During the standoff, someone had dropped a thick metallic disk on the floor in the center of the crowd. It clicked, hissing out gasses as light streamed from its top. The image of Marco Sorrin flashed into the room as a five meter tall hologram, impossible for anyone to miss. The patch across his eye skewed his features, but the scowl was unmistakable.
“Esteemed members of the cabinet, my name is Marco Sorrin, and I am the Athalon’s Lion Guard.”
“We don't recognize your authority here, Marshal Sorrin,” Coultier said. The rage on his face twisted his words into more growl than speech.
“I would expect any criminal to say the same of any law they intended to break.”
“Excuse me, Marshal.” Agent Vayan said. “What laws have they supposedly broken?”
“Declare yourself, madam,” Sorrin said.
“I am Agent Vayan of the SDP. These people are under my protection.”
“Then you know of their plot to overturn the Athalon Concordance which would put the lives of thousands of soldiers and civilians in harm's way so they can line their pockets?”
The agent tracked her glare across the cabinet, trying to find some hint of emotion that would betray or exonerate them. The sweating, fear soaked face of the prime minister turned the flesh at the back of her neck cold. “Marshal, I am not as familiar with Athalon law, can you give me the highlights?”
“This is my wheelhouse,” Castillo interrupted. “In the first days of Elysium as a colony, the marshals settled here to build their Temple. They'd brought a sizable group of civilians to aid in the construction. As the temple became established, the civilians, under the protection of the marshals, brought their families to live with them. You see, the marshals were only concerned with Elysium as a base of operation. They wanted no part of building a government. The civilians took the cue, establishing a city-state for their growing population. The two groups struck a bargain wherein the civilians would govern themselves and the marshals would protect them. The Athalon Concordance became a collection of laws that allows the marshals to conscript military units to their causes along with giving them police powers should the government become corrupt.”
“And you feel we've reached that point?” Vayan asked.
Coultier's stress washed over him the longer Castillo spoke. He was watching his plan fall apart with each venomous word that dripped from the monk's smug lips. “Agent Vayan, Agent Halsey, these men do not have the best intentions for Soliveneaux and the people of Elysium in mind! They're stalling us. Keeping us from getting into the situation room to prevent us from making a clean break from the Athalon, who is trying to seize power from this executive body!”
Halsey looked as confused as the other agents in the room. “Mr. Prime Minister, sir, I studied law before deciding to go to the academy. The Marshals Concordance gives them discretionary powers in governmental matters across Elysium. They don't need to seize power. They already have it.”
Blowing apart the projector disk amid a shower of sparks, Sorrin's holographic image shuddered into nothingness. Rovatan redirected her aim, leveling her sight picture at the motionless monk. “Sorry, inspector, you've been outvoted.”
The first shot nearly collided center mass, swerving around him just before making contact. It struck a wall with a puff of smoke and a neatly traced burn mark in the marble. Her second shot struck his outstretched hand with the same effect, none of which seemed to bother him. He closed his fingers into a fist, the power of the Crucible surging across the space, crushing the pistol in her hand. The pulverized metal caught her fingers, crushing them as the material collapsed into a bulbous mass devoid of its previous shape. She dropped to her knees, her cries of pain devolving into whimpering as she tried her best to regain control.
“Now before we were so rudely interrupted,” Castillo continued. “I was getting to the part where I answer your question, Agent. The current prime minister and his cabinet have entered into an agreement with Triton Expeditionary, a CORAL spy agency, and Koda Corporation, one of the premier weapons manufacturers in the Alliance. Their deal would put Elysian assets and citizens in harm's way to prove military technology to potential investors, as well as oust the Athalon, replacing it with the Monastery at San Verone in a limited capacity. Just the part where they put citizens at risk for profit violates a host of laws. The plot to strip the Athalon of its judiciary powers against them while limiting the role of the Vernai puts them in position to get away with even more dubious behavior.”
