The news of Colonel Roc Wieler’s innocence was causing greater ripples throughout the Republic than any had thought possible, especially Maleatu Shakor.

Shakor had provided the liberating evidence at the 11th hour, fully expecting to have to face a very angry Roc Wieler when all was said and done. The Colonel, for all his short temperedness, wasn’t a stupid man, and would’ve figured out that Shakor had possessed the murder footage all along, as well as the footage of Roc Wieler’s private quarters.

He was going to be furious, and the Sanmatar had steeled himself to rationalize his actions, reminding the Colonel of his place and how he owed Shakor his freedom.

But then the damn fool went and pleaded guilty to charges of slave trading. That was completely unexpected, and most unfortunate.

Instead of enjoying a victory in this, a welcome and positive distraction from the crumbling war efforts, the media was in even more of a heightened frenzy over the admission of slave trading.

Things were going to get much worse before they got better for any of us.

—

*EDITOR’S NOTE: Please read Sard Caid’s post For Roc. Thanks Sard 🙂

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I’m not one prone to depression, despite what some may have thought of me. I suppose when I recall my stories of yesteryear, I simply try to get across every aspect I recall: emotions, details, opinions, everything that can illustrate the impact these events had on my life.

When I speak of despair, overwhelming odds, insecurities, self questioning and self loathing, it isn’t for sympathy, nor for self pity, nor to make any victories I have enjoyed seemed that much greater in the face of certain defeat.

My recollections are simply how I remember things. Nothing more; nothing less.

I found myself sitting once again in the cold, dank cell that had become my temporary home. I had been informed by the Tribunal that all my assets were to be seized and reviewed, and that I was to remain incarcerated throughout the duration of the investigation.

I couldn’t help but overthink things. A lot had happened in a very short amount of time, and none of it had been within my control. Some might think that made me a control freak, but I believe we all like to be in control of our own lives, as I have said many times before.

I had lost a good man in Daul Halwick, and was still seething at his death; but I had seen the footage, and I knew Mynxee well enough to know she hadn’t killed him on purpose. Still, he was dead at her hand, and she would have to pay.

Then there was the security footage of my private quarters. It made me wonder what other privacies of mine had been violated by the office of the Sanmatar, and what legal recourse I could possibly have.

I was enraged at Minara Dawn, my trusted broker of years. Had I known how she was acquiring my wealth, I would’ve put a stop to it immediately. Really, it was my own fault. That was who my anger was mostly directed at.

I felt enormous angst just considering how many lives I had destroyed unwittingly through this; how many families I had forever hurt through ignorance and greed at the profits I had seen.

The guilt was mine to bear. Regardless of whether I had directly engaged in this or not, the responsibility fell to me. And I embraced it fully.

As a Capsuleer, it didn’t matter to me how long I was incarcerated, provided they didn’t strip me of my immortality. Minara was also a pod pilot, meaning one day, I would bring to account for her crimes against me, and the Matari.

For now, there was nothing left to do but wait.