by K A Carter
“All rise,” the armed bailiff said. “Court proceedings are now in session. May the court acknowledge now, Chief Magistrate Verdi, Vice Magistrate Corlo, Magistrate Vaughn, Magistrate Os, Magistrate Merkante, Magiatrate Neir, Magistrate Hitaka, and Magistrate Jhonsburg. The court may be seat.”
Each magistrate sat as their names were called. Nario kept to stand, something in him told him it was the better thing to do. He didn’t want to sit. Not here.
Without looking up from her datatablet, Magistrate Verdi said. “You may be seated Mr. Dios-Lobin.”
“I’d prefer to stand, your honor.”
“Preference is not a facet of this court, Mr. Lobin. Please be seated.”
Nario sat, his overall anger somehow sitting down with him. He knew it wouldn’t do him any good. That much of his training wasn’t going anywhere. For now, he sat quiet; trying to quell the scenarios that kept playing in his head of the outcomes he was to face. So far, none of them good.
“You have been charged with insubordination, sedition and incitement of war, and unlawful possession of government property. What is your plea?”
Unlawful possession. What a load of shit, thought Nario. It was obvious they through that in there for kicks. “Not guilty,” Nario responded.
“Very well,”
Verdi didn’t look up at all. Her eyes paced down at whatever she was reading on the datatablet.
“Mr Lobin, this report essentially proclaims that you knowingly defied a direct order in accordance with Federal protocol. You have also placed the lives of fellow crewmates in jeopardy without senior direction. You are reported to have met with multiple corporate figureheads some who are currently on the sedition order. Even to go as far as a meeting with Olenna Vacura, a CPF Blacklisted individual. By testimony, you have been reported to have met with the outlaw mercenary leader Rowland Antares. You have also engaged in battle in a federally chartered ship, in alliance with xeno-operated governments. Mr. Lobin are you aware that you have broken both civilian and citizen laws?”
“I am, your honor.”
She finally looked up, and back down again. “The penalty for these offenses Mr. Dios-Lobin, is death.”
Nario took a big gulp. It wasn’t that he didn’t expect her to say it. It still brought a tone to his ears he never thought he’d hear coming from a magistrate. He wanted to speak, say anything. By now, he was formulating some sort of response.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself Mr. Dios Lobin?” Out of the quietness, Magistrate Corlo spoke. Her tone was light and didn’t sound judgmental.
Nario slowly cleared his throat. “I have served in the Cooperative Planet Federal Navy for over thirty years. I am proud to have done so, it had been a dream since I was a young kid. It was only recently that an imminent threat came to my attention. It may be hard to believe your honor, but a war is at our doorsteps whether we like it or not. I was tasked with developing the first diplomatic communications with other species on a governmental basis. The first of its kind. As a result, I may have used unorthodox methods in order to continue those talks. I know and understand that I have defied standard law. I did it for the good of our federation. There wasn’t one decision I made, that I didn’t consider the repercussions and still make that choice based off of the need to protect our species.”
“This includes colluding with a known mercenary leader and enemy of the state?” Magistrate Vaughn interrupted.
“Yes,” Nario started. “Rowland Antares held vital intel on Orcus operations outside of CPF space. It was prudent that I obtained if I were to stop them.”
“What intel did you obtain?”
“That Orcus is the reason we are in the war. Orcus is truly enemies of the state. It took going to her to find out the true nature of their expansions. I hadn’t known it prior to meeting DoO Vacura.”
“Be that as it may, there has to be a penalty for your lack of abidance with federal law,” Magistrate Verdi was staring straight at him. She didn’t blink once. A stare that carried until she looked over to her colleagues.
“I believe that is all we need to hear,” Magistrate Vaughn said.
There was a pause for a moment. Chatter ensued while the magistrates deliberated. Nario scanned the room. Hoping to see any familiar faces. Those who, even if he heard bad news, would stand behind him. He didn’t see any of them. No Rhion. No Corrinne. No idea where they were now.
Magistrate Verdi raised her hand, a silence fell over the court room almost instantly.
