No matter where you go, there you are...
The Sound Of Silence
You see them surprisingly often, out in the Deep Periphery, often on worlds where the ability to read, write and do complex maths are considered luxuries. Just look around for the man or woman dressed in a simple charcoal grey tunic and black trousers, often standing behind and to one side of someone of great power and authority, by local standards, at least. That's them: the Silent Order.
They're not all silent, obviously: would be pretty hard to do their jobs if they were. No, Novices, the lowest rank made up of initiates who haven't taken their vows yet, hand any verbal communications needed, and it's not uncommon to see at least one Novice acting as an intermediary for a senior member of the Order.
But, I hear you ask, who exactly are the Silent Order? And what makes them so special?
Well, leaving aside the fact that they don't talk, they seem to be everywhere. Nobody seems to be exactly sure where their base or homeworld is, or even if they have one, but they're certainly spread out across hundreds of light years of the spinward Periphery, just out past JàrnFòlk territory. Settled worlds are far more common than most people even in the close Periphery might think, but, for the most part, they do tend to fall into the stereotypical 'scratching a living off of a barely habitable rock' type. These are the kind of thing places where it's often considered more important to pass on practical, survival based skills over more cerebral endeavours. But, the people living out there are still smart enough to know that someone has to keep the records, know how to fix or maintain, to them, irreplaceable technologies.
And that is where the Silent Order comes in: they can read and write, often in several languages, do more complicated maths. Some members can provide medical services beyond shaking bones and applying leaches (and yeah, I've been to worlds where they actually do that), provide architectural services, perform geological surveys and run machine-shops and garages. All for nothing more than room and board.
Oh, and a complete dependence upon them for these services.
So, that's where they have you by the balls, because suddenly, they're the only ones who can read your law books, can interpret some ancient encyclopedia or almanac, work some piece of machinery that your entire settlement is dependant on. So, I hear you asking, this is how they exercise control over these worlds? Playing the Grand Vizier? The true power behind the throne?
Well, no. Or, at least, not so overtly.
Let me try and explain it from a different angle here. There's a planet, two jumps out from Hofn, called Chattooga, although God only knows why. Odd name aside, Chattooga is actually a pretty decent place to live. The colony was originally founded back during the glory days of the Star League, but the people who founded it were smart. See, pretty much everyone else who was settling worlds out in the Deep Periphery back then took it for granted that the Star League was eternal, that they'd always be able to send for anything they needed and couldn't produce locally. Why ruin your worlds idealistic environment with heavy industry and all that comes with it, when you can just have the finished products delivered by DropShip?
Well, the people behind Chattooga weren't that gullible. I'm not saying that they saw the fall of the Star League and all the shit that followed coming, but they certainly saw the value in being able to support a certain standard of living through purely domestic means. And they didn't just bring flashy new tech with them. No, they brought everything you needed to build the tools that you needed to build the tools that you used to make the machinery that made that new equipment. Everything from a coal powered forge to a microchip factory was shipped out to Chattooga and assembled by a population who saw the value in ensuring that their childrens children's children would be able to keep everything working.
Oh, and weapons. Like, a crazy amount of weapons. Everything from bows and swords up to a battalion of BattleMechs, complete with all the means to maintain, repair or rearm them. Pirates visit Chattooga, but they do so under a Flag of truce, to trade openly to in keeping with the local laws. Chattooga may not be looking to build an empire, but they're experts in what the Davion's like to call 'soft power'. Being the only place for three hundred light-years that can manufacture most things does that for a world. It's not anything like the kind of developed world you'd find in the Inner Sphere, but it's certainly on a par with anything you'd see in the bigger Periphery states.
Even the Silent Order treads softly around Chattooga.
And that's how I had my first real encounter with the Silent Orders. I was with a unit that was contracted by Interstellar Expeditions to escorts some office drone, Eilerson, who needed to go out and finalise an agreement with... look, some of the people IE do business with aren't exactly on the side of the angles, okay? That far out, you need to be willing to get your hands dirty if you want to get anything done. Sometimes that means shaking hands and making nice with scum. And I say that as someone who was rejected by the MRCB, which should give you some idea of the kinds of people you have to rub shoulders with that far out.
