Author’s note: Please read Mynxee’s The Pirate & The Colonel chapter before continuing.

DAL VI – MOON 1
REPUBLIC JUSTICE DEPARMENT TRIBUNAL

“We’re sorry, Colonel, but we need you to come with us.” the first security escort said as the two of them stood inside of my quarters, having bypassed my security lock. They wore the uniforms and riot gear of TLF Military Police, which meant something had gone wrong, horribly wrong, and I was implicated.

I hadn’t slept a wink that night, and was still working on my rescue plan for Mynxee when they had arrived early in the morning. I wasn’t at my best physically or emotionally, being sleep deprived and wrought with distress over the entire situation.

“May I at least inquire as to why?” I asked politely, yet firmly, slowly reaching to unclip the holster on my sidearm furthest away from their view. I wasn’t about to shoot an MP, but I wasn’t going to go anywhere until someone started giving me answers.

Shakor wouldn’t respond to any of my meeting requests or comm messages. None of my own staff involved on the case would give me any information, even off the record, not even that Halwick kid I had taken under my wing not so long ago. I couldn’t fault any of them for it, duty was duty, and in a way I was proud of their resolve to follow orders, but my mind was set, and I was as stubborn as they came.

I needed to rescue her. I needed to show her I loved her. If that meant leaving this life behind, then so be it; she was worth it. The actions of my superiors in the last twenty four hours had shown me just how valued any one person truly was, regardless of their prior contributions to the cause. We were all just disposable pawns, played when needed, removed from the game board when not.

I was nobody’s pawn.

“Sir, please. Remove your sidearms slowly and place them on the floor.” The second escort said, seeing what I was attempting. I slowly removed my pistols and placed them on the floor, the first escort having his hand on his stun baton while cautiously approaching me. They were treating me like they would any other criminal. It was infuriating.

I stood suddenly, pushing my shoulders back broadly, making them aware of my full presence. They both started for a moment, quickly regaining their composure, one grabbing my wrists and securing binders on me, the second reading me the charges against me.

“Colonel Roc Wieler, you are hereby charged with treason of the highest degree against the Tribal Liberation Force and against the Minmatar Republic. You are also charged with murder in the second degree for the death of Spear Lieutenant Daul Halwick.”

The words hit me like a frigate to the face. Daul was dead? How was that even possible? I had seen him only two days prior. And treason against the Republic? I would never do such a thing. What the hell was going on?

I was thankful that I hadn’t made a scene, or engaged the MPs directly in my quarters; whatever was going on, that would certainly have made things worse for me.

With one MP on each arm, I was walked out of my room during the morning rush hour at Dal station. My sunglasses were removed and confiscated, and I felt completely exposed and vulnerable.

A crowd of pedestrians quickly gathered, gossip spreading like rampant wildfire amongst them as I was escorted into a nearby hovercart, and driven away down the esplanade, strangers staring and judging me the entire way. I hung my head low, feeling the burning shame inflicted upon me by them, but knowing I had done nothing wrong and would eventually be exonerated.

—

“Goddammit!” Maleatu Shakor, Sanmatar of the Republic screamed at me, spittle dripping from his mouth. His face was crimson with an anger I had never seen in him before, veins viciously pulsating in his forehead.

I was seated in a small interrogation room on a metal chair bolted to the concrete floor. A single recessed light fixture illuminated us from above. The two MPs stood on either side of me, with two more heavily armed MPs guarding the door, as well as one more watching from behind a secured mirror panel. My legs had been secured to ankle clamps on the chair, in addition to the binders still secured at my wrists.

“Just talk to me! Tell me why you did it!” Shakor said. “Was it money? Was it power? Did I not mentor you? Did I not give you every opportunity you wanted? Why did you do this?!” More spittle flew from his mouth.

“Talk to you?” I replied, my own anger threatening to make my situation worse. “You mean, like you’ve been talking to me the last few days? If you hadn’t kept me in the dark on this entire operation I could’ve helped prevent this tragedy. If you had…” I was cut off mid-sentence by a stinging slap from the Sanmatar.

“You forget your place, Colonel.” Shakor said, rubbing his hand from the force of his blow. I could feel my cheek swelling, knowing there would be a fine bruise there. Even though he was the most powerful politician in the Republic, the man was an accomplished warrior first, and those were skills you never forgot.

“I don’t answer to you.” Maleatu said, poking his finger into my chest. “You answer to me. Do you get that? Do you understand that?” He repeatedly poked me. “You’ve been spoiled with privilege.” he added.

“You had such potential,” he continued on, turning and walking away from me. “You had so much promise. I was so blinded, forgive the pun, by what I saw in you. You could’ve been a great leader, a wonderful politician. Don’t you see I was grooming you to be the next Sanmatar?”

I felt like a child who had disappointed his father one too many times, had crossed a line where unconditional love no longer applied. I was being disowned by my mentor, but moreso, by the Sanmatar of the Republic. The worst feeling in all of this was that I hadn’t been part of any of the things I stood accused of.

“So let me ask you once again, Colonel Wieler; why did you do it? Was it love? Did you love her? Loved her enough to murder one of your own men? You are a disgrace to the uniform; a disgrace to me.”

“Sanmatar, please, as I’ve said every time I’ve been asked, I had nothing to do with this.” My anger had been replaced with fear. Not fear for the ramifications to the Republic or fear of how the press would feast on this; it had been repeatedly hammered into my dense skull lately that I simply wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. It was a fear of failure. I had worked so hard at my career, tirelessly put in effort towards making my life successful in the ways that mattered most: loyalty, honesty, integrity, morality, and now I was being perceived much in the same way I was when held in captivity by the Amarr as a child.

I was a dog.

The Sanmatar was visibly trembling with thinly held rage.

He stormed towards me, his hand raised, his mouth open, and I prepared for another blow. But then he stopped, holding the pose for a moment. He closed his mouth, lowered his hand, and spoke to me gently. His words cut me open more than any physical attack he could’ve made.

“You disappoint me, son.” was all he said, then turned and left the room.

There was no room for self-pity. A good man had died. That is what mattered.

I’m sorry, Daul. I thought to myself. You deserved better, kid.

I had gone over possible scenarios in my mind as to what had could’ve gone down, and came up with countless scenarios, each vastly different from the other.

There were only two themes in common amongst them:

1. Mynxee was no longer in custody
2. She had murdered Daul Halwick

I didn’t know how, or why, and I didn’t honestly believe she was capable of doing something so cold blooded, but no matter how it happened, she was responsible for his death. His blood was on her hands… and mine for having ever been so naively taken in by her in the first place.

I nearly laughed out loud at my latest self realization; how quickly passionate and fierce love could transform into vengeful and unrelenting hate. Mynxee had finally made it clear what her position was regarding us, and it suited me just fine.

I swore to myself that one day, no matter where or how it happened, I would hold Mynxee accountable for her actions. There would be no secured return to the Republic for her. There would be no trial; no incarceration.

There was going to be hell to pay. Hell. To. Pay.