Logbook entry

The Reaper Diaries #12: Redemption, Part 3.

They say that there are two great curses in life:

1) Not getting what you want.

And 2) getting it.

I had begun my life as an independent pilot to forge my own destiny, without answering to anyone, and to finally indulge the loner aspect of my personality that had been present since childhood.

Well, for being such a loner, I was hurting for company pretty bad.



First, there was the damn fool quest that I had undertaken to find a kidnapped, orphaned little girl from Durius. Then, there was my partner/ consultant Kyndi abandoning me in my sleep before we had even set out.

Being ditched had been painful, but was probably for the best, at least for Kyndi. Something about the job hadn’t been sitting right with her, and her distress had only worsened since New Township. What it was, I didn’t know. Something from her past, perhaps? Kyndi had never spoken to me about her childhood- only tales of illegal scores from the time she was a teenager. Never once had she spoken of a home, or family, or plans for the future other than her next illicit smuggling job. In truth, I didn’t know jack shit about the woman who had been the closest thing I had to a friend out in the ‘verse.

Settling back into the Hand of Blue after a week of staying at Pimi, I let my hand brush the systems deck chair that she had so recently occupied. Of course, she hadn’t known much about me, either- the revelation that I was working for the inquisition had left her quite taken aback. Had I ever told her about my past? No… I hadn’t, come to think of it. That was likely for the best, as well. Compared to hers, it was probably a children’s tale.

Kyndi had flying her own ship since the age of sixteen, after winning it in a gambling match against a perverted, desperate old merchant who had bet his ship (and the cargo it contained) against her body (the only thing she had left to wager). Kyndi won the hand, and after cajoling the old merchant to make good on his end of the deal (with the help of several other pilots who had witnessed the game) gave half the cargo on the spot to pay another pilot to teach her the basics of flying. The other half was sold as seed money to start what was- at first- a legitimate career as a trader. Like me, chance led to her first big score by selling illegal goods. Unlike me, however, the prospect of returning to legal hauling just wasn’t appealing after being bit by the smuggling bug. The rest, as she had told me in-between hits of Onionhead, was history.

But before that? Not a word.

As I buckled myself into the pilot’s chair and started warming up the Hand of Blue, I found myself missing Kyndi something fierce. Not her expertise, not her perfect backside, but her.  



Well, ain’t that a first.

Goddamnit, Matt. Not now.

I would have all the time in the ‘verse to mope over Kyndi once I set course. Right now, I needed to figure out a plan. One of the only things we had agreed on back on Pimi was to access the incident report of the Kumo crew’s raid on New Township. Plan A had been for me to sit back and have a cup of coffee as Kyndi hacked into Authority’s database on Durius City. Now that she was out of the picture, I would have to get my hands on that report via other means. I didn’t expect to learn much about the raid itself, but if authority was following procedure, they would have done their best to identify any known Kumo personnel and ships that might have been used. If I could figure out who had been running the show during that raid, I (and Kyndi at the time) would have had a starting point in terms of who to go after.

Since Kyndi was unavailable, I would have to get my hands on that report the old fashioned way: by asking for it.

I had really been hoping to not have to do it this way. It wasn’t just that I didn’t like authority- it was that legally, they didn’t have to show a private citizen anything. Only I wasn’t just some random Joe who stumbled through the front door. I was an inquisitor. A grade one, probationary, new-jack hireling of an inquisitor, but one nevertheless. If I flashed my ID and conducted myself with enough arrogance, I might have a chance of intimidating someone with high enough security clearance to get a copy of that report.

Or I might be told to piss off by a lowly desk clerk.

My options if told “no” were equal parts limited and awkward. Technically, an inquisitor could investigate nearly anywhere in the Empire… provided that he or she was on official assignment from the Chapterhouse. If I was, I could simply report local non-compliant authorities, and, well- have you ever seen the way that Arissa deals with “corruption”?            

