Nova Cassidy's Chronicles: Judges, Pt 2
02 Mar 2016Nova Cassidy
I had it all planned out. Mostly.I knew what I was going to do, and how I was going to do it. If I was going to assassinate a member of the Imperial Inquisition then my usual approach of shooting the ship when I see it wasn't going to work. For all I knew, he never left the station. The most important thing I had to figure out was this: How do I get into his office? The plan took almost a week to put together. A week and a lot of credits, with a good amount of risks stacked on top of that.
In retrospect, the plan could have been better. In my defence, I'm a bounty hunter. I'm used to quick and immediate results from my actions with only a little planning beforehand. Intense dogfights, high speed chases, an explosion or two and quick notifications of how much money is waiting for me back at the station. I'm not a strategist, and I was out of my element. It would have been better if I had some help, but I didn't have the contacts to help me out with this. Even if I did, I probably wouldn't have told them. It would be better if no one knew, because after all this was done, it would be me with the bounty on my head. That's justice, I suppose.
Gideon had lied about the Lysenko executives masking their identities a year ago, but I discovered that scrambling the ID registration on your ship wasn't impossible. It was however illegal and expensive. To get it done from some shady looking guy (Ferret, he said his name was) on the black market in an anarchy system was a risk in and of itself. To do it in any official capacity would be very well documented, easily traceable, and would come with a lot of paperwork that gives authorities a list of all known aliases and ships I've flown with. I went through with it, though. It cost me a lot of credits, and after buying the Python as well as everything else I needed, I was pretty much broke again.
I was caught off guard when the hacker, Ferret asked me what I wanted the ship's new name to be. It crossed my mind to call it The Judge, but I thought that was too heavy handed. He nearly laughed at me when I murmured out the name 'Scuttlebug' It sounded pretty innocent, I thought. Maybe that was a good thing though, no one expects a would-be assassin to call their ship something as silly as that. I looked over at the ship, being sprayed with a new coat of black paint, covering up my rank emblems, mentally apologizing to what I was doing to the old girl. The process too only a few hours, and when it was done, it looked nothing like the old Bluebird. Even on the inside it didn't look anything like it did a year ago now I'd moved everything out of it. On a scan, it was a humble Asp Explorer called the Scuttlebug, her pilot a Ms. Jaylin Sharwit.
Kamadhenu was over 150 light years away from me, so I had plenty of time to think of some last minute details. I went over the plan in my head again and again, thinking of what I would do for as many cases of things going wrong as I could think of - which there were a lot of. I wasn't doubting myself anymore as to whether or not it was the right thing to do however. I had a week to back down since I first decided to do it, and at this point I was committed. My credit balance was especially committed. I'd never over thought shooting down murderers before, and this time was no different, even if it was going to take longer this time. Doing it face to face still got to me, too.
After reaching Kamadhenu, I arrived at Shajin Market not long after that. Thankfully, it was pretty close to the system's star, so at least there wasn't another Hutton run to look forward to. I dropped in at the station, nervously flying into the 7.5 km range needed to request docking. I took a deep breath as I tapped the request button, praying that my fake identity wouldn't be discovered on the first scan by a real authority. There was a pause. The authorization seemed to take longer than it should have to come through. My hands tightened around the controls, waiting to be lit up red any second… but just as my breath ran out, "Docking request granted." came through my computer.
Thank god.
No one knew who I was, or why I was there. But knowing my own intentions, I didn't feel safe at any point. There were probably a dozen cameras on my ship at any one time, and I'd seen ships get blown up inside a station enough times to know how it could have gone. Even once I had successfully landed, I still didn't feel safe, but I probably wouldn't be feeling safe for quite a while from this point, so I just had to deal with it. Once everything was in order, I had to get changed first. There wasn't much point getting all dolled up, I didn't intend to be here long anyway. I put on my regular clothes and my leather jacket over those.
