Wearing a dark business suit, with her long, raven hair gathered in a tail, Kate Michaels stood in the open doorway of the office of Richard Sonnac in Temple Hall. She knocked on the doorframe and, seated at his desk, the smartly attired Sonnac looked up from the paperwork in which he had been engrossed.
"Ah. Michaels.” He gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “Please have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?”
Kate made her way to the chair. “No,” she said, taking a seat. She crossed her legs, folding her hands atop her knee. She looked at Sonnac with a grim expression, and he in turn considered her in a brief moment of thoughtful silence.
“It is easy to imagine,” the man said, “that someone in your position might feel hard done by. A year lost. Your reputation tainted-“
“My life invaded,” Kate interrupted. “Being treated like a criminal for daring to show my face in the Hall. My personal freedoms curtailed, my phone tapped, my every step monitored. Guards spitting, actually spitting at me as I pass.”
“You’ve suffered an injustice.”
“Injustice barely covers it.”
“Quite so.” Sonnac steepled his fingers and again considered Kate in a moment of thoughtful quiet. “Change,” he said, getting up from his seat, “is slow.” He walked over to the fireplace on one side of the room, where he stopped and clasped his hands behind his back, looking up at the large oil painting which hung there in its ostentatious gilt frame, an avenging angel brandishing sword and shield. “Especially in an institution as venerable as ours. We have certain… behaviours that have become ingrained. We tend, for instance, to see the world in black and white. Right and wrong. Good. And evil. Sometimes,” Sonnac said, turning from the painting, “things are not quite so simple.” He looks at Kate seriously. “The death of Simon Chambers was regrettable.”
Kate opened her mouth to protest and Sonnac held up a finger for silence. “That is not to say,” he continued, “that it was not deserved. Your late handler was by all accounts a disturbed and disturbing individual. He was no true Templar. Had he lived, however, the course of justice would have run much more smoothly. Do you not think?”
Kate pressed her lips into a line. The man, frustratingly, had a point. Chambers had stalked her. Gone beyond stalking, really. Footage, photographs, sound files, personal items, clothing; his collection had been more than extensive. The man had spent years cataloguing her whole life. When Kate had found out, she'd destroyed the collection in a rigged gas explosion. Unfortunately for her, Chambers had arrived home at exactly the wrong moment and been killed. Kate had been charged with murder and sentenced to service with Temple Hall's suicide squad, the Ordo Obscurus. She'd appealed, but the process had taken more than a year before she had finally been acquitted. If she hadn't reacted as she had, if she'd gone through proper channels, there would have been more than enough evidence to take action against Chambers. Even so. The death had been an accident, and even if it hadn't, if the man hadn't been a Templar then Kate would have been acting within the authority granted her by the Hall.
“I hope,” Kate said, “that you’re not trying to say my time in the Ordo Obscurus was excusable.”
“Not at all. No. But it is important that you understand why you were there.”
“I was there because Inquisitors would make shitty police officers.”
Sonnac barked a laugh, then after a moment cleared his throat. “The Inquisition is a fine body of men and women, doing good work in difficult circumstances.” There was the sense that he could have been reading from a card. Kate arched an eyebrow at him and, just for the briefest moment, he looked uncomfortable. Half-turning back to the painting, he beckoned to her. “Come. Tell me what you see.”
Kate stood and walked to join Sonnac by the fireplace. She crossed her arms and looked up at the angel, its sword held as if to strike. She frowned and tilted her head a little. The angel’s shield bore a cross, representing the Templar Order. “I see a very old organisation that believes itself pure. That it can do no wrong. I also see that this organisation is surrounded by a lot of dead bodies. Presumably they were evil, while the angel is good. But like you said, the world is not that simple.”
Sonnac smiled at Kate, evidently pleased. “You have a good eye, Michaels. No, you’re right. No one is entirely one thing or the other. Not even our angelic friend here.” He looked at the painting and frowned. “Indeed, it is not unknown for angels to be capable of great evil. Everyone needs a way to...” He thought for a moment or two, searching for the right term. Looking at Kate, he smiled slightly, without humour. “To stay honest.”
Kate looked at Sonnac with a slight frown, not entirely sure what he was getting at. “Sir-“
“Your conviction has been overturned, Michaels, and your rank and privilege restored. You are once again to be attached to our intelligence section as a field agent.” Sonnac crossed back to his desk and sat, picking up a sealed envelope from on top of a stack of papers. Blinking, Kate followed him back to the desk and resumed her seat.
“Sir-“
“I’m assigning you to Knight Captain Havelock for now. Assist her in her endeavours. You will of course have access to all the resources you enjoyed before your annus horribilis. Use them wisely.”
“Cass? But she-“
“Isn’t intelligence, no. But you seem to work well together and I think that we should make use of the synergy that is possible when the disparate sections of the Order cooperate. That, Michaels, is the future of the New Templar. Flexibility. Synergy. Your orders.” He held the envelope towards her, and Kate took it, standing. She stood there for a moment.
“I-“
“Dismissed.” Sonnac was already looking over the next document from the pile.