But since I wasn’t, I would have a hell of a time explaining to Gideon why one of his newest agents was conducting his own investigation, in a far-away system, on a planet controlled by one of Arissa’s chief rivals in the senate. While on vacation, no less. I would have to hope that whoever was working on Durius Prime had been raised on some serious bedtime tales about how scary inquisitors are. Otherwise, this was going to blow up in my face.

I flew to the capital, my nav using a regulated approach instead of eyeballing it like I had with New Township. Durius City was the hub of the entire system, sprawled over the area where the largest concentration of terraformer towers had been erected. Though nothing compared to the core worlds, it was still a pretty good-size city, Durius's lone promise of the prosperity and modern living that allegiance to the Empire promised.



I flew towards the planetary council chambers (though the nav was listing it as the viceroy’s tower. Arrogant bastard, this Fink) and input my inquisitior’s ID for landing clearance. This would be the first of my gambles. If the system let me land at one of the private docking pads near the tower, it would be a hell of a lot easier to establish myself as a VIP than someone who used the public starport and had to take a bus.    

<information received>

<Permission to land at landing pad 4 is granted. Have a pleasant day, Commander>

Well hell.

I flew over to the four leaf clover-shaped landing area, where I would be setting down next to what was no doubt the viceroy’s private Clipper, flanked by two Eagle escorts on the other pads. It was connected to the viceroy’s tower by a long, gardened, cobblestone pathway.

Ok, now what?

I looked down. This flight suit just wouldn’t do. Not for intimidating system authorities.

I went back to the Hand of Blue’s pilot cabin to find something appropriate to wear. I settled on a simple grey sweater, with black slacks and dress shoes. Let’s hope this is in the fall line of inquisitorwear, I thought. I needed a shave, but, looking out of the canopy, there was already an honor guard of Imperial marines beginning to assemble outside my ship.

Well, here we go.

Remember: you’re a Goddamn inquisitor, not some low-life bounty hunter. These people answer to you!!!

And for God’s sake, talk pretty.

I deboarded the Hand of Blue and strode my way towards the well-dressed man waiting at the end of the honor guard. He bowed formally, in the Imperial style. Not knowing entirely what to do, I bowed as well, but only slightly less deeply.

He stood up again, and smiled formally.

“Welcome to Durius, my lord. I am Archibald Montaigne, Viceroy Fink’s secretary of internal affairs. I regret to say that the viceroy himself is indisposed at the moment. How may this humble servant accommodate the inquisition? Our facilities are at your disposal.”

So far, so good.

“Secretary Montaigne, thank you for your reception. I am here at Arissa Lavignly-Duval’s behest. Shall we walk awhile?”

I beckoned, and the secretary and I began to stroll towards the entrance of the viceroy’s tower. Montaigne didn’t say anything, and only the sound of our heels clicking on the cobblestones filled the air. I guess I was going first.

Let the bullshit commence.

“As you are no doubt aware, this planet’s patron has embroiled himself into something of a conflict with the Pegasi pirates, this so-called Kumo Crew. Gang of thieves and murderers though they are, my lady Lavignly-Duval has expressed concern that they have been able to penetrate so deeply into Imperial space.  It seems that no target is too small for these bandits. I had heard that even your humble system had seen its skies darkened by their ships. Is this correct?”

I peered over to Montaigne. His face remained fixed, eyes cast slightly downward. He waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal.

“The Kumos have visited several imperial worlds, it is true. Fortunately, they rarely do lasting damage, only absconding with what they could before reinforcements can arrive. Such was the case here. Had they come in force, sector fleet would have destroyed them within the hour. The welfare of the people of Durius is our viceroy’s only concern.”

I nodded, and turned to him again. Two marines opened the double-doored entrance for us, as we walked into a grand reception parlor.

“I am most gratified to hear so. Still, the question remains: though Senator Patreus has the publicly stated support of my lady, the exact level of her commitment will depend greatly on how this operation is conducted. That is why I am here.”

