Olivia Duma

The mechanically powered door hisses shut, sealing me in the conference room with the Knight Commander. No, not just the Knight Commander. The person standing before me is Donna Kuat, the sister of Don Kuat, the Operator I had been assigned to supervise. I watch Donna Kuat warily as she begins rifling through a pile of papers on a mahogany long table, not daring to relax. Leather chairs line the table and the walls of the room are covered with purple velvet curtains. A single crystal chandelier provides illumination while a small projector sits by itself on the table, waiting to be called into action.

"There's no need to be scared." the Knight Commander gives me a look as she scans a file, "I'm not going to bite."

"There's worse things other than just being bitten." I remark dryly, giving Donna Kuat a look of my own.

"Fair enough." Donna shrugs, "Though our meeting was caused by you transferring my brother's case to the Cathedral Knights."

"Of course." I say neutrally, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm not here to carry water for my brother, if that's what you're hinting at." Donna Kuat replies as she finally finds the file she is looking for, "Though I will admit that he is the reason why I've summoned you and your partner here, Olivia."

"That's not much of an explanation." I say, frowning, "Don's stationed in the Citadel. And this blimp is obviously being readied for a long journey. What's the connection?"

"One thing at a time." the Knight Commander rasps, clearing her throat slightly as she peruses the file in her hand, "It'll be easier for you to understand if I explained this matter step by step." Donna Kuat waves a sheaf of documents in front of my face, a set of documents that I know well. After all, I'm the one who prepared it.

"That's my investigation report into the Jasvinder Krishnan case." I comment, "What about it?"

"You cleared Don of any wrong doing," the Knight Commander observes, "even though the militia's preliminary findings pointed to him being the murderer of a citizen."

"I had interviewed Don." I explain, "And checked his deployment ring. Your brother admitted to being at the scene but not actually meeting the victim. His deployment ring confirms that he hadn't seen combat either."

"And you believed Don?" my subject's sister asks with a slightly incredulous voice.

"Of course not. He reeks of dubiousness." I snort, "But that doesn't change the fact that he could not have engaged in a bulwark fight at the material time."

"And so you cleared him and shifted the investigation's focus to Jasvinder Krishnan." Donna remarks.

"No matter how Don's involved, he could not have committed that murder." I adjust my slightly too long sleeve out of habit, "And the investigation uncovered a possible threat to the Leader posed by Jasvinder. So the nature of the investigation changed."

"Rightly so." Donna places my report back in the file, "But you are wrong about one thing, Olivia."

"Which is?" I mutter, taken aback by how affable everything has been so far. I had expected the report to be torn too pieces by Don's sister. Or at the very least a demand that it be formally retracted. Could Donna Kuat be serious about her claim about not trying to cover up the matter?

"Don almost certainly did commit the murder." the Grandmistress of the Cathedral Knights grimly states, "Jasvinder might have been involved as well, but I'm certain most of the fighting was done by Don."

"How do you know that?" I quiz the man's sister, "There's nothing to indicate that conclusion. And Jasvinder was openly engaging in combat with another mystery pilot before the Fallen attack on the Citadel."

"Jasvinder clearly had trouble with the other mystery pilot." Donna Kuat taps the table with the file.

"That does not actually prove Don was the murderer though." I refuse to back down, my pride as an investigator at stake.

"I have ... a ... source that corroborates that part of the theory." Donna answers hesitantly, "I can't say too much, not even to you Olivia, but just know that Don has a way of concealing his bulwark use."

"That's impossible. All recharge prayers are logged into the system." I narrow my eye, surprised at the level of deference being shown to me. As someone much higher in the totem pole, Donna is well within her rights to refuse to share information. What is actually going on here?

"Don is ... unique. Let's put it that way." the knight commander sucks her lips uneasily as she continues, "It was a surprise when I heard all the details, but I trust my source completely."

"You would trust the words of a mysterious source claiming your brother is a murderer?" I blink in surprise at this outrageous claim.

"Yes." Donna says firmly.

"It must be one heck of a source." I remark disbelievingly, "Or you must really dislike Don. I know he can be difficult, but this is going a bit too far, isn't it?"

"Don was never close to the family." Donna answers with her lips pressed into a thin line, "And I would trust this source with my life."

"I still don't understand why my presence here is required though." I respond unhappily, getting steadily more and more suspicious of what is really going on. But if the Knight Commander is put out by my lack of cooperativeness, she does not show it.

Donna Kuat sighs in relief at this change in tack and proceeds with her briefing, "You heard about the search for the new Saint called by the Cathedral?"

"Who hasn't?" I remark, "Its the biggest news since, well, ever really."

"This information is highly sensitive, so don't let it leave this room." Kuat squares her shoulders, getting serious, "The search was called by the Cathedral without the consent of the Leader. That's why the Cathedral is requesting volunteers. It cannot call upon established Valkyrie or Rose formations."

"What!" I exclaim in surprise, "Isn't the Leader the head of the Cathedral?"

"Yes, but the Chorus supports the search being launched." Donna fold her arms meditatively, "That limits what kind of action the Leader can take."

I scrunch my face in thought, hoping it doesn't look to off putting to my interlocutor. This is big news indeed. Donna Kuat is all but admitting that the Leader and the Cathedral no longer see eye to eye. Since we are already discussing sensitive matters, I decide to take the plunge.

"Are you saying that the search for the Saint is bogus?" I challenge while locking eyes with the Grandmistress, "Or that the Leader doesn't want the Saint to be found?"

