I was seven years old when the Imperial Inquisitor requested me. By then, I had already forgotten how long I had been working as a slave; forgotten how long it had been since I was a child of the Minmatar.

To serve an Inquisitor was a great honour amongst the slave camps. It was almost a guarantee that you would be in the presence of God more quickly than the rest, and during your remaining short life you would accomplish much glory in the name of the Emperor.

I remember first arriving at the capital of Sarum Prime to my new assignment. I had never seen anything so spectacular in my entire life. It was literally breathtaking and awe inspiring. I could see why so many of us were indoctrinated so easily into the Amarrian belief system; aside from the dependency on Vitoc. The architecture was astounding; the cacophony of sight and sound overwhelming to the senses. The people were the height of fashion and sophistication; it truly was an impressive Empire.

I eventually reached a cathedral; my new home, shared accomodation with Imperial Inquisitor Cho; and should I learn humbly from this mighty man of God, much honour and glory would be bestowed upon me. At the time, I was honoured. Looking back, I am sickened.

It was only a few days before Inquisitor Cho had a task for us. “Dog, (his pet name for me), we have received a most honour filled duty this morning, from the office of the Emperor himself. One of the many traitors to the Empire has been located, here on Sarum Prime, and it is our duty to show him the error of his ways, and bring him back to God.”

I eagerly prepared, making sure I had enough food wrapped and preserved, as well as clothing and supplies for the journey. For all his might, for all his power, Inquisitor Cho often led a simplistic life. This journey would be on foot, and should only take us a few days. There was much I would learn from him, I thought at the time; patience, humility, appreciation for simplicity, and much more. I did in fact learn those things from him, and much more.

We talked as we travelled to make the time pass by more pleasantly. Generally it was me asking questions incessantly, and Inquisitor Cho patiently answering my inquiries. He seemed to have an answer for everything. Eventually, he would raise his hand to silence me, encouraging me to spend some time digesting the information he had imparted upon me. 

As the hours turned into days, and we ventured farther and farther from the capital, I noticed how society seemed to decay by comparison. Cities turned into towns; towns into villages; villages into small farms; farms into huts. The farther you travelled from the capital, the less civilized things became.

On the fourth day, we finally came to a small hut in the middle of nowhere. It was quite dilapidated, with holes in the roofing slats, cracks in the mud walls, and general disrepair. A goat was kenneled in a small pen beside the  hut. There was a young boy, younger than me, playing with a stick in the dirt happily in front of the house. He hadn’t seen us approaching.

I had learned from Inquisitor Cho that the traitor we sought had caused much grief to the Emperor publically. He had been a politician of many years, but only recently had the devils possessed his mind. In his mad rantings, he had decried the Emperor, and the Amarr people as a whole, tearing his clothing to emphasize his shame. The Emperor, though saddened to his core, felt he had no choice but to make an example of this man. He took all his wealth, all his holdings, all his power. He exiled him from all of Amarr space, and yet only recently had it been learned that the traitor was still here, only a few day’s journey away from the capital itself.

He had nothing. His wife and his son were his only relatives; and the goat they used for milk and simple farming. Their existence had gone from one of grandeur to one of squalor.

But the Emperor, upon discovering the location of this man, had taken pity on him, and it had been decided to show him mercy. That is why we were here today. To extend the mercy of the great Emperor; to bring him back to God.

As we drew closer to the small hut, the young boy noticed us, stood abruptly, and ran screaming into the hut. A few moments later, a scruffy, older looking man came out from the hut, the young boy clinging to his leg, despite the older man’s attempts to push the boy inside. A womanly scream, filled with crying, came from inside the hut. The older man held a crude knife in his trembling hand.

“You’re not welcome here, Cho,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’ve done no harm. I bother nobody. Leave me to my existence, I beg of you.”

The Inquisitor didn’t break his stride, steadily closing the gap between us and the older man. At a subtle hand gesture from my master, I quickly pulled out a small laser pistol, and pointed it at the older man.

The older man’s eyes widened, and he dropped his knife, falling to his knees, his hands clasping in a prayer like motion. “Please, Cho, please don’t kill me. Don’t kill my family. Haven’t I suffered enough?”

