Rupert took the offered glass of water and gathered his thoughts.
"You're right. I wasn't on the cruisers, and I did make an effort to do right at the end. I always behaved honourably, and within the accepted rules of war, with the intention to make things better for my home planet. There was something my father used to say, though, before he passed from the same respiratory illness that eventually kills everyone on Leeds. The road to hell is paved with good intentions."
Rupert took a drink before continuing.
"I didn't participate directly in the genocide being committed against my people, but that doesn't mean I'm not responsible in my own way. I helped put a Bretonian face on the occupation. I gave it legitimacy, and made it seem normal or even desirable. Do you remember that open letter I sent out just over a year ago? Do you think that I had the resources to reach every neural net terminal in Bretonia on my own? I was barely out of officer's training at the time when someone from the Navy's propaganda office asked me if I'd be willing to reach out to my fellow Bretonians. The letter was entirely my own words, and they spread it as far and wide as they could. After that, local Gallic-controlled news outlets made me a regular feature of their broadcasts. The Leeds native fighting on his people's behalf in the Marine Royale, a symbol of Leeds' place in the King's dominion, not as conquered enemy territory, but as a liberated world equal to any other in Gallia."
Rupert took another drink.
"Of course, that was bollocks, even if I was too much of an idiot to see it. It was starting to have an effect, though, particularly amongst children and teenagers too young to really remember life under Bretonian rule. One boy, from my own home city of Beeston, sent me a letter once, telling me he couldn't wait to join the Marine Royale and be just like me. That boy is probably dead now, along with everyone else in Beeston."
Rupert's eyes began to tear up.
"Even some of those old enough to know better allowed themselves to start believing it. They were tired of war, tired of death, and ready to believe things could at least return to normal. Had I not allowed myself to be used in that manner, hell, had I been smart enough to join the resistance instead of fighting for the enemy, some of those people might have sought their peace off world, as so many others did. How many died because I convinced them that there was a future for Leeds under Gallic rule? Maybe just a few, maybe thousands, or maybe just that one child. However many it is, though, their blood is on my hands."
Rupert put down his cup and wiped the tears from his eyes. He took a deep breath before continuing.
"I understand what you're trying to do, and I do appreciate it. I don't hear very many kind words these days. Still, can you honestly say I'm truly an innocent in all this? Whatever second chance you're offering, whatever you're trying to recruit me for, forget it. Save it for someone who deserves it."
Rupert waved to the camera to summon the guard, certain that he didn't actually shut them off. He needed to end this meeting. He knew that if he stayed here and listened long enough, he'd allow himself to be convinced, and avoid the justice he came here to face.