Winter, 3067.
"Did you come here to kill me?"
"Come now, Brother Michel. I came as your friend."
"That is not what I asked you." Despite his trembling hands, there was still a touch of defiance in his old, tired eyes as he poured himself another shot of arak. The noise from the dusty street below made a conversation of whispers difficult.
"It is the answer to your question." Bernard Reno smiled. "How could I possibly kill an old friend of my father's?"
Michel's eyes were downcast. "Because this old friend of yours has betrayed the cause, Brother Bernard."
"Tell me about it."
"Do you swear on Blake's heart that you did not come here to kill me?"
"I do solemnly swear, Brother Michel." Reno said. "When one utters an oath and invokes our blessed founder's name, he is duty-bound to follow it until death."
"And so it is." Michel Gans smiled meekly. "But one wonders if even ROM agents would abide by that oath."
"You know we do. No exceptions. Now tell me, what became of the will?"
"I had it formatted into a datadisk."
"What became of the datadisk?"
"I entrusted it to Mr. Davos, you remember him don't you?" Michel sighed. "The merchant who dabbles in antiquities. I entrusted the will to him so that he may find a way to have it published for the good of all humanity."
"Yes I remember him, the one you introduced to me so many years ago, when I was but a lowly Acolyte in the order."
"That is he. I'm glad you still remember that." Michel's smile grew larger. "You considered me your mentor back then. You were so young, so eager." He reminisced.
"Then it must pain you to know that Davos was an informant for the Maskirovka." Reno said.
"What? That is impossible!" Michel's grin turned to shock. "I have known him for decades. Longer than your own parents."
"It was confirmed only several months ago. He was very good about his cover but ROM is ever vigilant and we ultimately found out about it. He confessed after we tore one of his eyes out."
Michel covered his face with his hands. The bare walls of the little room seemed to hem him in more than ever now. "Oh blessed Blake, forgive me." He cried.
"You have compromised our very existence by transporting the heresy to a foreign power that could very well discredit us." Reno's voice was cold, like a judge reading the last rights to the condemned. "The damage you have done is nearly irreparable."
"B-but I did it for the noblest of reasons." Tears streamed down Michel's eyes. "Is it so wrong to wish for peace among mankind?"
"It is our blessed order which will bring peace to mankind, you should have known that. As a former Precentor, your actions are inexcusable." Reno said. "If the task was entrusted to anyone but me, they would have killed you in the most painful way imaginable."
"I realize that." Michel's voice was strained. "ROM has been very kind to me. They sent an old friend who has known me for many years to teach me the error of my ways. For that I am grateful."
Reno smiled as he rested his hand on his former mentor's shoulder. "Fear not. I have given an oath not to kill you, and I won't." He said as he poured more arak onto his old friend's shot glass. The strong, pungent spirit was distilled from an age-old winery in Earth's Levantine region; with a scent of aniseed and licorice, it was a potent drink but one that the old man loved to quaff down with meals.
"I would like to thank you for this gift." The old man pointed to the long necked, emerald-colored bottle of arak. "This was a favorite drink of mine and your father's as well."
"You realize of course that we cannot let this sin go unpunished." Reno said as a matter of fact.
"Yes. Go and render your judgment."
"Permanent exile." Reno said. "You are to leave the Inner-Sphere forever and reside in the Deep Periphery for the rest of your natural life. No brother will speak to you nor will you be offered food and water in any of the worlds that we control. If you are seen consorting with the enemy then your throat will be cut and your carcass fed to the dogs. May Blake curse your soul upon your death."
"By Blake's true words, I accept." Michel sighed as he quaffed another shot of the fiery liquid.
As Reno turned and walked away, the old man was about to thank him but decided that a silent goodbye was more appropriate. He had nothing but good intentions but now it seemed that the world was turned upside down. He accepted his punishment and would live as a pariah for the rest of his days. A part of him thanked Blake's mercy for not letting him die a terrible death for the unpardonable crime he had committed.
When Bernard Reno finally left the old man's room and walked down the dingy stairs to the dusty streets of the town, he took off the filters that he had inserted in his nostrils to protect him from the fumes of the arak. Earlier that day, he hired an old Turk to infuse the bottle of Michel's favorite drink with Datura. It would be a few hours before the old man noticed anything. By then the poison of the Datura would have seeped into his brain and if he were lucky, he would still be able to hold his bowels because people who were exposed to Datura suffered permanent brain damage and would need a wet nurse in order for them not to make a mess on the floor, at the very least.
He had kept his oath to Blake. If only the traitor realized the true extent of his punishment, death would have been more forgiving.