It was hard to read Inquisitor Cho sometimes. I knew he was a good man, but sometimes his actions were contradictory to that. 

He extended his hand, palm up, welcoming the older man to take it. “I’m not here to kill you, Creighton. I am here on behalf of the Emperor to extend his mercy to you; the mercy of God to you. Today, you shall live.”

The old man began shaking even more, and the screaming from inside the hut was preceded by a plump woman bursting outwards onto the scene, clutching her son in her arms protectively.

“No!” she screamed. “We don’t want your mercy!” She cried while she yelled, spitting as she spoke. I didn’t understand. Why were these people so afraid of mercy? Mercy was a blessing. It was a gesture of good will. Why were they refusing it?

There was a silence for a time. 

Finally, my master turned to me and whispered “Kill the goat.” I walked towards the pen, and observed the goat for a moment. It was a sickly creature, far too scrawny to be of much use to anyone else, but this was all they had. How was killing it showing them mercy? Without it, they wouldn’t have milk. Without it, they wouldn’t be able to farm and make money for market. I was confused. The goat didn’t looked diseased. Why were we killing it?

I turned to Inquisitor Cho with a pleading look in my eye, a question on the tip of my lips, but he silenced me with a glare.

I didn’t understand. This wasn’t mercy at all. I killed the goat, cursing my master and the Emperor under my breath. If this was an act of our merciful God, I didn’t want any part of it.

We left shortly after that, much to the visible relief of the family in the hut. I didn’t speak to my master for nearly an entire day. Finally, I could take it no more, and as we made camp for the night, I exploded in anger.

“You took everything from them! How could you do such a thing? How could you destroy their milk? How could you destroy their farm? Did you see their hut? Did you see where the rain would leak in? And there were holes in the wall. It must be very cold at night. Why did you do it? Why did you take everything? Why did you kill their goat and say it was mercy? There is no mercy in that! Is that the God we serve? Is that how we show mercy, by killing things? We could’ve helped them. Where is the mercy? Answer me!”

I had never been more infuriated in my life at that point. My small chest heaved with heavy breaths and adrenaline, my fists clenching at my sides in impotent rage. My master didn’t have to do anything I demanded; he didn’t have to even respond. In fact, he could kill me on the spot and nobody would even mourn my loss. I was completely surprised by what he did next though.

“We were supposed to kill their son.” There was no emotion in his voice, just flat fact. 

I was completely deflated. I had nothing left.

It took me many years to figure out exactly what Inquisitor Cho had meant that day. During that time, I had never lost track of that family. They had died, slowly, painfully, from starvation and disease, with nobody willing to aid them, and no means of income. Mercy had become torture. It was a lesson to them that there was no mercy if you betrayed the Empire, and they had paid the ultimate price in their education.

It was many years later that I triumphed over Vitoc; that I escaped from Sarum Prime and took control of my own destiny. 

It was many years later before I had Inquisitor Cho in the crosshairs of my Vagabond. As I tore his ship away from him, I had my crew quickly lock onto his pod, and sent him a secured comm. The look of shock and terror on his face was very satisfying.

“I can offer you a fortune,” he said quickly. “I am very powerful in the Empire. Name your terms.” He was begging for mercy; how very quaint.

“Hello, master.” His face contorted into an almost comical expression as he tried to figure out who I was then contorted differently once realization occured.

“Dog, I mean … Roc? Is that you? My son, what are you doing? Do you wish the wrath of God Himself? Have mercy on me.” I was a raging storm of hostility inside, but I kept myself in check this one time.

“If I wasn’t merciful, Cho, you’d be dead already, but I wanted to speak to you, face to face.” Confusion was etched on his face.

“I will be merciful, Cho. You are a Capsuleer, and will live again. Your children however …” I let my sentence dangle off. His expression turned from one of confusion to one of fury.

“If you so much as touch a hair on their …”, he screamed at me before I cut him off.

“It’s already done, Cho. They died quickly, which is more than you ever did for Creighton and his family. Never let it be said that I didn’t learn mercy from the very best, master.”

And with that, I gave the command to fire.