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Battleship Aurora, Tau-29
Time: 0032 Sirius Standard
9/24/824

.....A dark, unadorned hallway is being traversed by three men. Iron doors populate the sides, each with a small window installed at eye-level, every so often. All is silent, save for the sounds of boots hitting the floor. Most of the doors are unlocked, empty; there was no need for them to be locked otherwise. The trio stop short of one of the doors - #032-B. The front-most of the three pulls out an ID and unlocks the door, pulling it open. The trailing men enter, and the door is closed.

.....The room, barely lit by a dim light, looks plain. A lavatory in the corner, a hard obstruction sticks from the wall, placed to serve as an uncomfortable bed. A huddled figure sits in the corner on top of it.

.....One of them speaks up. "Senor. Time's come. Get your boots and let's go." Once ready, the quartet proceeded on out of the cells, down the hallway towards the entrance to the celled section of the ship. More unfamiliar, mildly unfriendly hallways were passed before arriving at a fairly large room with seats, a central stand, two tables sat opposed to one another and a section for a group of deciders. The courtroom awaited them.

.....The man squinted his eyes as the blinding bright light of the Aurora's corridors flooded into his cell. Food trays came through the gap, and his cell was cleaned only when he was allowed daily PT under the watchful eyes of the Maltese exiles - 0800 hours each day. it was 0032.

.....This was it, he thought, hands behind his back and head down as he fell in between the guards. "I've had a good life. Thallia, Lancaster, Raven, Kelly, even Hunt. Lovers, friends, allies." He raised his head, steely grey eyes clear and bright, not unmarred by a single tear streaming down his unshaven face.

"I've done my part.

It's okay.

I can go."

.....His thoughts repeated; a broken record of synapses even after he took the stand. Memories of all the things that he had left behind. "Samuel Ethan Locklear", a voice bellowed throughout the courtroom. "You stand accused of mass murder, assault on a civilian vessel, violating a ceasefire, and attacking a vessel in distress, the same charges pressed against you eight months ago aboard the Bellona. How do you plead?"

....."Guilty on all counts, your honor."

Around him were faces he'd never seen before, families and friends of those who were lost alongside filler due to need for neutrals. There wasn't so much a jury in the stands as there was one singular woman, hispanian in a Maltese uniform, a cold stare projected at Locklear.

"So you say. Due to the accused's actions against the defense, as well as the position of the latter, the standard use of a jury will instead be replaced by the lovely Colonel here. Miss.." He looked to her, sitting back mildly as she proceeded to stand. She pulled a manila envelope from below her seat, opening it and proceeding to read.

"Lord Commander Samuel E. Locklear. Approximately eight months ago a vessel of the Hellfire Legion, the military arm of the Commonwealth of House Liberty.." She looked to him. ".. your command.." She looked back down. ".. wrongfully and blatantly attacked a Corvo-class civilian vessel of the Republic of Malta. By the ceasefire laid down prior, as well as the state of distress, the vessel was attacked without reason, and therefore is considered a violation of not only the trust placed in you, but the very definition of the term 'ceasefire'. Due to this, the Republic, by decree of the President, has come to the conclusion that by your actions, as commander of the Hellfire Legion, that your military arm will pay for the costs in your stead. This mercy on your life is not to be lightly taken, and we expect you to do right by not only the Republic, but the Armed Forces and your home of the Commonwealth as well." She proceeded to close the envelope, setting it down beside her and resuming to cross her arms. "Signed, Fleet Admiral Randall M. Santiago..."

There wasn't a word in the courtroom past that moment, all up until she moved down from the stand. "Would you like to add to this in any way, Locklear?"

.....He stood there, slack-jawed in disbelief. Over two hundred dead at his command, and his sentence was... nothing? "Your... your honor, with all due respect I have taken the lives of over two hundred men, women, and children. Many of them injured or suffering Cardamine withdraw. And you would have me walk away? You would have the Commonwealth give reparation for my actions? I can't ask that of you, or of them. Their blood is on my hands and mine alone, Colonel. The Houses may believe blood can be repaid in credit and steel, but we know better.

Why?"

