Olivia Duma

Now ...

"Do you know why we had been summoned here, Lieutenant?" Holt nervously asks me as both our bulwarks touch down with a hiss in the hangar of the Leader's pleasure blimp. With the last of the passengers on board, the blimp's passenger gate closes with a mechanical groan and the servants onboard begin securely stowing away the luggage.

I frown at Holt's question as the Cathedral Knights take their places all around the blimp's interior, standing guard in full bulwark. This level of security is way over the line, even if the Knights job description is VIP protection. No Valkyrie would be expected to be in full bulwark all the time, and that's including during an active campaign against the Fallen. The expenditure in divine energy required to keep this level of readiness at all times must be insane.

"Not a clue." I reply to Holt, feeling equally uneasy at what's going on around us. Like Holt, I had received the order to board the Leader's pleasure blimp just a few hours earlier. No explanation, nothing. Just instructions to gather at the Leader's tower and to pack for an extended trip away from the Citadel.

I had arrived at the entrance of the Leader's tower shortly after Holt, and the sight that greeted me was my partner surrounded by Cathedral Knights with a burlap bag placed over her head, muffling her protests. Before I could say anything, strong hands grabbed me from behind and my head was swaddled with a burlap bag of its own. I was then, admittedly very gently, guided through the darkness, the only noise being the scuffle of feet and the increasingly distressed noises being made by Holt.

I had expected the burlap bag to be stifling, but my face experienced a kind of refreshing coolness while bundled up inside it. From the bag's underlining, most probably. That cool sensation is probably from the radiation used to suppress the activation of my deployment earring. The Knights don't want Holt and I to cause trouble, yet have no problem with us being armed? Curious.

When the bags had been removed from our heads, we were at the roof of the Leader's tower, face to face with the blimp hovering nearby. Holt and I were then ordered to deploy our bulwarks and fly in formation with our Knight minders to board the vessel. Everything went more or less uneventfully from that point on, with the exception of Holt growing increasingly freaked out over being suddenly perched atop the highest point of the Citadel when we were at street level, roughly an hour ago, I suppose? The sudden appearance of the blimp did Holt's frazzled temperament no favors either.

And that takes us to the present, inside the Leader's pleasure blimp, still surrounded by Cathedral Knights, with one of them walking right up to us.

"Yellow Roses Duma and Holt?" the Knight asks using her bulwark's external speakers, "Please dismiss your machines and come with me."

"Everyone's still deployed though." I say, making a show of looking about the blimp's interior.

"Its for all the passengers' safety." the Knight states without budging, "Please dismiss your bulwarks."

I shrug and comply, no point in making a show of defiance when we don't even know why we've been brought here. Holt follows suit and flashes me a worried look. The Knight nods in satisfaction and begins leading us into the blimp proper.

"I hope I don't get cancer from the bag that was over my face." I comment idly to no one in particular.

"Cancer?" Holt's spine bolts upright in alarm, "The bags cause cancer?"

"The inner lining does, yes." I confirm, "Its a material used to prevent the dispersion of divine energy right? The lining gradually breaks down, releasing radiation that does the actual magic."

"You won't get cancer from such short term exposure." the Knight scoffs as we begin walking down a red carpeted corridor decorated with a marble bust of Regina, "Anyway, the bags were the most convenient thing we had on hand."

"So it does cause cancer?" Holt wails, worriedly poking at her face. I decide to ignore my partner's hysterics and focus on the morsel of information dropped by the Knight.

"So, you were already using the bags for something." I muse, "And you don't seem worried about overusing your bulwarks, considering every Knight we've seen so far has remained fully deployed."

"This isn't the Yellow Roses, Lieutenant." the Knight remarks irritably, "You won't get points for your detective act here. If you have something to say, just say it."

"The bags are being used to carry additional deployment earrings. The inner lining of the bags prevents the inactive earrings from dissipating their divine energy." I remark, "That's why you're not worried about overusing your bulwarks. You plan to swap them out when their power levels get too low."

"Like I said, just now," the Knight drones tonelessly, "all this is for the safety of the passengers, which include both of you by the way."

"Uh," Holt asks worriedly from the side, "Is this blimp going to be attacked or anything like that?"

"I have to second my partner's question." I press the increasingly exasperated Knight, "And since both of us are very obviously not the VIPs on this vessel, just who are the Knights protecting?"

