Prompt: “The Enforcer was the Law incarnate”
“There are times when solitude is better than society, and silence is wiser than speech.” Smirtka Flora murmured to Knight Veronica as she touched down on her patron’s launchpad.
“Don’t I know it.” Veronica replied.
“Should we not return to the Cathedral?” Flora offered. “Coming here is unsanctioned, and could potentially be considered seditious.”
Veronica shook her head. “There is no way to tell loyal from traitor, now. Abbess Cheryl was a member of the Cult of the Worm? We only have Jeanne’s testimony to prove that.” She spat.
“Smirtka Evelína’s-” Flora began, but Veronica shook her head.
“Like I’d trust her! She’s...” Veronica’s spite softened a little. “She’s gone strange.”
“All Smirtka are strange by human standards, Knight Veronica.” Flora offered amusedly.
Veronica sighed and stepped out from Flora’s embrace. “I do not think of myself as seditious, nor will I raise my hand against another Knight.” She stated decisively. “Depending on how the Cathedral handles the matter of the Cult of the Worm, I will return.” She paused as she undid her hair restraint and let it fall free down her shoulders to her hips. “I will not recognize authority unless it comes from a trustworthy place.”
She squatted on the flight deck and took a long breath from her respirator, and then looked up at Flora. “For now... that means returning to my parents.” She muttered sourly.
She looked up at her battlesuit, the silvery death’s head emblem gleaming in the light of the launch pad.
“We will adopt a wait-and-see approach, for now. Listen in on Cathedral communications, if you would. I need more information. And keep a comm open with me- I’ll need your advice while dealing with... them.” She finished as several House guards approached.
Veronica spent several days at her family’s estate before she was actually allowed to see her father, a somewhat corpulent man with a penchant for intoxicants.
While she was appreciative of her family and the advantages she’d been given since birth, she couldn’t help but wonder how he’d managed to get her mother, a slim and petite woman pregnant. Although, given her mother’s persistent look of exhaustion, one could only guess.
“The nobles talk, you know.” Her father announced at the dinner table, chasing a bite of veal with a small snort from some rebreather that had been tooled with gold scrollwork and lunar iconography.
He grimaced as he spoke. “Some of the witches from that damned place have begun approaching them for sponsorship. As if that place didn’t leech enough from us.”
The drug he’d breathed in from his respirator kicked in, and Veronica could see his eyes dilate to pinpricks and then relax so much that they lost their original color. His hands, which had been clenched so tight as if to prevent anything from escaping them relaxed, and a little drool escaped the corner of his too-wide mouth.
A small sigh of disappointment came from her mother, seated at the far end of the table.
Veronica wondered if she should tell him of the circumstances surrounding her decision to leave, but refrained.
He pointed his fork at her. “Is that what this is? Are you here to bleed the House dry?”
Veronica sighed at the same time her mother did.
“No, father-” She started, but he suddenly swept his plate off the table with a clatter.
“Because you won’t get a single coin!” He shouted with a snarl. “I never once agreed to you going to the Cathedral, and damn their ‘Mandate of the Moon’!”
His thick, meaty fists pounded the table, and his wife and Veronica’s little brother and sister lifted their plates from the table to spare their meals his capricious rages.
“They get nothing from me, and you’ll get even less!” He shouted, and then let out a deep, hacking cough that rumbled in his chest. He took several deep pulls from his respirator, his breath suddenly feathery-light wheezes.
Veronica frowned at that.
“They think...” He muttered, his voice muffled behind the respirator in his thick fingers, “that they can take what they want. Take who they want. Decide for others what is best for them!” He complained.
His jittery gaze fell on Veronica. “It’s... it’s good that you’ve come home.” He said, completely at odds with what he said earlier. “I’ll contact the Chrysdam House tomorrow to arrange your marriage to them.”
His gaze shifted to her siblings. “Why are you holding your plates like that? We are nobles, not savages.” He fumbled for his cane and forced his swollen bulk to his feet.
“I- I think I’ll... I think I’ll go lay down for a bit.” He wheezed, and then struggled to leave the room, groaning in pain the entire way.
Veronica was silent until he left, but once he was gone, she looked to her mother. “His penchant for drugs is catching up to him, it seems.” She observed dryly.