“... Yes, sir.” Kate hesitated for a moment, and left the office. On her way out of Temple Hall, she began to smile.
"Ah. Michaels.” He gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “Please have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?”
Kate made her way to the chair. “No,” she said, taking a seat. She crossed her legs, folding her hands atop her knee. She looked at Sonnac with a grim expression, and he in turn considered her in a brief moment of thoughtful silence.
“It is easy to imagine,” the man said, “that someone in your position might feel hard done by. A year lost. Your reputation tainted-“
“My life invaded,” Kate interrupted. “Being treated like a criminal for daring to show my face in the Hall. My personal freedoms curtailed, my phone tapped, my every step monitored. Guards spitting, actually spitting at me as I pass.”
“You’ve suffered an injustice.”
“Injustice barely covers it.”
“Quite so.” Sonnac steepled his fingers and again considered Kate in a moment of thoughtful quiet. “Change,” he said, getting up from his seat, “is slow.” He walked over to the fireplace on one side of the room, where he stopped and clasped his hands behind his back, looking up at the large oil painting which hung there in its ostentatious gilt frame, an avenging angel brandishing sword and shield. “Especially in an institution as venerable as ours. We have certain… behaviours that have become ingrained. We tend, for instance, to see the world in black and white. Right and wrong. Good. And evil. Sometimes,” Sonnac said, turning from the painting, “things are not quite so simple.” He looks at Kate seriously. “The death of Simon Chambers was regrettable.”
Kate opened her mouth to protest and Sonnac held up a finger for silence. “That is not to say,” he continued, “that it was not deserved. Your late handler was by all accounts a disturbed and disturbing individual. He was no true Templar. Had he lived, however, the course of justice would have run much more smoothly. Do you not think?”
Kate pressed her lips into a line. The man, frustratingly, had a point. Chambers had stalked her. Gone beyond stalking, really. Footage, photographs, sound files, personal items, clothing; his collection had been more than extensive. The man had spent years cataloguing her whole life. When Kate had found out, she'd destroyed the collection in a rigged gas explosion. Unfortunately for her, Chambers had arrived home at exactly the wrong moment and been killed. Kate had been charged with murder and sentenced to service with Temple Hall's suicide squad, the Ordo Obscurus. She'd appealed, but the process had taken more than a year before she had finally been acquitted. If she hadn't reacted as she had, if she'd gone through proper channels, there would have been more than enough evidence to take action against Chambers. Even so. The death had been an accident, and even if it hadn't, if the man hadn't been a Templar then Kate would have been acting within the authority granted her by the Hall.
“I hope,” Kate said, “that you’re not trying to say my time in the Ordo Obscurus was excusable.”
“Not at all. No. But it is important that you understand why you were there.”
“I was there because Inquisitors would make shitty police officers.”
Sonnac barked a laugh, then after a moment cleared his throat. “The Inquisition is a fine body of men and women, doing good work in difficult circumstances.” There was the sense that he could have been reading from a card. Kate arched an eyebrow at him and, just for the briefest moment, he looked uncomfortable. Half-turning back to the painting, he beckoned to her. “Come. Tell me what you see.”
Kate stood and walked to join Sonnac by the fireplace. She crossed her arms and looked up at the angel, its sword held as if to strike. She frowned and tilted her head a little. The angel’s shield bore a cross, representing the Templar Order. “I see a very old organisation that believes itself pure. That it can do no wrong. I also see that this organisation is surrounded by a lot of dead bodies. Presumably they were evil, while the angel is good. But like you said, the world is not that simple.”
Sonnac smiled at Kate, evidently pleased. “You have a good eye, Michaels. No, you’re right. No one is entirely one thing or the other. Not even our angelic friend here.” He looked at the painting and frowned. “Indeed, it is not unknown for angels to be capable of great evil. Everyone needs a way to...” He thought for a moment or two, searching for the right term. Looking at Kate, he smiled slightly, without humour. “To stay honest.”
Kate looked at Sonnac with a slight frown, not entirely sure what he was getting at. “Sir-“
“Your conviction has been overturned, Michaels, and your rank and privilege restored. You are once again to be attached to our intelligence section as a field agent.” Sonnac crossed back to his desk and sat, picking up a sealed envelope from on top of a stack of papers. Blinking, Kate followed him back to the desk and resumed her seat.
“Sir-“
“I’m assigning you to Knight Captain Havelock for now. Assist her in her endeavours. You will of course have access to all the resources you enjoyed before your annus horribilis. Use them wisely.”
“Cass? But she-“
“Isn’t intelligence, no. But you seem to work well together and I think that we should make use of the synergy that is possible when the disparate sections of the Order cooperate. That, Michaels, is the future of the New Templar. Flexibility. Synergy. Your orders.” He held the envelope towards her, and Kate took it, standing. She stood there for a moment.
“I-“
“Dismissed.” Sonnac was already looking over the next document from the pile.
“... Yes, sir.” Kate hesitated for a moment, and left the office. On her way out of Temple Hall, she began to smile.