Frederick actually had an appointment, so they let us through.
After a short drive through the still-scenic palace gardens, the staff car pulled into a secured parking garage, rather than the public portico. Frederick went off for his own meeting, while George and I remained behind. Alas, the Archducal Guard put their foot down and insisted in no uncertain terms that while I could meet with Margaret Aten, it would only be on her say-so.
It took about an hour of waiting before that say-so came, and when it did, George was forced to stay behind. Fair enough, the Archducal Guard had reason to be paranoid about people that they hadn’t previously interacted with.
I didn’t see Frederick as I entered the same parlor that I’d been in yesterday, which was probably a good thing.
The room felt different now, devoid of the crowd of noblemen, LCAF officers, and civic officials. It felt emptier, and not just physically. Margaret Aten was standing near the back of the room, by the tall windows, and she was dressed in casual clothing – a blouse and trousers – rather than the expensive silk dresses I’d seen her wearing before. Even now, two personal guardsmen were inside the room, one at the door and the other only a handful of paces from Aten.“Your Grace,” I said, bowing at the waist as I entered the room. She raised a hand, beckoning me closer without turning around or saying a word. I joined her at the window, and looked out. It was set before a large grassy field that looked like it been set up for a rugby match, though none was happening. “Changed your mind, Hauptmann?” she asked after a minute, surprising me.“Yes,” I admitted, seeing no point in lying about it. “How did you know?”“General Steiner,” she said. “He seemed to think it was a good thing. That I needed… managing.”
Wonderful, I thought to myself, barely restraining the urge to groan.
Margaret Aten turned her head, and looked me dead in the eye. She had displayed a truly impressive ability to read me, and this close, I wasn’t sure I could successfully lie to her… and even if I could, the consequences would be dire.
“You do,” I admitted, before quickly continuing so that she didn’t think that I was her enemy, “But that is not a flaw. None of us are perfect. I just had a reminder of that a few hours ago, when I was rather forcefully reminded by my own manager.”
“Annoyed your superiors, did you?” Aten asked, with a humorless smile. “Or was it just the people who think they’re your superiors?”
God-Emperor, if that wasn’t a loaded question… I swallowed, and I saw her eyes narrow as she spotted the small movement in my throat. Wonderful.
“The former,” I said. “I’ve just come from the ComStar compound, where I had a conversation with our Archon. She was not pleased with me, or my actions yesterday.”
Aten frowned, and her forehead scrunched up.
“I apologize for declining the position you offered me,” I said, choosing my words with exquisite care. I couldn’t admit that I’d lied to her, not even slightly. This woman was too sharp, she’d spot it immediately. I had to thread the needle very, very carefully. “As well, I apologize for not informing you firstly, before General Steiner could. I’ve been ordered by Archon Steiner to take command of the investigation. Katrina reminded me that I serve the Commonwealth, even if I would sometimes rather… not.”
“Not?” the Archduchess repeatedly, sharply.
It was an unprecedented admission. Out of everyone I’d known in my long life, some had suspected, of course, and I could think of a few that knew the truth, but I had rarely, if ever, actually admitted my own cowardice.
But Margaret Aten was an incredibly insightful woman. She had caught me in lies twice before, and therefore, I was forced to do something truly risky, something that was ill-advised and possibly downright suicidal: I was going to lie with the truth.“Yes,” I said, nodding solemnly. “One of my largest flaws is my own reluctance. I want nothing more than to avoid situations that I am ill-prepared for. I don’t like to talk about it, for obvious reasons. I prefer the relatively simplicity of a life without those things. In this situation, I would greatly prefer that this issue was handled by a specialist, who knew exactly how to handle it, so that I wouldn’t mess it up.”
“If you can find one of those, make sure to tell me,” the Archduchess muttered darkly.
“Precisely,” I said, nodding. “I’m not trained for this kind of thing. But as I told you in that meeting, I do have some… experience.”
I pursed my lips, thinking of all the horrible jobs that I’d been volunteered for, all the hellholes I’d dove headfirst into, not realizing until it was too late that I had accidentally picked the harder task.
Aten noticed my expression, which was good, because that’s what I wanted her to do.
The lie I was crafting was very small. I was telling the complete truth about my own flaw of reluctance, my hesitation, my preference for a simple life. How I wasn’t trained for intelligence operations, despite having some experience.
All of that was the truth, but it simply wasn’t the whole truth.
I hadn’t mentioned that I was a coward who wished to never be shot at, or that I defined those ill-prepared situations as any situation where I was being shot at.
Instead, I was implying that I was a bluff, simple soldier who preferred to have a straight up fight with the enemy, rather than this cloak and dagger bollocks. A very thin distinction, but a crucial one. My reputation could not survive Aten realizing that I was a coward, but at the same time, I myself would not survive Katrina Steiner’s displeasure.
“My reason for declining yesterday is a valid one,” I said, because I couldn’t admit that I’d been lying back then. “I believe that Free Skye is already keeping me under surveillance, as well as having penetrated the security of the LCAF garrison bases. However, Katrina will not accept failure. So I’ve come up with a solution to that particular problem.”
“And what is that?” Aten asked, turning entirely away from the window to face me head on.
“If the terrorists have penetrated the base, then I won’t be on the base,” I said, before seemingly pivoting the conversation to a new topic: “How would you like to have direct supervision of the entire investigation? Accessible at the drop of a hat, with minimal disruption to your time.”
“I hope you’re not about to suggest that we have regular calls,” Aten said, narrowing her eyes and missing my point completely. “I don’t trust the security of our communications.”
“It won’t take anything but a minute of walking,” I said, with a very small and warm smile. “Why don’t we set up the headquarters for the investigation here in the palace? Inside your excellent security perimeter, where Free Skye has no ability to surveil us? Let’s be honest, if they had access, then they would have used it during the assassination attempt.”
Aten’s eyebrows rose, and she appeared taken aback by the suggestion. It was a clear sign of her youth, as despite her talent with reading people, she clearly wasn’t as good with hiding her own emotional reactions.
“I think…” she started to say, before stopping herself. “Continue, please.”
That’s a bite, I thought to myself. Now to just reel her in.
“Obviously, my team won’t have full access to the entire palace,” I said, waving a hand towards the window, and the numerous smaller buildings that made up the entire Archducal compound. “You could stuff us in a dusty old wing of guest rooms. Full security separation between us and your own protection. This is about far more than Free Skye spying on me in particular, Your Grace. We need to minimize the chance of any leaks, by any methods, no matter what. My team would live here in the palace, full time, until the job is done.”
The twenty year old Archduchess hesitated. She was thinking it over. I stopped talking and made myself as small as possible, so that she would be focused on her own thoughts, and not on me.
“Yes,” she said after a few minutes. “And I know exactly where I’ll put you. Andre’s office.”
I didn’t understand for a moment. Would I be displacing someone? The name was familiar, but not by much. It came to me after a second: Aten had shouted the name during the assassination attempt, after one of her bodyguards had died.
She wanted me to set up my investigation in the room that had once belonged to her dead guardsman. Was it sentimentality from her, or a desire to give me ample motivation? Perhaps both.
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll do my utmost to bring his killers to justice.”
Aten smiled at me, and I very carefully did not think about the fact that I was primarily going to do that because if I didn’t, either Free Skye would kill me, or Katrina would make me wish they had.