I turned to Montaigne, and tried my best ominous smile.

“If your viceroy’s patron is to have any support from my lady more substantial than words, then we must have our assurances that she is backing the winning side of this conflict. I shall require access to certain of this system’s records. Specifically, the incident reports concerning the recent attacks-”

Montaigne bowed slightly in a gesture of acquiescence-

“- as well as the personal records of every man, woman, and child who have lived in this system for the past five years.”

Archibald looked up suddenly. He was trembling slightly, and opened his mouth once before finally finding the words-

“Inquisitor, the incident reports are yours, of course- but I’m afraid that exact records of every citizen on Durius will be quite difficult to produce. There has been significant refugee movement to and from the system, and the provinces are still backlogged with the-“

I waved my hand in a gesture of dismissal.

“Silence! Do you mean to say the records are unavailable?”

He gulped, and continued- “No, my lord. It’s just that there are many who have moved off-world, and they aren’t always properly documented to have done so, and- if I may ask- what good would such information do against the pirates?”

I tried to stare a hole into the man’s very being.

“No, secretary, you may not ask. It is inquisition business. Now, if would be so kind as to fetch whatever records are available, I may yet have something good to say about this filthy hovel of a system!”

The man wilted before my eyes, physically taking a step back. He looked around, and bowed again.

“My apologies, lord, but I do not have access to the personnel records. They have been marked as being only for the viceroy and his provincial magistrates. Please forgive me.”

I gave the man by best sneer.

“I shall accept your apology the moment you produce the viceroy himself. The inquisition shall not be dismissed so cavalierly! Now go, ‘Secretary of internal affairs’, and fetch your master!”

From behind me, I heard an older man’s voice:

“That won’t be necessary, inquisitor.”

I spun, and a short distance away from me was an older man, in formal, dark violet robes. He was flanked by two imperial marines. He wore a haughty expression, and carried himself with the pretentious airs that one would expect from a man who ruled a sand-castle and thought it a palace.

Archibald ran up, fell to a knee, and kissed the man’s hand.



“My lord!... the inquisition is requesting-“

The man jerked his hand away and looked contemptuously at Montaigne.

“-the personnel records, yes. I’ve listened to your incompetence since the inquisitor landed. Leave us.”

Archibald Montaigne hurriedly stood up, bowed, and swiftly walked away.

The pompous, robed man watched him leave for a moment, and finally turned to me. He, too, bowed, but less formally than his secretary had.

“Inquisitor. I am Albert Fink, viceroy of Durius. Shall we retire to my private chambers.”

I bowed briefly, and followed the man into a nearby turbolift. He dismissed his guards with a motion of his fingers, and beckoned me into the elevator.

Neither of us said a word the entire trip up. The lift doors opened, and what had been the council chambers had been remodeled into a private luxury suite. Viceroy Fink had spared no expense. Everywhere around was opulence. Marble pillars, fauna by a waterfall, enormous pillowed lounges- all leading to a grand balcony with sculpted stone railings.

A man might really believe that he was a king, living like this.  

Fink led me to the balcony, overlooking Durius City. He gripped the railing and gazed out across the cityscape.



“The only patch of Durius worth looking at. It won’t always be like this, of course. One day, this place will be turned into a proper Imperial world, with a decent orbital station, bustling metropoli dotting the surface, and an economy worth fighting for. I won’t live to see that day. Neither will anyone down below us. But it will come, as surely and inevitably as the Empire itself will claim dominion over all of humankind. But first, we all have a part to play. Mine is to use my time here to set Durius upon its proper course in the name of my patron. Yours seems to be fetching bureaucratic reports for a senator who is above ever reading them.”

Fink clapped his hands twice, and from behind a corner, a red-haired young woman wearing the simple tunic of an Imperial slave appeared with two glasses of wine. We each took one. The young lady stepped away, bowing her head and awaiting the viceroy's further instructions.