Her mother sighed again, a tiny little exhalation from a tiny, petite woman. “It’s not-” She started, and then changed what she was going to say. “Those are painkillers, dear. It’s medicine. Your father is... sick.”
Veronica had heard that excuse before, many times.
Her siblings set their plates back on the table and began eating.
The Knight considered pointing out to her mother that his sickness was addiction, but refrained. The last time she’d done that, her mother had turned into a screaming harridan worse than her father.
She rubbed her forehead irritably. “Where shall I be sleeping tonight?” She asked. “The servant’s quarters?”
Her mother blinked at that. “Your room, of course.”
“Father didn’t seem too taken with the idea of me returning home.” Veronica replied.
“It’s your ...clothes, dear.” Her mother replied delicately, pointing out that Veronica hadn’t removed her contact suit. “I’m certain that if you wore more... appropriate clothing, he would be far more welcoming.” She encouraged.
Veronica immediately wanted to refuse. If she didn’t wear her contact suit, then there would be difficulties connecting with Flora. She was on call, she needed to be ready to climb into her Smirtka at a moment’s notice-
Oh, right. There wasn’t a need for that, anymore. Technically she’d gone rogue. Traitor.
She pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll think about it. For the time being I’ll move Flora from the hoverpad.”
Veronica’s mother gave her a confused look. “Flora?” She asked.
“Ah. My... battlesuit.” She replied.
Her mother placed one hand on her cheek and tilted her head. “If you think that’s for the best, dear.” She decided.
Veronica took her time as she headed for the hoverpad as she contemplated everything she’d been told and experienced.
The Mandate of the Moon was an edict from the Cathedral that allowed the Cathedral to appropriate whatever resources that they felt necessary in order to defend and protect the Hive City. This included people- they recruited prospective Knights from all walks of life.
The young Knight Irene came from the meanest slums while people like Beth and Veronica were recruited from the nobility. Knight Jeanne came from the Custodians, an order of secluded artisans that created many of the heavy weapons that were used to defend the Hive from mutants, rogue elements, and armies from other, more hostile Hives.
You weren’t considered a real Knight until you could handle Custodian-class weaponry with your Smirtka.
Aside from the poverty-stricken, there probably wasn’t a single caste of people that did not like the Cathedral recruiting into their ranks.
However, it was the Cathedral that took the people they recruited, the weapons and resources they collected, and forged them into the important Holy Knights that protected the Hive City from within and without.
Veronica looked up at Flora. “Yet, should those mountains crumble.” She recited up at the battlesuit.
The silvery eyes of the death’s head helm flared alight. “The river too would vanish from our sight.” It replied in Flora’s voice, and then opened up.
Veronica stepped in and settled into Flora’s embrace.
“I don’t understand these poems.” Veronica complained as she ran through the systems startup check.
“I like the aesthetics of them.” Flora replied simply. “From what I’ve been able to tell, they predate the Hive Cities, and yet still hold relevance.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Poetry is the language of the heart. Of course it would transcend time.” Veronica replied, and guided Flora into the hangar where her family kept their flight craft.
“I will warn you again, this is bordering on sedition.” Flora admonished in strong tones.
“I understand. Anything from the Cathedral?” She asked.
“I intercepted a call from Knight Jeanne to the Paladins. It seems she is seeking their counsel.” Flora replied.
Veronica nodded at that. “Keep me appraised. I would have turned traitor had she reached out to another Hive. Seeking the Paladin’s wisdom is a smart move.”
One of the indicators inside Flora lit up. “I suggest paying attention to the rad count.” Flora advised. “The air particulate count is reasonably breathable.”
“Certainly cleaner than other places.” Veronica agreed, toggling away the screen without looking.
“The Cathedral was cleaner.” Flora prodded.
“Right, right.” Veronica agreed, and once inside the hangar, slipped out of Flora. She stripped out of the contact suit, a skintight suit with contacts in various places for a Smirtka to connect with its pilot, and placed it in Flora’s cockpit while she shrugged into a robe she’d placed earlier.
“Pay attention to Cathedral comm traffic.” She advised Flora. “I want to know when it’s safe to return.”
She stepped back into her family’s home.
Unfortunately for Veronica, her father had made good on his threat to have Veronica married off to the Chrysdam House. She was told by her mother to expect the arrival of the head of their family to visit in a day or so.
“I am a Holy Knight, you know.” Veronica objected. “I can’t get married.”