Before I left the ship, I took special care to make sure what I had hidden up my sleeve and strapped to my arm was still in order. It hadn't been easy but I had procured a tiny and easily concealable pistol in my sleeve, attached to a mechanism that would extend out with the right flex of my wrist. These things were almost antiques in their design, they were usually regarded more as a novelty than anything else. It would work though, that's the point. A tiny, easily concealable low caliber pistol that could only hold two shots at a time, similar to a derringer from old Earth history. It didn't make very much noise, either. Not silent, but no deafening boom. It wasn't sticking out, the mechanism still worked.
Okay. So far, so good.
A million things could have gone wrong at this point, but I'd come too far to turn away now, and I'd never forgive myself if I did. But you can't make a career as a reaper by being a coward. I guess under the pretty face and blue hair I'm a pretty vindictive person. If I feel like I've been wronged, I'd always hold a grudge. This still felt right to me, but whether it really was just justice for those who were lost, or revenge on my sake you can decide for yourself. But as I left the ship, I steeled myself with determination.
I remembered the way from last time. Last time the circumstances were very different though, clinging to Matt's arm like a kid scared of getting separated from their mum, as if I was about to be abducted by the Inquisition myself, we came with the intention of saving millions. This time I was alone, with the intention of killing one.
Getting access to Gideon's office was far easier than I'd expected. I know that Gideon isn't exactly the emperor herself, but was it really this simple?
I arrived at the Chapterhouse’s main entryway without incident. I could almost remember the route Matt and I took last time we were here. Not perfectly though, it had been more than a year and the Empire loves to have everything looking shiny and uniform to the point every hallway looks the same. Thankfully, the place was remarkably well labelled, and directions were easy to find. I stuck out more and more the further inside I got. People in casual and working clothes being replaced by expensive over-designed suits and uniforms. I got a few looks on the way because of my own casual outfit, which wasn't what I wanted, but for the most part it suited the role I was trying to play.
I introduced myself as an informant with urgent news for Gideon only, I said it was an emergency, bullshitting my way through it and name dropping Commander M. Lehman just in case. I probably wasn't wearing the best poker face, but perhaps the nervous expression and lack of fancy clothing worked to my advantage in making it seem an emergency. I was in a hurry and didn't have time to dress up. I didn't have too long to wait, and I was escorted to his office with very little security. Just one single person to show me where Gideon's office was before he left. After all, only a complete idiot would try something funny against the Imperial Inquisition in the heart of the Empire, alone and on foot. I'd been dealt a pretty good hand so far it seemed. Whether I could play those cards just as well was another matter.
I took a moment to adjust my weapon of choice. It wasn't my first choice, admittedly. I had hoped to get ahold of some poison I could drop in his drink. The plan there was I'd throw a tantrum and let it roll out of my sleeve into his drink before I get thrown out. Of course, by then, I'd have already done what I went there to do. But that plan came with it's own set of problems. The pros were I could leave easier since he wouldn't just die immediately, I'd just be thrown off the station and leave before anything catches up to me. The cons were that I'd be just as likely to be thrown in a holding cell as I was off the station, and what if he didn't have a drink to put the poison in? What if it didn't even work? At least with a gun I had more control, but the escape… well, I'll burn that bridge after I cross it.
Opening the door and stepping inside, my face twisted into a scowl at the sight of the man's face, and I marched up to his desk, but he kept his head in his work for the first few moments. I could see cameras in the corner of the room, too. Not… the best, but those were expected. I never actually intended to walk in and assassinate him and never actually get caught though - that was ridiculous. I could only hope by the time I was caught it was after I had left.
"Take a seat." he said, before looking up at me. "Wait, do I know… You? What are you doing here?" he asked.
Apparently, he recognized me. I don't know if he ever had my name to begin with, but I was most definitely not Jaylin Sharwit, an informant, or there for what he'd been told I was there for. The blue hair must have been ringing a bell. Though the lies I had told in order to get in that room must have raised the suspicion pretty quickly. I could only pray he didn't have a silent alarm. Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut. Should've gotten on with it, do what I came to do and leave just as quickly.