Fink let his gaze linger upon his slave, and continued-

“Do you know what it is to wield power? As an inquisitor, I’m certain that you’ve tasted your share.”

He took a sip of his wine.

“-though I would suspect that you haven’t drank as deeply as others among your order. Tell me, what sort of ship is that? I’ve not seen it before, and I’ve been around long enough to have seen all kinds.”

I stepped up to the balcony and toasted the Hand of Blue.

“That’s the Vulture class. Federation ship, brand-new design. Handles like a dream-“

Fink interrupted-

“-and I imagine kills like one, as well. But you never answered my question: what is it to wield power? Do you consider that flying a ship like that empowers you above your fellow man? Or is it something else?”

I took a sip of my wine. “That vessel has empowered me to serve the Emperor’s justice against several who deserved it. Do you always invite your guests up here for wine and long-winded conversation?”

Fink smirked, and walked over to the young woman, still standing with her head bowed.. He stood behind her and placed his hand upon her shoulder.

“This one’s name is Fiona. She isn’t from here, as you might have guessed. As a matter of fact, she’s from closer to the imperial core than I am. Attended university for nearly eight years when one of her parents fell ill. Fiona, gentle heart that she is, left university to care for her ailing family member. Pity, really- she was so close to graduating with a degree in sector law.”

His hand snaked around to her front, and he began to stroke her belly through the slit in the front of her tunic. Fiona just stood in place, staring down at the floor, jaw clenched- but otherwise expressionless.

“In time, her mother recovered, but the damage to her academic career had been done. She isn’t from a particularly well-off family, and law school is extremely expensive. The terms of both her scholarships and loans had been breached. Rather than negotiate a costly and humiliating repayment plan, she elected to see a magistrate and enter a voluntary term of slavery to satisfy the debt in two years instead of twenty.”

His hand moved upwards under her tunic and cupped a breast. Squeezing softly, Fink said

“-and what a beneficial term it has been for us both! She will be leaving my employ in only a few months, debt erased and honor cleansed. Until then, she must do everything that she is commanded.”  

He released her, and walked up to me.

“-and in the interim, has learned a more valuable lesson about power than any of her fine university courses. To wield power is to command the will of others. To bend them to your will, and to punish them when they err.”

He leaned against the balcony and sipped his wine.

“… which is why I sleep in the tallest penthouse of a system capital, while you sleep in the bunk of a starship, inquisitor. You apply this principle, one miscreant at a time- though you likely do not see it. I have been entrusted with the proper guidance of an entire system because I can grasp the greater scheme of things.”

Fink looked me coldly in the eyes.

“The records of those who live here are none of the inquisition’s concern. Your presence might cow a lowly functionary, but they will not move me. What happened on this world is the business of myself and Senator Patreus, not the lackey of an illegitimate pretender to the throne.”

Shit.

Time to play some hardball.

I took a sip of wine.

“Speaking of business, how is it? It must be terribly taxing for the senator to persist in his little pirate war, even with fleets the size of the ones he commands. In fact, there have been whispers as to how exactly he’s been keeping his munitions factories running constantly. Even with modern automation, it simply can’t be enough. Labor intensive work, mining and manufacturing.”

Gesturing across the cityscape, I continued-

“In fact, it’s been a marvel that Denton has been able to inspire so many of his own constituents to volunteer for service in his mines and factories… and from systems so recently added! One would think that with almost no taxation, the enslavement rate would be well below normal- but this isn’t the case, isn’t it? Not in Denton’s systems.  Why, the highest rates are from little shithole worlds just like this one.”

I smiled and took another sip, and stared into Fink’s fuming face-

“Seems unlikely, doesn’t it? That a system would find itself so enamored with the man who had just taken everything from them that they would so generously volunteer themselves in such large numbers to satisfy a public debt?”