Her mother looked at her skeptically. “Everyone knows that the Cathedral of the Moon is ... experiencing turbulence.” She replied. “And you haven’t done anything particularly Knight-worthy since arriving here.” She mused. “You even moved that frightful battlesuit to the back of the family hangar.” Her mother finished with a nod. “Be happy with your marriage.” She encouraged.
Veronica rubbed her temples with her fingertips. Another headache was growing. “I’m not getting married.” She repeated, and forcibly switched topics. “Where’s father?”
“He’s ill, I’m afraid.” Her mother replied. “Likely with the same bug that your brother and sister are feeling.” She replied, and rubbed her own forehead. “I confess I’m feeling a bit ill, myself.”
“Then it’s not a good idea to have the Chrysdams come visit.” Veronica suggested.
Her mother smiled, though it was one of cunning. Her father was overbearing, and liked to force things into getting his way, but her mother was the real master of the house, making sure things went her way.
“You cannot escape that way.” Her mother replied. “Besides, the Chrysdams have long been friends and allies with our house. It is not such an onerous thing. They are not monsters or grotesques.”
Veronica shook her head. “I’m going to speak with Flora. She at least makes sense, even when all she speaks is poetry.”
Her mother gave her the typical look she always gave of puzzled confusion, one hand on her cheek, head tilted.
“You always act like it can talk to you.” She murmured.
Veronica nodded. “She does. Would you like to come see?”
Her mother shook her head. “Certainly not. Such a frightful thing.” She immediately replied.
“Flora is certainly not a monster or a grotesque.” She urged.
Veronica’s mother reluctantly agreed to accompany the Knight out to the hangar, where the Battlesuit challenged Veronica with, “For a moment in my heart, I feel that spring has come.”
Veronica racked her brain for the response to the poem, but it was her mother that beat her to it:
“As though pretending to be blooms, the snow flakes scatter in the wintry sky.” She replied, and Flora burst into laughter.
Veronica sighed. Her thoughts were sluggish with the headache that was brewing.
“Any news?” She asked.
“Nothing.” Flora replied. “I suspect they’ve changed communication channels.” The battlesuit paused. “Have you checked the rad levels?” She asked.
Veronica gave the battlesuit a puzzled look. “Should I?” She asked. “The house is as shielded as best as money could buy.”
A tendril oozed out of Flora and a scanning beam panned across Veronica’s figure, and then her mothers.
“Both of you are displaying radiation sickness symptoms.” Flora reported.
“That can’t be right. Let me inside.” Veronica commanded, and then waved her mother back as Flora opened up.
Veronica shucked her dress and pulled on the cold contact suit, then stepped into the battlesuit.
“Unbearably cold.” Veronica hissed, even as Flora warmed up.
All of Flora’s systems came online, and the rad sensors spiked on the screen. The display showed a simple green-yellow-red bar, and the indicator was edging into yellow.
“This is ambient?” Veronica asked.
“Yes.” Flora replied.
“Go active. Where is it coming from?” She asked.
Flora activated the active sensors.
“I suspect it’s coming from within the house.” Flora suggested. “I cannot scan through the shielding.”
“This is horrible.” Veronica complained. “I don’t think you can fit through the doorway.”
“Part of me can.” Flora replied, and a long, thick tendril extruded itself.
“Hopefully we can find it with that.” Veronica agreed, and then stepped out of Flora.
Her mother was eyeing the battlesuit with fear and wariness. “Is what that thing- she-it- saying true?” She asked.
Veronica nodded. “The ambient radiation is pretty high. We should be taking medications to offset the effects at these levels.”
Her mother took in a hissing breath. “The children. Oh, no. Oh, dear.” She moaned.
Veronica opened the heavy door that led into the house, and Flora’s tendril slithered inside.
“This place is hot.” Flora warned. A finger-thick tendril branched off from the trunk and resolved itself into a small display panel; the green-yellow-red display had the indicator in the hard red.
“What could be causing it?” Veronica demanded. “Can we find the source?”
The trunk-thick tendril surged into the house, extruding dozens of smaller tendrils that moved across the various rooms, down halls, up stairs, and across the small inner garden.
“Mother, Flora is saying that the house is so irradiated that it might as well be on the ground.” Veronica reported to her mother.