“You have no proof of any of this,” Coultier said, losing some of his vigor after seeing the disappointed looks on his security detail's faces.
Cas was quick to counter. “I have the payment records from Koda, through shell companies traced back to Triton, and dispersed through the Monastery. I have travel records for Revered Sister Naema Otobo using government transport and assigned Elysian security corresponding with several illicit events across the Frontier. I have eyewitness testimony from several people taken as slaves by Kirin Pirates. Their description identifies Sister Otobo being present while they were subjected to horrific experiments involving nanotechnology. Ms. Rovaton can corroborate. She was there, too.”
“That's not true.” Rovaton cursed. Her labored breaths seething out as she fought to control the pain of the ruined metal weapon biting her flesh. “None of that will hold up in court. You have nothing but circumstantial evidence and unreliable witnesses under torture.”
“That's not accurate. I also have Agent Fontaine, who was taken prisoner along with his principal, the director of colonial affairs.”
“What!” Halsey shouted. “We had another fundraiser last month to raise money for his wife. Selena wanted to hire a bounty hunter to look for him because the marshal she'd asked for help disappeared too.”
Cas smiled. “She didn't disappear. Marshal Mara Truveau liberated him with the rest of the prisoners. When we learned their kidnapping was linked to Prime Minister Coultier's deal with Triton, we kept them isolated for fear they'd be killed to keep them from talking about what they went through. They're being held in isolation so as not to jeopardize the investigation.”
“His wife has been a wreck since he was taken!” Halsey yelled, turning his blaster on Rovaton. She cowered under the barrel, shielding her face with the club that used to be her ruined hand.
“Agent, I need you to stand down,” Cas said firmly, free of hostility.
“She told us the search was ongoing. She told our bosses at SDP that every available resource was being poured into finding him. That they'd never leave a man behind. Even if they see the inside of a courtroom, they'll just buy their way out. They'll never see justice!”
“Agent Halsey, lower your weapon,” Vayan said in a soft firm voice.
“I went through the academy with him. You didn't see the look on his wife's face when she asked me for help. We had to check on her just to make sure she was keeping it together for their kids.”
“Then don't listen to us, Agent. Listen to him.” Cas pulled his cell-com from his belt. Marco's hologram flowed into the room, much smaller than the previous projection, but the size did nothing to diminish the man's intensity.
“Agent I heard all of what you went through. So has Elysium. It was live streamed through the Hyper-Net to the planet. The only way out of this mess for them is through a courtroom.”
“It's not going to end this way,” Coultier whispered. He hip checked the agent next to him, ripping the weapon from his grip. The sling snapped, releasing the guard to smack into the floor. Coultier thumbed the selector lever to full auto, dumping the sub-machine blaster's mag into the waiting Castillo. He fell onto his back, his robes turning to smokey ash. “You listen to me, you weak little man. Get over against the wall. Vayan, we can't trust him. You're going to have to shoot him. The rest of you file into the situation room so we can get this done. With any luck, Sorrin was lying about the broadcast. Just to be sure, General Haverin, check the monk's eyes for a cyber lens.”
“On it, sir.”
Vayan stood motionless, trying to come to grips with what Coultier had just done. “Sir, I can't just shoot an agent.”
“Then, you'll join him,” the prime minister hissed. “Get over there against the wall.”
“Sir, you're in no position to give me orders with that empty blaster pointed at me.” Vayan said, holding her ground.
Coultier shook his head. “You sure it's out? You counted the bolts it took to drop that idiot through his robe?”
“Sir!” the general called over the commotion. “He's got a...”
Cas' gauntlet clamped on the man's throat, wrenching gargling noises from it with no more effort than it took to hold the prime minister. The monk got to his knees, eye level with the choking officer. “I believe you were going to say that he has a lens over his eye.”
Cas flipped over his dropped cell-com, once again projecting Sorrin to the assembly. “Agent Halsey, when the city of Solvineaux formed its first government, they asked us to have a reserve force of marshals that could lead their burgeoning military and guide them in spiritual matters. We trained the first Vernai monks as a way to show people the Way to the Crucible. As such, we wrote their duties into the Concordance beside our own. And like us, our duty is to the people, not to any government.”