“It’s been a awhile, Gideon.”
He looked at me, not quite remembering. “Indeed it has. And how is our mutual friend?”
Either he’s bored and wasting time with pleasantries, or he’s trying to remember who I am.
I shrugged. “No idea how Matt is. Only did the one job together.” I allowed a mocking gleam to cross eyes. “You know how it is with us indy pilots.”
For a moment, Gideon and I stared at each other, not quite knowing what to say.
Time’s wasting. Cut to the damn chase.
"They were innocent people, Gideon." I told him. I wanted to just start screaming and yelling at him for what he'd done - what he'd made me do. But instead just came out cold. As I expected, Gideon didn’t react immediately, didn’t panic, didn’t become upset. Instead, he tilted his head at a slight angle, nodding almost imperceptibly.
"There are always innocents. It was necessary to complete the mission." Gideon paused for a moment as he quickly recounted his involvement with what I was talking about, events over a year in the past now.
"I don't murder innocents!" I exclaimed, barely holding myself back.
"But I do," he replied, with just a trace of- sadness?
But that's just the problem, isn't it?
Gideon’s looked up, suddenly understanding. “He tried to keep it from you, didn’t he?”
I raised an arm, pointing both an accusing finger and my concealed weapon at his chest.
“Because of you.”
Gideon slowly shook his head, real sadness in his eyes. “No. Because of you.”
I know. But that won’t save you.
I had my arm raised to point accusingly at him, as though I was going to verbally pass the kind of vigilante judgement on him that certain reapers were known for. But like a true reaper, I didn't say a word. The weapon I had concealed in my sleeve extended out from my wrist and into my hand. And, like a true reaper, I pulled the trigger.
Bang.
…
Bang.
At first, I wondered if I missed, and Gideon’s jerks at the gunshots were just startled reactions. Then, he doubled over in his chair, one hand over his chest, the other gripping his neck. Through his fingers, I saw blood start to run down his neck, and the telltale red blotch begin to stain the clean grey uniform worn by every Imperial in the place.
He looked up at me, trembling, hatred and surprise in his eyes. His lips twisted into a snarl, moving before he spoke. More like sputtered.
“Bitch!”
I lowered my arm, retracting the spent weapon. So, even Gideon can lose his cool when push comes to shove.
The Inquisitor might have wanted to say or do more, but he again doubled over, violently coughing blood. He collapsed backwards into his chair, his entire neck and mouth now covered in blood. His eyes were still full of hatred, but they were beginning to fade even as his words came out in liquidy gurgles.
Gideon made one last effort to rise from his chair, but couldn’t.
Well, what are you waiting for, a death certificate?
I turned around and swiftly exited the office, making sure to hit the sliding door controls behind me. Looking around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Well-dressed Imperials were going about their business up and down the walkways, no heavy stomping noises of a security team-
Hell, not even an out-of-place ripple on the goddamn indoor stream.
Taking a deep breath, I started walking towards the entrance. Inside my chest, my heart was pounding so hard I could damn near hear it.
Just make it to the lift.
Nobody even noticed. Why did nobody notice? Was the office soundproofed?
Thankfully, no one joined me in the lift, giving me a welcome thirty seconds of solitude. I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off of my face, re-composing myself for the final, casual stroll out of the Chapterhouse foyer. The door opened, and again- it was all business as usual. I walked deliberately forward, eyes ahead, stride purposeful.
Imperials respect that shit, right?
There it was. The main entryway, almost close enough for me to just open. Then, it would close, I’d take the nearest turbolift to the hangar level, hop in my ship, and-
“Madam, halt!”
Fuck.
Scowling in fear and frustration, I slowly turned around. A security guard had followed me, a stern look on his face.
“Jaylin Sharwit?”
I took as deep a breath as dignity allowed and looked him straight in the eye. “Maybe. Who wants to know?”
The guard’s expression softened- and he held out his hand, palm up.
“Terribly sorry to bother you ma’am, but if you’re leaving, you’ll have to give back your security pass.”