Castle McCarron
Altorra
Sian Commonality
Capellan Confederation
3 February, 3150
Catherine lay back in the chair, letting herself settle into the soft leather and closing her eyes. She focused on the sound of the fire in the fireplace crackling. Damn she felt old. The chill that had been a constant at the castle for it's almost one hundred years of existence caught up with her more now than it ever had before. Her senses were still sharp, but they told her of the annoyances that came with age, where she had once tuned them out. As she focused on the fire, she could almost convince herself of it's warming embrace, and that was enough to fight back the chill.
As she sat, she heard the gentle rustling of fabric and the soft press of feet against the bare stone that made up so much of the floor of the castle. The sounds stopped as they reached the entrance to the study where she sat. For several minutes, she heard no sound but the crackling of the fire and the muffled howls of the outside wind. Then the sounds resumed, only this time, beginning to head away from her.
"You walked all the way down here for a reason, child. Do not let one old woman taking a cat nap discourage you."
The sounds stopped, though Catherine's eyes remained closed. "I'm sorry, Aunt Cat. I didn't know you were down here, or I'd have not disturbed you. I was just looking for a place to think for a few minutes."
Catherine sat up straight and opened her eyes. "You can think just as well with me sitting here, Temperance McCarron, as not. I would have thought you asleep by now, you only just landed today." She watched Temperance as she made her way over to the cupboard. The younger woman wore a soft brown robe, embroidered with gold accents, which matched the warmth of her flowing deep red hair.
"Scotch, Auntie?" she asked Catherine as she poured herself a drink. Cat merely nodded and let a slight hint of a smile reach the corner of her mouth. If I had a C-bill for every glass of Scotch I've had in this study.... Temperance made her way over to Catherine and handed her a heavy glass of deep amber liquid before taking a seat across from her.
"So what is it that you are pondering at this hour, child?" Catherine asked. In years past, Temperance would have bristled at Cat's referring to her as a child. As silly as the application of the term was, with Temperance now entering her forties, with a little bit of aging on her own part she had come to pay a little more deference to Catherine's age of late.
She passed a sheet of paper over to Cat, who began scanning it's contents as Temperance spoke. "I've had people keeping a quiet ear open for word of Freyja since she left. News doesn't flow the same way as it did before the blackout, but between my contacts and old connections of Marcus', I figured I could keep a decent net out for word of what she was up to."
Catherine bristled at the mention of the name of the father of Temperance's children. "You would have a far greater net if those Republic bastards had not locked themselves up inside their damnable Fortress walls. Cowards way out." She watched for any sign of response from Temperance, but found none in the other woman's expression. She continued to scan the document in her hand. "You know Freyja would be staring those icy cold daggers at you if she knew you were keeping watch over her."
Temperance frowned and took a drink. "I only wish I were watching over her. No, she struck out on her own, for the worse, as it would seem."
Catherine raised an eyebrow quizzically until she spotted the final lines of the summary. She glanced up at Temperance, whose eyes showed a mixture of worry and anguish. "A slave market? She barely got off her feet before this happened. I suppose barbarity is not limited to the core of the Inner Sphere." The paper was a report, which ended with a summary information that consisted of the noting of the name "Freyja McCarron" appearing in a data grab that included various advertising, and the name of the system in the Periphery where reports indicated a transaction was likely made.
"That information is over 9 months old. What am I even supposed to do?" Temperance asked.
Cat put the paper down. "You cannot blame yourself for what happened to her. She knew the risks she was undertaking."
Temperance ran a hand through her hair. "I don't blame myself Auntie. But I'm still her mother, I still have that urge to protect her. I know you probably don't understand the whole parent thing, but it's very real."
Catherine closed her eyes. "Faith had already given birth to Acadia by the time I met her, you know. She and I spent much of that time on our crazy adventures, and with that, Acadia spent most of her early years with her father. But once she started to get older, and it became clear she wanted to be a mechwarrior, she spent more and more time with Faith and me. I still had a lot of hangups from my sibko days back then. But even with that, spending time with her, helping raise and train her, seeing her become a woman and a warrior.....I have often thought that is what it must have been like to feel like a mother. The sense of pride when she succeeded. The loss when she died. Not worse than losing Faith, but very....different. So I do understand, Temperance. I do."
Temperance rubbed her temples. "Part of me wants to pack up and haul ass to the Periphery and tear them to shreds till I find her. But a tiny part of me says I have to let her live her life, to have.....faith in her. There's that word again. It always comes back to Faith with her. You said so many times that she was the most like Faith of any of us. I don't know if that's good or bad."
Catherine smiled. "That was always the trick with Faith as well, you never knew if it was good or bad."
Temperance leaned forward. "I don't think you've ever really talked about her to me."
Catherine sat back and looked away into the fire. Temperance took another drink.
"I'm sorry, I know you were close to her."
Catherine kept her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. "I do not think even she and I ever really understood what we were to each other. It may sound strange, but sibkin is the word that most often comes to mind. We were like sisters in battle, like lovers in the aftermath. She could be coldly resolved one moment, drowning in drugs the next, and come back at the end of it all with enough passion to ignite your soul."
There was a long silence before Temperance spoke. "What do I do, Auntie?"
Catherine turned from the fire. "You go after her. But do not be surprised if you find you are not riding to her rescue. Go find her because you both probably need it. And be ready to be surprised, of that, I have all the faith in the world."
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