"Neither." Donna denies, "The Leader very much wants the Saint to be found. That's why a low key search had been personally launched by the Leader several weeks ago."

"But?" I prompt, growing slightly impatient with all this cloak and dagger maneuvering. My paycheck isn't big enough to be worth all this trouble.

"But the Cathedral might have its own ideas as to how to identify the Saint." Donna concludes, "That's the reason for this mission. We need to support the existing search teams and make sure the proper Saint is secured before the Cathedral's volunteers ruin everything."

"Oh. That makes sense actually." I respond, "Yellow Roses do specialize in tracking subjects down. But you would need far more Roses than just Holt and I."

Donna sucks her breath in again as a constipated look settles on her face while she speaks, "Not exactly. We don't actually need you to investigate anything. We have specialized trackers among the Knights. The reason why I summoned you Olivia is, uh, because of fate, really?"

"Fate." I answer after my mind recovers from blanking out thanks to that outrageous statement from the Grandmistress. Donna might be more polite, but she is just as weird as her brother. It must run in the family.

Donna waves my report about once more for emphasis, her voice growing more solemn, "This report was an omen Olivia. A sign from the Divines. This mission needs you. The Saint needs you."

"For what?" I raise my voice in exasperation, no longer concerned with protocol. But again, there's no reprimand from the superior officer in front of me.

"To protect her." Donna grabs my shoulders firmly, taking me aback, "Don is one of the volunteers sent by the Cathedral."

"Don's an Auxilia." I say, patting her on the arms in an awkward show of camaraderie, "And you have plenty of Valkyries to spare."

"And each of them will fight to the death for the sake of the Saint's safety." Donna stares deep into my eyes, "But if that is not enough, the Saint will only be able to count on you."

"Yeah, this is weirding me out." I break free from Donna's grasp, "I'm going to say no to this assignment, sorry."

"I've done some checking on you Olivia." Donna speaks hesitantly, "I know you're unique. The same way Don is."

"What in the world are you talking about?" I bark, my temper finally snapping completely.

Donna steps away from me and walks towards one of the walls covered by the velvet curtain. She then pulls a length of gold braid causing the curtain to draw open, revealing a picture of seven Valkyries standing together.

But not just any seven Valkyries.

"Paladins. Those who bear the mark of the Divines." Donna continues, "A Valkyrie who serves not just the Citadel, but also a higher power."

My eyes are glued to the painting, basking in the radiant beauty of the six pilots. But it is the seventh, the last pilot in the assembled row that holds my attention. A middle aged woman whose face looks like it had been sprayed with acid. My hand instinctively reaches towards my ruined eye before I realize what is happening.

"The mark of the Divines is not always easy to bear." Donna says compassionately, "Treat it like a badge of honor, Olivia. There are many knights who would die for the privilege."

Then they can go die. Or that's what I want to say. But I restrain myself. Now that I know why the Grandmistress is being so courteous, I have all the more reason to be wary.

"Regina is ever victorious. And there are many pilots who bear her favor." I remark, leaving the part about their enhanced beauty unsaid, "You should be recruiting them as your Paladins. Not me."

"Regina. Yes." Donna nods slowly, "We both know why Regina is always victorious. Even if her champions aren't. But the grace of Iros on the other hand ..."

"Stays on your face." I mutter resentfully, no longer bothering to restrain myself from rubbing the eye patch.

"Is eternal." Donna corrects, "I would be a fool to pick a champion of Regina over a Paladin of Iros now, would I?"

"And how does all this tie in with Don?" I question, "Which divine is supporting him?"

"We don't know." Donna admits helplessly, "Don does serve a higher power, my source is confident about that. But its outside of the Orthodox Divines."

A memory flashes through my mind. As Don's supervisor, I was the one who administered his political reliability tests. Don passed without issue, but there was always one segment that he was never able to answer. Don could never correctly recall the names of the seven Divines. At the time I thought it was him being difficult again. Its ridiculous that a grown man couldn't accomplish something a schoolchild manages without problem. But if what his sister just told me is true, that means ...

Don couldn't remember the names of the Divines because he never actually prayed to them. And that explains his mediocre yet bizarrely decorated war record. Don should not have survived his experiences in the war based on his actual skills as a pilot.

Unless he had outside help.

"So now you know why we need you Olivia." Donna spreads her arms wide, "Will you abandon the Saint in her time of need?"

"Nice try using Iros's code on me." I smirk, "But I have no idea who the Saint is. And the Saint might not even exist for all we know. I cannot show mercy and compassion towards such an unknown."

"Then you still refuse to join this mission?" Donna purses her lips as tension builds in the room.

"Now that I know you want me to fight someone who's possibly the equivalent of a Paladin?" I snort, "Obviously. There's sense of duty and there's courting death."

"Then we will release you, Paladin Duma." Donna says formally and I waste no time in turning towards the door. But she's not done with me yet.

"We cannot guarantee the safety of your partner though." the Grandmistress states, "Ms Holt seems to be interested in joining us for this mission. I don't rate her chances highly if she meets up with my brother during the search."

"You ..." I snarl with barely concealed anger as my every instinct begins to rebel against me, my body demanding I commit to something that I simply do not care for. Sweat begins to flow down my back as I dig my metaphorical heels into the dirt.

But its a forgone conclusion. Ever since that accursed day, I have lived only for one thing. To uphold the principles of compassion and mercy.

No matter the cost.