Cas stepped in between the agent and his target. “Please, Agent, lower your weapon. If you kill Director Rovaton, I can't do my job and see that she receives what she's owed.”
“You can't guarantee that these snakes won't just crawl under another rock.”
“But I can,” Sorrin said. “Right now, the Chief Justice is swearing in the director of colonial affairs as the interim prime minister until we can hold new elections. Dreadmarr warriors, working beside the Vernai, have the Parliament building surrounded. Members implicated in the scandal are being rounded up and sent to San Verone for questioning. If you ride this elevator back to the top, you'll see your friend, Agent Fontaine, again. When he's reunited with his family, do you want to be able to tell them you brought his persecutors to justice, or that you took revenge because it made you feel better?”
There was a tense pause. Then Halsey lowered his weapon, handing it to Vayan.
Marco interrupted. “Negative. You are still on the job, Agent Halsey. The new prime minister will be ushering in military officers from the Force Majeure to serve as his cabinet until the new elections. Chief Inspector, you have that under control?”
“I might need a minute, a new robe, and a chocolate bar. It took a lot out of me to keep his majesty here from ventilating me with that subcompact.”
Marco's image shimmered as he chuckled. “Yeah, I'll get right on those requests. A lioness is on her way to you now, with the former Grand Marshal to add to your collection. She'll take custody of your prisoners. I need you to get back to San Verone and help with matters there. The Dreadmarr has the High Council under lock and key. The legitimate monks will need your help seating the new Grand Master.”
“Oh, so I have the easy part?” Cas asked, holding his burnt robe up to the holo for effect.
The holo faded from view, and Marco turned to face the room. “Thoughts?”
The assembled commanders of the rooks stood their places like statues at the table where the holo-projector sat. Ares and Ajax were at the back of the TOC, their resolve etched into their faces by design. Beside them were Corvin's squad with the company CO. They seemed less secure in their command of the situation as they'd just witnessed the toppling of three government bodies in less than a half an hour. Brand sat near the entrance, trying to explain the importance of what they’d just been through to his deputy.
Something caught Marco's attention. “Roger that. Send them in.”
The Dreadmarr that walked in was clad in black and grey armor, swaddled in a brown cloak riddled with blaster holes. Her face plate was etched in a skull shape, devoid of features except for the red eyes set in a T-shaped visor. Inlaid gold piping along the interior of the skull gave it the impression of an owl's face. Behind her was a person wearing the same armor save the symbol. Fighting beside the Dreadmarr, Corvin had noticed that the different clans, the rooks, had unique symbols on their armor. The one she saw most was a set of stylized wings with an owl face over three lines, like tail feathers. The owl skull on the second warrior's shoulder reminded her more of a human skull than it did a bird's, or at least, owl eyes set above a human skull.
Behind him came two of the largest security bots she'd ever seen. They were immense, but sleek, the kind you only saw when working around noble families in Solvineaux during festivals. Each bore the proper Dreadmarr owl skull worn by Rook Oros.
“Madame Tarot, did you bring me what I asked for?” Hera cooed from the helmet under her hood.
“Yes, ma'am,” the newcomer said flatly through helmet speakers that made her sound like a digital meat grinder.
The unidentified soldier pulled back his hood, prompting the entire group of Dreadmarr to raise their weapons in a sudden and terrible display of hate.
“Hold! He lives until I say otherwise,” Marco said.
“Father Lion?” Athena said, more an accusation of violating some precept, than a question.
“I said, hold. Speak your piece, Gun Wraith.”
The creature had a lower voice than those Corvin heard speak through Dreadmarr helmets. It also had a shimmering timbre that made it feel like he was speaking while running to and then away from the listener.
“Father Lion, my apologies for being late. I had to ensure I wasn't shot out of the sky or had my belly torn open by an overzealous Oros.”