Our small group comes to a stop in front of a massive wooden double door, flanked by a pair of Knights, again in full bulwark. Our guide just nods tiredly at the duo and one of them knocks respectfully on the door before heading inside. A flag bearing the Citadel's coat of arms is spread just above the door and a circular fountain tinkles merrily in the background.

"No one's attacking the blimp." the Knight guiding us sighs, "All this is just a precaution. You will get the details of why you're here during the briefing. Just relax for now."

"So we're going to be meeting the VIP?" Holt perks up noticeably at this prospect. Silly girl probably thinks that she's rising in the world. But this whole situation smells so irregular that its more likely we've been caught up in some kind of inter department fight. Whomever's pulling the Knight's strings most likely wants us to do some off the books work for them. Its the only reason why there's been so much secrecy. A dangerous situation to be in, especially for small fries like Holt and myself.

"Not exactly." the Knight shakes her head, "Our VIP is rather paranoid to be honest. Our commander will be briefing you instead."

"Yellow Roses only accept orders from the Garden." I comment flatly, hoping to put a stop to any nonsense involving us that the Knights might have planned.

Before our guide can object to my statement, the double doors open again and the guard steps out, this time accompanied by an incredibly tall black woman clad in the uniform of the Knights but surprisingly not with her bulwark deployed. As the guard returns to her position by the door, the black woman walks towards Holt and myself with purpose causing our guide to respectfully fall back. The cogs in my head begin to turn as I begin trying to work out where I've seen that black woman before. Her face is really familiar, but I just can't place it.

"You're that Valkyrie from the videos!" Holt blurts out, "The ones about the recent battle for the Citadel!"

"Oh those?" the statuesque woman laughs before lowering her voice theatrically, "Don't tell anyone, but those videos about me fighting the Fallen? They're nothing but propaganda."

The lame joke works wonders in disarming Holt, who begins to laugh along with the newcomer, all former nervousness forgotten. But I notice that the woman's smile does not reach her eyes, which remain sharp and probing.

"Olivia Duma." the newcomer greets, losing all interest in Holt and offering me her hand, "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise." I reciprocate the gesture with a firm handshake, "As I was saying earlier to your subordinate, has the Garden cleared whatever mission you intend for us to perform?"

"The Garden won't need to." the woman shifts to a businesslike tone, "Both of you have been seconded to the Cathedral Knights for the duration of this mission. I'll have your papers and fresh identification delivered to both of you later."

"I see." I accept this explanation reluctantly. Whatever our official status may be, we're still outsiders to the closed circle which makes up the Cathedral Knights. Holt on the other hand is staring attentively with stars in her eyes, completely overawed by everything that's going on. She's probably already imagining what a big score career wise this mission will be for her, of course not realizing how suspect this entire setup is.

"Why have we been summoned here, Commander?" I ask formally, putting aside my misgivings for the moment. Things might be on the up and up, as unlikely as it may be.

"It's actually because of you, Olivia." the Commander replies with surprising familiarity, "The recent report you filed with the Cathedral Knights came to my attention. One thing led to another, and here we are."

"Recent report?" I mutter, my mind drawing a blank. And then it hits me. The investigation into Kuat and Jasvinder Krishnan. Madam's admission that Jasvinder was planning something with the Leader's family. I swallow hard with shock. The whole reason I reported that case to the Knights was to remove it from the Garden's jurisdiction and get it out of my hair. I never expecting that investigation to become the equivalent of a ball and chain around my leg, dragging me about everywhere.

I'm sure the panel back at the Garden had something to do with this. Those old bitches had to be laughing when they signed off to this secondment. Too bad for Holt to be caught up in my problems though.

No, wait, that was a bad thought. An uncharitable thought. But I just made a donation to the Cathedral, so it should be alright.

"The Jasvinder Krishnan case?" I ask, bringing myself back to reality.

"That's the one." the Commander nods, "I've had the briefing room prepared for us, Olivia. My subordinate will be assisting Ms Holt in sorting out your quarters and luggage. Shall we?"

Before I realize it, Holt is being led off by the Knight in the opposite direction, leaving me with no choice but to follow the Commander deeper into the blimp.

"Not that I mind," I say while catching up with the Commander, "but I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Commander ...?"

"Oh, how rude of me." the Commander smiles, "Though my name should be somewhat familiar to you."

"I don't think so?" I respond, not quite sure how the Commander got that idea.

"Anyway, my name." the Commander's voice drops an octave, a stark departure from her original friendliness.

"Its Kuat. Donna Kuat. Pleased to meet you, Olivia."