Fink tried to say something, but I interrupted:

“… and now, an inquisitor is being told by a pompous little windbag the that circumstances of this mass-enslavement are none of anyone else’s business? My, my, viceroy. This certainly isn’t going to help your patron’s standing in the eyes of my lady- or the rest of the senate, for that matter. The practice of honorable slavery is a core part of Imperial culture, and the senate won’t have anything to do with a man who so willingly corrupts it. Or is Denton taking his cues from Zemina Torval these days?”

Livid, Fink walked up to a terminal, inserted a data disk, and began typing. After a moment, he pulled out the disk, strode up to me and shoved it into my hands. His face red and shaking, he said

“Out! I will not be addressed this manner, in my own residence, by some lowly minion of Arissa’s!  Leave this place before I order you into the mines and melt your ship into slag! Out!”

I smiled and leaned in close.

“It will reflect very poorly on my report that Denton’s viceroy threatened an inquisitor… but if this information has what I’m looking for, I might be persuaded to leave that part out. ”

Instead of bowing to him, I walked up to Fiona, still expressionless, eyes still averted downward. I, an inquistor, bowed low before her, a slave. Looking at her astonished eyes, I said:

“My lady Arissa Lavignly-Duval works to end the dishonor and corruption that innocents like yourself have borne. It will not be long before men like the viceroy have no one to protect them.”

With that, I walked out, hearing Fink sputter and protest until the lift doors slammed shut.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Well, that went alright, didn't it?

I was just lifting off, data disk in my flight suit pocket. Looking up, I could see the figure of Albert Fink, still on his balcony, watching me leave. Nobody  expects the Imperial inquisition, asshole.

I hadn’t yet loaded the contents of the data disk into the ship’s computer, but I had a good feeling about what I might find. First, I wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. I had a feeling that my Durius privileges had been lost for a long, long time.

Next, I needed a safe place for me to hunker down and go over the data that I had been given. In fact, I needed to get away from any system that Denton Patreus had in his pocket. It didn’t seem likely that he would cross Arissa by going after an inquisitor, but I just couldn’t be sure.

That meant leaving not only Denton’s space, but Imperial space, too. It was just as well, since I had been anticipating that my little quest would take me far away anyway. Of course, travelling would be a bit tricky. It’s not like I could just show up in Pegasi with my real ship and ID signal. I’m good, but I’m not so good that I couldn’t be taken down in a hurry by a squadron of Kumo enforcers.

The next phase of this operation was going to be interesting, since I had to move on from good, honest lying to lying with a side of identity fraud. Hacking and overwriting a Pilot’s Fed license was tricky business. It could be done, but was highly illegal, since they were recognized forms of identification in all of civilized space. If Kyndi hadn’t bugged out, it would be a snap. Since she did, I would have to take stock of the small collection of nefarious contacts I had built up over the years.

Who could I trust?

Where could I safely store the Hand of Blue?

Most importantly, who even knew how to override a Pilot’s Fed ID?    

After thinking it over between sips of Old Sol, I settled on where the of my piloting career had truly taken off: Ackerman Market. I had been doing smuggling jobs for the same shady group ever since I was in my Sindwinder, and had developed a pretty good relationship with Rax, the man who had held off slashing my throat to give me a chance to prove that I really did have some intel he was looking for. It had been the first illegal thing I had ever done as an independent commander.It was also the most profitable, and marked the end of my squeaky-clean data-running days.

It’s been awhile since I've done a job for him. Hopefully, he’s still on the level.

Even though I didn’t like it, I didn’t have much choice. Rax was my oldest contact, and while Ackerman was a sketchy place to leave a ship, I could definitely do worse.

Well, back to the source. Ackerman was becoming a very transitional sort of place for me, ending one phase of my life and embarking on the next. Once again, it was where I was to leave behind everything that I had grown accustomed to so that I could embrace the unknown.

The first time, it had been to save my career. This time, it was to save an orphaned little girl. At least my motivations were getting more noble, even as my methods continued their downward spiral.

<Course confirmed. Ackerman Market, Eravate System.>

It was time to get on with the damn job.