“Cut the theatrics, creature, declare yourself!” Marco demanded.
“I am Aryan Singh and I am here because a promise made is a promise kept, sir.”
“I don't understand,” Corvin asked Beth, “Aren't they all from the same tribe?”
“You don't have to whisper here, lioness. Your courage today earned you a place at this table. Speak your question so we all may hear,” Marco said, pointing to Latisha.
She felt sheepish when all their eyes shifted to her. Clearing her throat, she rephrased the question. “What did this guy do that everyone wants him dead?”
Marco gestured to Hera, who seemed already primed to give an answer. “During the end of the Exodus Wars, so many of the Exile fleets were burning at the hands of marshal led lancers. Our leaders didn't want to hear about negotiating treaties or finding common ground, they only wanted planets to burn. Some of us defected.”
“You're an Exo?” Latisha blurted out.
“Sergeant!” Lieutenant Marlan admonished.
Hera held up a hand, “It's all right, lieutenant, there are many in our helmets that would fit that description. Under cover of a larger battle, I broke my ship from formation to seek out the Lion Guard. My plan was to surrender, hoping to save my crew, my family. To my surprise, he found us a home away from the fighting, where we could carry out our true mission, the protection of a vital asset from our home. Once settled, the Lion Guard revealed a plan for us to get other Exodus Fleet defectors to join our new arrangement. He settled us, trained us, giving us a purpose away from the war. When the last shot had been fired, he came again with an idea, a grand design for our people to live for more than just survival. Once forged, we waited for his call, this man we called Father Lion. We waited to assemble so we may know honor and glory in the universe.
“But this,” she said, gesturing to the Gun Wraith, “was a glitch we didn't intend. This creature learned of our escape, our place with Father Lion, and hid among our numbers. He, and many like him, escaped at the expense of those tricked into remaining. Each murdered when the Exile Nobles discovered them.”
The Gun Wraith stirred, uncomfortable at his origin story. “I am guilty of that and much more. But, my original sin, which placed me here at your mercy, was at the expense of a man who promised to come when you called. His debts became mine, and I have honored all of them save thi
s one. You called. I came. This is my Path. I know the Way. ”
“How dare you!” Athena roared, nearly toppling the table to get at the penitent warrior.
Marco held her in place. “You see, Sergeant Corvin, this man started his life as an AI aboard an Exodus ship. He downloaded into a body prepped for an Exodus cyborg, using their cypher-technology. He stole someone's flesh and left the man behind to be deleted. The Dreadmarr consider them abominations because in more than a few cases, the person they hijacked were friends or family.”
“Twin Hells,” Latisha said, quietly.
“Since taking this body, I've carved a legend across the Frontier for us.”
Marco stepped forward, his countenance leaving no doubt he could easily kill this criminal. To pacify some of the anger, the Gun Wraith dropped to his knees, holding his hands up to show he held no weapons. Marco knelt, bringing himself to eye level. “You carved a legend for yourself, all the while using our name to reach for more. You even assembled your own mercenary force, the Black Cyphers, who think they're working for a legitimate Dreadmarr Rook. Smart, but not authentic.”
“Father Lion, I invoke the Breach for this man.”
“Athena, the Breach is for disputes among family. This man has yet to prove he knows what that is,” Marco said.
The Gun Wraith removed his helmet, laying it at Sorrin's feet. His face was handsome, chiseled in the way one would expect a professional soldier or actor playing at one. His lip was quivering, a sign that despite his origins, he'd been subject to the lesson that flesh comes with all the associated emotion tied to it. “Father Lion, since my sin, I have fathered my own family, who in turn, has fathered theirs. I have enough people trained as a separate rook. I trained them as you trained us. They know the Way. But please, if you have to dispense justice, I beg that you only bring it upon me. They think they're part of something magnificent. They're honorable people. Please don't punish them for my crimes.”
The Sentinel: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 3) Page 19