“Mr. Dios-Lobin,” she started, slowly. “We understand your viewpoints, and genuinely believe that you were acting in the interest of the federation. However, this does not negate the laws broken and therefore, the accountability that must be held to the responsible parties. As senior officer aboard the Venture you hold the responsibility for the actions of your crew. The information that you have brought to our attention will be assessed once brought to a review board. Though the penalty for these crimes is death, we are disregarding that rule.”
Nario had a frown and it almost faded hearing that he was staying alive. He tried to display nothing other than a blank stare.
“Given your substantial federal service, magistrate board rules in favor of the federal claims with the penalty of life at the penal facility Abraxim on Mercury.”
Nario’s eyes widened. His life was no longer. It wasn’t hitting him just yet. It would sooner or later. He was a prisoner from this point on.
Chapter 47: S’tiri
Death is not a concept S’tiri struggled with often. Only a few instances came to mind while he lay bleeding. Over the course of his time spent in the U’naan. Something about it never hit him so hard. Now it did, but it was subtle, peaceful even. From the cold eerie mass that cracked beneath him. As far as he was concerned, he was already falling. He didn’t feel the pain so much anymore.
No one else was alive from what he could tell. He listened for anything that would prove otherwise. S’tiri used the last of his might to push himself up. It fell like the purest agony. No amount of injections or indoctrination techniques could compare to what he felt all over his body. Out of the broken shards that fell he could see clear sky. Silver ships ascended into arid skies. What was left of his mercenary army was fleeing. Rightfully so.
S’tiri could barely feel his legs beneath him. Only by the intense vibrations did he manage a stumble toward the exit. It was an empty, destroyed hangar that no longer had any functioning ships in it. What was left were merely bits and pieces. Toward the far end of the hangar, earth broke apart. Visible heat spewed in gaseous form.
S’tiri took the opposite way, hanging on to whatever would keep him from falling down. He was shocked at how well he was doing on uneven ground.
A small riff grew. A part of the planet that cracked up and left a wide enough gap that couldn’t be jumped over even if he wasn’t carrying a stab wound and pain in other places. It felt like this was where it was supposed to end. Overlooking a chasm. Empty darkness fell further down. So far that even the core wasn’t visible quite yet. S’tiri would’ve hoped to see it. That way if he were to end it by jumping, he knew it wouldn’t last for too long.
He leaned back on rubble. Sharp broken pieces of wall that crumpled up together. S’tiri gazed up one last time, a gleam shuttered at the center of the bright sun. It glistened deeper until it hovered like the bright sun next to it.
S’tiri squinted through pain as a shadow casted on him, a gust that was pleasantly gentle whistled as his eyes closed. He embraced the peace and let go of his wound.
∆∆∆
There was a beep… Or was there. Another rang close to his ears again with a reverb that carried until it faded away completely. A soft voice came from his side.
“He’s awake,” it said.
S’tiri opened his eyes and looked around, only blurry black shadows amidst a white glow motioned around. It didn’t go away.
“Hey easy guy,” another person said. “You should be dead.�
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S’tiri grunted, the pain was barely there, but mobility in any of his limbs was almost impossible.
“Can you move?” the soft voice said.
S’tiri didn’t respond.
“He ain’t talkin’. Shit Mellor, how much of a sedative did you give him?”
“I don’t know, I just shot him up with what was in the xeno cabinet. Not a real doctor, remember?”
S’tiri waved heavy eyes, hoping his vision would clear. A body closest to his bedside stood near motionless, with a clear expression. Finally, he could see features that immediately showed someone who’d seen terror. Staring back at him was a young but scarred girl. Her eyes a bright gold he had almost felt to be familiar.
“Easy,” she said, as S’tiri attempted to move himself. “You are severely injured.”
S’tiri felt a wave over his body that acted as a numbing calm, dissipating and returning at its own whim, the definitive devastation of bruises and injuries that his body had. “Where am I?”
“My name is Araime,” the girl said. “You’re aboard our ship. The Icarus.”