Fortunately, we shipped out with the JàrnFòlk, so we didn't have to worry about being killed in our sleep and our bodies dumped out the airlock. I really like the Fòlk; they're people of their word, and if they do try and kill you, it'll be face to face, and you'll be in a position to defend yourself. But, you get on their good side, something I was very careful to do, they'll have your back, come what may. And if they've given you their word that they'll transport you to a destination, they'll do everything in their power to get you there, safe and sound.
Anyway, we reached Chattooga without incident, thankfully, and spent a couple of days keeping Eilerson out of trouble before our contacts in the Silent Order arrived. We went down to the docks to meet their ship, some beefed-up Overlord variant I'd never seen before. Much to my surprise, the ship was completely free of any markings of any kind. Wasn't even painted, but rather bare metal, with just carbon scoring from numerous re-entries. Even more surprising was the fact that they'd somehow gotten permission from the locals to deploy a pair of BattleMechs to stand sentry. And these were ugly looking buggers, I tell you: looked like someone had taken the basic frame of a Hunchback, taken off the head, arms and autocannon housing, and replaced them with the head, arms and back-mounted jump-jets from a older model Phoenix Hawk. And like the DropShip, they were bare, unpainted metal
Didn't look patchwork, but they didn't look like anything that's stepped off any production line I've ever heard of.
Two figures emerged next, an older looking man with close cropped grey hair, and a much younger woman with shoulder length honey y-blood locks that looked to have one hell of a body underneath her tunic. I mentally cursed the fact that the Silent Order are also known for taking vows of chastity, as I would have very much liked the opportunity to get to know her better. It soon became obvious that she was the Novice tasked with acting as the voice of her superior, and, well that's something you really have to see for yourself. In similar situations in the Inner Sphere, you'd expect the man to use some kind of sign language to communicate with her, but they seemed to be able to hold entire conversations, including some very complex concepts, with just a look and some very stubble body language.
It was impressive, in a way.
The Silent Order had agreed to act as an independent intermediary between Interstellar Expeditions and the, shall we say, independent party, they were trying to make a deal with. Apparently they'd stumbled across what looked to be an old SLDF bunker complex, but it had withstood all their attempts to breach it, so they'd reached out to IE to make a deal. Needles to say, our employer was more than interested in finding out what might be inside, but mounting a full expedition so far out required assurances that they wouldn't be walking into a trap, which in turn meant bring in the Silent Order, who even the other party was respectful of.
Fortunately, I didn't have to sit in on all of the negotiations: IE consider Chattooga a relatively 'safe' world, meaning that two guards are deemed acceptable most of the time. Which was nice, as I had a chance to stretch my legs after months in transit and do some exploring of my own.
Okay, so here comes the travelogue part.
Now, a lot of plants go with something unoriginal for the name of their capital: 'Landing', 'Firstdown' or 'Planet Name City', because apparently humanity left our imagination back on Terra. Chattooga instead went with Roanoke, which nestles at the foot of the aptly named Blue Ridge Mountains. Outside of the more built-up business and administrative districts, it's a city of long, wide streets with low buildings and plentiful public spaces. I was able to spend a few pleasant afternoons wandering local shops, sampling a few bars. And yes, later in the evening I completed my tour by hitting up several of the brothels around the spaceport.
Like I said: months in transit, and the JàrnFòlk are somewhat, reserved, about who they share their bunks with.
A man has needs, is what I'm saying.
Anyways, we reach the end of the negotiations: Eilerson and our contacts seem happy, the Silent Order seem... silent, and we head back to the Inner Sphere.
All done with, right?
No. Couple of months later, and I hear from a contact within IE that the expedition was lost without a trace, the people they were working alongside too. The JàrnFòlk agreed to go looking for them, but found nothing but a base camp that looked like the team had just stepped out for lunch, leaving all their equipment and personnel effects behind. IE declared it a total loss and paid out on the life insurance policies.
Ten years go by, and I find myself back on Chattooga for, well, I had my reasons. I was making my way down a side street, and I see a couple of members of the Silent Order across the road. I did a quick double-take, stopping dead in my tracks, because there, showing no sign that they recognised me, were Eilerson and the leader of the pirates he'd been negotiating with. Both dressed as members of the Silent Order, neither one saying a word...
The End
