A written message from a member of the Rebels:
There's this story of a young soldier boy, whose life was filled with war and vengeance much too early and much too soon. It was a story passed down from our organization, told to use every night before bed as we would sleep together under the makeshifts of our home.
A boy stood still on the platform of a battlefield, leveraged against the corpses of his enemies as he looks down into the crumbled society below him. He wipes the dirt and sweats off his skin as he feels the heavy slump of his shoulders. The large weapon in his hands drops and clatters against the ground, splashing the small pool of blood beneath him. The weight of his actions weighs against him as he continues to watch the sunset idly before a blood-curdling scream of pure desperation echoes to the heavens.
We were told that we ourselves were that boy, forced to watch our homes become destroyed at the hands of our now passed enemies. The heaviness on his shoulders is the weight of revenge we must carry, the blood on the ground is the blood spilled from our family members, and the echo of the screams are our desperate cries for help as we acknowledge that not even the gods will come to save us.
And they were right, at the end of the day, no one would save us...
except ourselves.
-
A thick booted shoe collided with a dead body, the impact followed by a heavy grunt from a deep masculine voice. An old man, Jones, somewhat in his thirties stood over the corpse of the previous owner of the bakery, combing his fingers through his sweaty pushed-back black hair. He was dressed in Aparian officer attire and was stood next to women wearing the same.
"Yep," he forced, hands-on-hips as he leans forward, "as dead as a stone. It's like he made out with medusa or something."
His partner, Samantharine, or Samantha for short, rolled her hazelnut eyes, a habit of hers whenever he did something remarkable stupid, "because the noticeable pool of the victim's blood didn't already make that part obvious?"
He laughed at her spiteful attitude, "Sometimes you just gotta make sure. Nowadays these people are masters at faking their own deaths. I've had much too many cases to count where our suspects pretend they're dead and make a run for it right when we have our backs turned."
Samantha scrunched up her face in clear disgust, "I fail to find your amusement in the idea of one taunting death himself."
She pushed Jones to the side and leaned forward over the baker's limp body, pushing his head to the right, which revealed a nasty cut wound on his neck. She pressed her gloved thumb against it gently, seeing how most of the blood loss stopped due to clotting.
"Judging from the others report that wound is the only current injury on his body," Jones recalled, hand-stuffed inside the pocket of his jeans.
"It appears he was stabbed by a sword," she observed, "about three inches wide around the tip and twenty inches long."
"Bloody heaven, who carries a sword on them in broad daylight? Knifes out of style or something?" he laughed, head lolling back a bit.
Ignoring him she continued, "Poison was also found in our victim's blood system, a small dosage, however. It seems to have been some version of the Strychnos nux-vomica, a type of plant that paralyzes and causes respiratory difficulties. Could be our killer was striving for something swift and silent, not too attention-grabbing that would leave them enough time to get away."
Jones rubbed his stubble, "What part of the empire is Strychnos typically found in?"
"It's most common in the northeastern part of Gaean, near the Efflorian region. Sometimes it's used as an analeptic so it's not that hard to obtain. I've been told they hand out stuff like this like it's candy."
Jones sighed in frustration, beginning to consider the prospects of this murder case. If the poison truly did come from the Efflore kingdom then this could be some sort of declaration of war against the Aparians, which could lead to something civil and way out of their hands. Or this could be some sort of fraud meant to strike conflict between the kingdoms by framing one another.
"So there's a high chance our suspect was an Efflorian then. Where there any witnesses around?"
"The corpse was found by the wife of the manager, who was upstairs resting at the approximate time of death, two hours after. She said when she woke a strange smell drew her attention and that's when she spotted her husband. Other than that there was no one else present at the time."
Samantha had stood up, removing her gloves, and discarded them in a nearby bin, "But there's more." She was pointing toward the cake that still laid in the box, frosting not even altered in the slightest. "Whoever did this wanted to get our attention, and this was their best idea yet."