“Well, what should we do?” Her mother asked, fear turning her voice brittle, on the edge of hysteria.
“I’m thinking.” Veronica replied irritably. “For how, let me figure out what’s causing this mess.”
Veronica turned to her battlesuit. “Make sure to check the piping. I don’t think it’s terribly farfetched for rads to be piped in from some other location.”
Flora chuckled. “It’s not the piping.” She replied.
Just then, a luxuriously appointed personal flight vehicle touched down on the flight deck, and two men stepped out, one older than the other.
The younger one stopped the older one and pointed at Flora, but the older waved at him dismissively. Veronica’s mother stepped out of the hangar and greeted the two of them.
Veronica gave them a passing glance as she realized that the tendrils that Flora had extruded were retracting.
“Found it?” She asked.
“Found them.” Flora countered.
“What should my family do?” Veronica asked. “The house is irradiated.”
“There are cleaning agents and processes that can be performed to make it livable again.” Flora replied. “I myself am able to absorb and metabolize radiation, you know.”
“...right.” Veronica realized. One of the things that the original Plants flourished in was radiation. “If this gets out to the other Houses, we’re finished.” She muttered.
The older man stepped into the hangar. “No matter how many times I see them, battlesuits live up to their names. Ready for war.” he said by way of greeting. “I’ve already spoken to your fellow Knights, Beth and Clarice. They’ve agreed to work for me.” He looked her over. “It’s a good coincidence that your house is allied with mine; I would be happy to look after your daughter as well.” Lord Chrysdam advised Veronica’s mother. “I envision a line of enforcers, the enforcers being the law incarnate.” He continued in breathy, awestruck tones. “They will bring order to chaos. Truth to lies. Hope to the hopeless.”
Veronica had heard such things before. The various noble houses all had ideas for the Holy Knights, if they’d just listen and take the money. Naturally, each House had their own idea of what the law was, what it meant- and whether or not it applied to them.
Several metal figurines appeared in Flora’s tendril.
“What are those?” Veronica asked.
“The sources of the radiation.” Flora reported.
Veronica’s mother turned to Lord Chrysdam. “You gave us those pieces.” She accused. “Why would you do that?”
Lord Chrysdam’s face slipped, and he shot a nervous look at Veronica, who was stepping into Flora.
“Look, I had no idea-” He began, but Veronica cut him off.
“Under the law, this would constitute attempted murder.” Her voice was harsh and grating through the vox. “As an enforcer, it would be my job to enforce the law. Isn’t that right?” She asked.
He took a step back and tugged on the sleeve of the younger man.
“Come on, son. Let’s let them sort things out between themselves.” He finished nervously, and struggled into a run towards their craft.
“Catch him. Catch them both.” Veronica ordered Flora, who quickly snatched them up with additional tendrils.
They started begging and pleading, the younger began offering bribes to look the other way. Veronica muted the audio so she wouldn’t have to listen to them anymore.
“What about my family? Will they make it?” She asked Flora.
“With an extensive decontamination and a radical adjustment of dietary intake, your mother, brother, and little sister will have no problems, albeit with a higher risk of cancers in the future.” Flora replied. “Plus any offspring may have problems.”
“My father?” She asked.
“Your father is already dying. No degree of surgery or augmentation would be enough to keep him alive.”
Veronica sighed. “I thought as much. I didn’t want to admit it- no, I would have admitted it. He had a great love of his vices, and I knew it would catch up to him eventually- but to actually hear it...” Veronica shook her head.
“Those idiots?” She asked.
“Technically what they did was not attempted murder. Further, I cannot judge them for murder under Cathedral law.” Flora paused. “As long as you remain away from the Cathedral, neither can you.”
Veronica rolled her eyes and grit her teeth. “How would the Cathedral judge them?” She asked.
“Transportation and distribution of harmful substances. Also intentionally bringing unshielded radioactive materials into a habitation zone is a crime under Cathedral law.”
“Fine. If I agree to return to the Cathedral, can I kill them?” Veronica asked.
“Of course.” Flora replied.
“So be it.” Veronica replied, and twisted her wrists, deploying Flora’s blades.
Holy Knight Veronica strode across House Claude’s helipad and dispensed justice to a pair of rad-terrorists. Cycling up her Smirtka’s jets, she plotted a course back to the Cathedral.
“Let’s go home.”