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THE HONOURABLE GABRIEL RETCHET
It began deep in the Lowland of Rindlebrooke, as the locals liked to call it, where was collected Raven Hersh and her dangerous Sons of the Dead, along with Gabriel Retchet, known colloquially as the Emissary.
Retchet was often sent in as a last ditch attempt before Raven and her men finished the job - which usually meant a vicious and bloody death. And no one wanted that, especially not the victims.
"I don't know why you just don't let me get in there and kill them all?” said Raven Hersh, itching to get inside. They were a hundred yards or so from the residence - inside, a disgruntled Engineer was holding his family captive. Raven huffed once or twice, scratching her scalp in anticipation.
"That wouldn't be a profitable use of manpower, would it?" Gabriel Retchet, however, was the epitome of calm.
"It would save me and my Sons of the Dead from standing out here, like spare parts for the Factory." Raven was mainly bluster at this point. Gabriel had dealt with her many times and was used to her sudden outbursts.
"Patience is a virtue, Raven. Perhaps you should learn it."
"Perhaps you should -"
Gabriel cut her off with a withering look. There was still such a thing as order, and Gabriel was higher in it than Raven. Gabriel put a finger to his lips, "Before we say anything we may regret?"
"Well - hurry up then." said Raven, in a resigned tone.
"If the negotiation does indeed fail, then I would very much wish the use of your very skilled men in extricating me from the situation." assured Gabriel.
"I still think a bolt through the eye, it would solve everything."
"And spread panic and distrust? It would likely start a riot, Raven. Diplomacy first. Bloody death second. Okay?"
"I suppose so." muttered Raven Hersh, in response.
#
Retchet stood at the door to the residence, but did not knock. He called out instead, "Mr Kep? My name is Gabriel Retchet. I think you know me, if not by face, then by reputation. Will you allow me to enter?"
Silence.
"Mr Kep? I must insist. You do have other people in there with you, do you not? If that is true and you do not open the door, I cannot guarantee their safety."
Scrapes, clunks, chains rattling and quiet cursing could be heard now. Eventually the door opened. The man who did so was rough looking. He had obviously not slept, hadn't eaten nor had he the requisite full set of marbles. He gestured for Gabriel to hurry on inside. After Gabriel did, the man shut the door behind him and reinserted chains and the like to re-secure the door.
He held an instrument Gabriel recognised as a Joining Tool, used in the manufacture of Machines. Gabriel looked around the disrupted home, where objects had been strewn hither and thus, broken and trampled - but there was no sign of the other people.
"Where are the others, Mr Kep?" Gabriel's tone was continually measured - so neutral that if it was a country it would be the one holding all the treasures.
"They're through there," he pointed to a door, "Safe. I don't know why I did it! Something went wrong. Something snapped, and next thing I knew, they were in there, under guard -"
"There's more than you holding them captive?" This was new information to Gabriel. He didn't like last minute information. His improvisational skills were very much missing.
Kep waved the Joining Tool about carelessly, "Oh, not a person. A Machine. My latest invention, in fact." Kep's manner changed from fear to pride, suddenly, "Fires three times faster than previous models! Goes faster, too! It's more fuel efficient -" Gabriel cut him off mid-flow.
"Is this Machine safe?"
"Very much so! Well - I think so. Should be? Should be," Kep became momentarily distracted by a thought.
"Mr Kep, if you can focus - what particular grievance do you have with your employers?"
"Oh, this is nothing to do with them! Oh no! No, this is to do with me."
"How so?" asked Gabriel, as he wiped clean a chair and sat on it.
Kep joined him, pulling another chair to face his. Kep was more animated, however, "It's about making a name for myself."
"Well, you're certainly doing that."
"But about Engineering. See, I need a purpose in life. I need - I want to do the right thing. I want -"
"Seems you want much, Mr Kep. But why go about it like this?"
"Because they were taking my inventions from me, claiming creation themselves!"
"But, Mr Kep, all work is property of Rindlebrooke. No one Engineer is given signature rights over anyone else. It is a rule -"
"But it's my work! My hard work! Okay, I know I made mistakes, I know one or two of my fellows were killed by a rogue Machine of mine, but that was an accident! I pay for that every day - literally. I pay their families compensation for loss of earnings. I can barely feed my family -"
"And so you hold them hostage? It is still not making sense to me, Mr Kep?" insisted Gabriel.
"I - I don't remember now. But there was a reason, I promise you! There was, and it was noble, trust me! Just, I don't remember what it was."
"And the Machine?"
Kep stood suddenly, brandishing his Joining Tool. Gabriel, however, showed no sign he had even noticed. He had not flinched, yelped or called out in fear. He remained motionless and calm, "They were going to take my Machine away from me! I couldn't take it again! They were going to move it to the Testing Grounds before they deployed it in the War! It is too precious to lose, can't you see that?"
"I can Mr Kep. I can."
"See, I just want to make things? I want to discover, invent and make new and better Machines, so Rindlebrooke can win the War. I want my name to mean something, out there, in the wider world. I know I made mistakes. I know I failed, when I should have succeeded. I know I was driven to this situation - and I could have prevented it. But please give me another chance? One more chance, to prove my worth? I only want to do the right thing?"
Gabriel stood and smiled. He patted Kep on the arm in camaraderie, followed with a look of solidarity, "Mr Kep, I know exactly what you mean. Do you trust me? Good. You should. I will make it a personal mission of mine to ensure they understand your value. Mr Kep, you have me as a friend, as a confederate - as a champion for your cause. If you will excuse me?" Gabriel strode confidently to the door and waited for Kep to unchain the door and let him leave. The look on Gabriel's face remained until he came to Raven Hersh's hidden position, some way from the residence of Mr Kep and family.
"Your turn, Raven dear." waved Gabriel Retchet, all pretence dropping from his face, returning to the blank expression that had become Gabriel's trademark. He didn't even watch as the Sons of the Dead waded in to the Kep residence, all guns blazing.
See, nothing really bothered Gabriel Retchet, the Emissary, when it really came down to it. Nothing at all. Certainly not violence.
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