.....He stood there shaking and felt his dinner rising in his throat. He had prepared himself for this. He had walked into the courtroom and taken the stand ready for.. what would the Maltese custom be for a ranking officer of a foreign nation? Lethal injection? Death by firing squad? He began to shake, his peripheral vision going dark, his whole body feeling as if it had been submerged in freezing water. Why?

"I can't be redeemed... what do you want from me?"

.....His life for what? What else was he good for?

.....She eyed him with discontent, arms crossed. There wasn't much that seemed fearful in her posture, but the way she spoke seemed to put a small amount of fear into the judge.
"The President and the Admiral came to the conclusion that ending your life, or even making you suffer, would be both violation of human rights and detrimental to our goals. Building off that, I've come to the knowledge that your military are the 'owners' of two vessels constructed by the Maltese Navy. Our Navy. Nothing can bring back those that were lost, but contributing to the Republic as recompense would be a start."

.....The judge merely looked on, as did the rest of the people in the courtroom. The demand seemed high, but given the initial cost, anything seemed fair at this point. Above all, she didn't seem like she was in a good mood to begin with, and her body language supported that notion.

....."Ravager and Abaddon," Locklear murmured softly. There were a great many problems with her request, of course. Bureaucracy, logistics, and all the tinier issues that came with those the two. But, could it work? He wasn't sure. Maybe. "Both the Commonwealth and the Legion will need to be convinced to hand over these ships. I have no gripes in doing so myself, but I have no feel for the current political climate back home. I was never an entirely popular man because I tried to see eye to eye with both the military and the government, and that meant compromises. There were always extremists on both sides who were more interested in seeing things done their way at the cost of everything than having a functional relationship between each other. Depending on who is in power, Colonel, I can't guarantee they'll take me back over a ship or two."

.....He stood there waiting for a response, but instead the Colonel simply twirled her hand, motioning impatiently for him to go on. Was it that clear from the look on his face that there were bigger problems than politics at work here? "The Ravager's reactor core was heavily damaged in battle. She hasn't moved from her position in Vespucci in nearly a decade, and we've never been able to make her work again. She's effectively little more than a very intimidating weapons platform at present, so unless we pool our manpower and resources together to repair her.. and then there's the issue of us letting the Maltese enter Commonwealth space to begin with. I understand that you are different, certainly you've proven that on this day, but there are many who will fight it tooth and nail."

.....He steeled himself, meeting the Colonel's gaze. "In short, I don't see this happening unless the 72nd openly declare themselves allies of the Commonwealth and aid us in our struggle against the Republic, and I cannot ask more good men and women to die at our command."

.....She scoffed, a little put off by his attitude. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't know that months in the slammer felt like, but then again she hadn't been imprisoned for murder before. "There's already talk among the cabinet to declare it publicly, however that day is still being decided. The Republic will need to make the decision, as the Armed Forces merely does what they request, and even then it may take time for that much to process." Her hands moved to her hips, and while short in height, the way she held herself made her seem like a giant, and about as confident.
"Personally I'd say that a military tactician in the middle of a war is worth two warships that are essentially a liability and a useless toy slapped at the front gate playing viewer. However, that's only me, and the Admiral is likely to think of his own way of dealing with this. Odds are, he'll pull diplomacy and try and exchange what you proposed, but anything's possible."

.....The judge kept an eye on the situation. The entire courtroom was quiet as the two talked, no one wanting to disturb the unusual sanctity of the conversation.

....."Then I suppose we have nothing more to discuss." He said, closing his eyes and folding his hands behind his back, awaiting the familiar feeling of the cuffs around his wrists.

He stood there for what felt like a bit longer than the standard second it would take for the guards to have him restrained and on his way back to his cell. But there were no commands and no cuffs, just a strange atmosphere of unease throughout the ad hoc courtroom which was quiet enough to hear a pin drop in. "I thought our ruling was clear. We cannot let you return to the Legion, but you are not a prisoner aboard this ship, Señor Locklear. Your actions, while reprehensible, were not of malicious intent. You are free, at least within the Aurora."

.....The room began to empty, and Samuel Ethan Locklear took his first free steps aboard the Aurora back to his cell.

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