Jones followed her finger and stood over the cake, a surprised expression etched onto his face, "Is that....an address?"
"They're instructions, discreetly asking for a rendezvous with our Second in Command, Camille, at a rundown warehouse on the edge of the western border. They made it abundantly clear that they want to meet up with her and her alone."
"For a date possibly?" he joked with his voice etched in sarcasm. "Ooh, the lucky lady. Perhaps the time spent away from the department might finally change her attitude once and for all."
His partner crossed her arms, giving him a sketchy look, "If you're trying to imply that finding a lover is going to help solve all of her emotional problems then-"
He cut her off and gave her a hesitant smile, "Sally-"
"It's Samatharine, Jones, 'Sally' is the nickname you gave me when you told me about your imaginary girlfriend when we first met, remember?"
Jones rubbed his nose humbly, "I don't remember actually, and I would like it if you didn't either."
She rolled her eyes with a smile on her face getting lost in the emptiness of their bickering. "Let's get back on track or else we'll find ourselves leaving during nightfall."
She took a deep breath before merging back to her serious self again. "I believe the reason why our perpetrator used a cake instead of a letter was to prevent any chances of leaving any DNA behind. That being said there are no fingerprints on the box other than the managers, so our culprit made good work to not directly touch anything.
"There is also a letter in the man's pocket about the order with a signed signature that ties to a bank account. The address of the letter leads to an establishment far from here, and the only known residence is an old man in his late sixties."
"Isn't that where the old retired Efflore veteran lives? The prestigious one that hates the government?"
She nodded, "Which also means he knows his way around a Lethal. So far he meets the criteria to be the man we're looking for. To be honest he's our only lead so far."
Jones shook his head, "No, that doesn't sound right. My hunch is telling me it's someone much younger than that, perhaps even a woman too."
"Why? Is your female radar going off again or something?" Samatha teased.
"With good reason, I mean just look at the thing!" He referred to the untouched desert still currently standing on the counter, "It's covered with typical feminine decorations and pink frosting, no old man in his sixties would even consider consuming something like this. Old people tend to be very prideful and sexist, especially those that were once apart of the military."
"Maybe the frostings pink because the message was intended to go to a woman as well."
Jones laughed, "Camille hates sweet things, this was out of personal preference, not a lot of thought went into this cake in terms of the receiver."
Samantha stood impressed by her partner, actually deducing a solid base claim, "That would mean the signature copied and the real killer then tried to frame the man."
"It's likely, this could just be a coverup in case they needed a diversion. Perhaps to ensure we won't be arriving at the warehouse before they need us there," He tsked. "Whoever they know damn well how long it takes to get a warrant finalized, especially if it's traveling to the other side of the empire. They're trying to keep us separated so we can't intervene."
Samantha hummed taking out her pocket pen and started writing notes, "Even so we shouldn't put him out of the picture just yet. If he's as old as we let on then he must not leave his residency that often. Perhaps maybe a younger relative of his that lives with him, which would make more sense as to how they were able to so easily get their hands on all of his personal information."
She put the notepad back inside her suit and tucked away her pen, "We'll talk to Chief about this and receive his input on what we should do. It'll be our first murder case in a while, so I'm sure he's excited to boss us around again."
Jones groaned a pissed-off smile on his face "You know he's not going to say no. Chief loves Camille, she's practically his second in command. If it weren't for the age difference he'd marry her I swear."
"Why don't you marry him instead?" Samantha murmured, "maybe then he might suck up to you too."
He cackled, "I do have to settle down someday don't I?"
"If you can handle commitment that is. This time you'll actually have to be there for the girl if you do end up putting a ring on her finger."
"Yeesh Sally, when you put it like that I might have to reconsider."
-
"I see…"
Two hours had passed and they managed to regroup in Camille's private office, granted to her courtesy of Cheifs generosity. She was dressed in even fancier attire, looking as though she was ready to set a ship off in ablaze.