S’tiri glanced around the room. Small human beings were scattered around the medbay. Medical beds lined both sides each a flat protrusion that hung in place. Firm pads hugged the tops. All identical to the one S’tiri lay on. His legs just barely keeping from floating over the edge of the medical bed. As he looked to his left, the doors opened. A man entered, swiftly strutting to the side of the bed. His hands visibly scarred. It was the first thing S’tiri noticed.
“Glad you’re awake.” The man said. He nodded toward the taller one by the door. Slowly one by one everyone left. The young girl, Araime, stayed. Only until the man nudged at her. “It’s alright.” He said.
It was only now that S’tiri recognized who it was.
“You are the one that I gave the crystal.”
The man nodded with a gentle smile. “Jericho.”
S’tiri grunted in pain as the medication leveled out.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to survive. Either way, we wanted to at least check. Wouldn’t have been much of a burial on a planet about to implode.”
“We don’t bury our people. Still, I am grateful for your rescue.”
“Well, we couldn’t patch you up like we wanted. We’re not familiar with your kind. Thankfully there was a manual in here that listed Mitocinin as a universal numbing serum.”
S’tiri attempted to push his legs to the side of the bed. Almost making it before Jericho stopped him with a pat to his bare shoulder.
“Easy,” Jericho said. “You got a pretty deep wound there.”
“I am Irinan,” S’tiri paused.
Jericho leaned back against the adjacent wall. His face blank as he appeared to contemplate what he had just heard.
“So, this crystal.” He started. “There are more?”
“Yes,” S’tiri responded.
“And we have to find them before that…thing does?”
“Yes.”
“If me and my crew do this, we’re risking ourselves for something we don’t understand.”
S’tiri tried to keep eye contact though difficult. The lights were bright and at the particular moment his wound felt quite fresh.
“It is not difficult to understand destruction.” S’tiri said. “That is what will become of everything you know if you don’t.”
Jericho nodded. Not in what S’tiri had perceived to be an affirmative way. “Alright,” he said quite simply. “Rest now. When you wake, we go from there.”
S’tiri awoke to an empty medbay. The subtle chime and beeps of the machines that sat against the walls adjacent to each bed. The wound was feeling better, but the wrapped bandages were seeped in a colorful liquid. He edged off of the bed. His legs awake but quivering with each twitch. The poly-mesh flooring was a pleasant surprise as he eased his feet slowly toward the door. It opened as soon as he got within proximity.
The corridor was rather bright narrow passage with closed off rooms that gave no clue as to what they held.
To his right, was the closest opening. S’tiri could see a cylindrical part of the hall that housed a utility area and a small stairway. He hugged the edge of the bulkhead while his legs clattered to find their strength. As he approached the steps a body appeared. Araime stood aside it baring down with a soft express. “I knew you were awake.” She said.
“How is that?” S’tiri responded.
She stood silent and motioned further away. “Jericho is in the cockpit, right this way.”
The cockpit was a small with the three he could see already occupying its space. Araime standing by the edge of the entrance. A scarred woman sat in the seat on the left typing away, in front of the seats the screen was a clear view of blank space. Dotted constellations painting a visual.
Jericho sat in the secondary seat gazing at the interface in front of him. He looked back as instantly as S’tiri saw him. “Wow, didn’t think you’d be walking right now.”
S’tiri hung in place, clasping at a small edge. “If you can call it that.”
Jericho let out a slight chuckle. “Better than I’d be doing in your situation.” He rose from the seat. “I had Freya take us back to the edge of federal space. From here we can make our next move.”
S’tiri took a moment to look around. He came to the assumption that the frazzled hair woman in the other cockpit seat was Freya.
“What is the next move?” Jericho asked. He had a blank stare. One that seemed familiar to S’tiri. He had seen it before. Something about it was calm yet contained a distinct tenacity.
“Ever heard of the Ionnid Traverse?” S’tiri said.
Jericho rubbed as his beard and pondered. “No,” he said. “I don’t believe I have.