She sat up in her chair and clasped her hands together with her elbows propped up, "And are you sure they only requested to speak to me?"
"Confident ma'am," Samantha confirmed, "the frosting specifically stated they wanted you and you alone to show up."
The woman raised an eyebrow, "What are the consequences if we don't follow up with their orders?"
"If I may, they just murdered someone ma'am," Jones coughed, "I'm sure they're willing to do it again."
"The message was engraved in strawberry frosting, handwriting matched that of the victim," Samantha added, pulling out her notebook. "We've done all we can to search for clues and performed a full DNA swipe of the entire bakery, but we came out with nothing.
Jones looked down and clenched his fist, "Made the innocent lad sign his own death certificate without even realizing it."
Camille stared at the floor a bit, looking up in a glazed thought. When she was able to put together her words she spoke once more, "Did you managed to trace an address from the receipt?"
Jones nodded, "We did, however, the home of the address belongs to a retired veteran, so there's a low chance he's actually the one who did it. Samantha wants us to go investigate there regardless."
"If I may ma'am," Samantha barged in, giving her partner a cold stare, "the signature of the request appeared to be legit. I had a feeling that the real culprit could be a relative of the veteran man, hence why they were able to get access to all that info in the first place."
"Yet you know that this is clearly a trap is it not Samantharine?" Camille asked. "First you will need to establish a warrant, then travel to the opposite side of the Gaean Empire which is very close to where the Efflorians reside. If you make ill with any of their citizens it could spark a war between the already divided kingdoms, and our job is to prevent that."
Samantha flinched and bit her lip, now clenching her own hands. "I acknowledge that ma'am, but even so we shouldn't ignore the fact that up until now almost all of the evidence points to it being an Efflorian responsible. If you're trying to imply that we shouldn't do anything about it merely because it could cause conflict between us and the Efflorians then I simply must-"
"That's not what I was saying. What I'm saying is that this mission needs to be taken more seriously than some casual homicide incident or whatever. We are fighting against someone who is not only devious and smart but also apart of the other half of the Gaean Empire, like trying to provoke us into doing something irreversible. There are great consequences for every action we take, so we must be careful with how we approach everything. Do not let your morals and emotions get in the way of this mission."
Jones couldn't help but notice the sad look in Samantha's eyes, just about ready to laugh and remind her of the stern attitude he was talking about moments ago.
"It's obvious the culprit is trying to separate us," Camille explained. "That's why I'll only be sending the two of you to investigate the suspect."
"What?" Jones exclaimed, "why only two of us? You said it so yourself ma'am, this mission is dangerous. Not only are we traveling for quite some time but we're entering potential enemy territory. If you're acting all soft because you don't want to provoke anyone then I won't stand by it either Camille."
Their superior snorted, eyes closed with a soft smile on her face. "There you go again Jones, forgetting yourself in your frustration and calling me by my first name. There's a reason why I put you two on the same team together. You even each other's attitudes out and create a steady wavelength of risk and respect."
She opened her eyes and gave them both serious expressions, "I'm not sending only you two because I'm scared or hesitant, I'm sending you because I truly believe you are the only one capable of this job. I trust that if you shall meet any problems along the way you will both be fully capable of resolving it with utmost haste."
"With all due respect ma'am," Samatha rose, "I find your judgment risky and incompetent."
Camille laughed, "Regardless of how you feel you don't a choice, so end of discussion."
That was true, they weren't being paid to question orders, they were being paid to do what they were told. After realizing there was no way out even if they tried they both bowed respectfully in acknowledgment.
"Okay ma'am," they said in synchronized harmony, "we'll do our best!"
When they rose Samantha was the first to speak again, "If we're the only ones leaving the estate then what are the rest of the APD going to be working on?"
Camille's eyes opened into a sly grin, "Bold of you to assume You'll be the only one's leaving."
Her nails tighten against her palm with a delicious expression on her face, "Half of the APD will hang back and make sure nothing goes wrong while I'm away. As for the other half, they'll be with me."