Rann'eal'teristi awoke to the loud trilling of mzaris outside and the softer answer of his own pet c'are'pes, a similar species of avians. For just a moment, it seemed as though it would be a beautiful day. Just for a moment, however because, all too soon, the harsh reality of what he would have to do today returned.
He rose and approached his c'are'pes. They chirped softly and occasionally fluttered their long elegant wings, dropping blue, green, and red feathers in the bottom of their cage. He sighed, slipping a few extra berries into their feeder.
Today he would uphold the ideals of their ancestors and rid his people of a fiercely loyal and talented warrior leader. As he went through his morning ritual he tried to rid himself of such doubts. It was his job to protect and uphold the ancient laws, not question them. His people had questioned their laws before, had let one person break the rules and that had resulted in a disastrous confrontation dangerously close to civil war. He shuddered, glad that it had been before his time. It was because of his terror at the idea of causing another such dispute that he had decided to have no mercy on Mitth'raw'nuruodo.
He chose to wear simple, sophisticated robes in burgundy, the same color as the uniforms of the Expansionary Defense, which signified justice and protection. Today he would show his people that such principles were alive and well.
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Nael'are'tanari allowed himself a smile as he entered his private transport. Yes, today would be a good day. He was about to, as the entire city watched, dispense justice to a dangerous radical.
He had worn his most eloquent robes for this special occasion. If he was going to be remembered as a hero and protector of the ancient codes, he wanted to look good in the historical records.
He gave another slight grin as he exited the transport and entered through the private back door of the kaa'pet'ale . Yes, today would be a good day.
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Mattl'ark'eari made her way swiftly and quietly to the meeting chambers. The others, who had arrived early, stood conversing in a corner of the room. She greeted them quietly, adjusting the simple black robes she'd chosen to signify the solemnness of the occasion.
In the uncomfortable silence that ensued, Mattl'ark'eari found herself wondering how the others felt about this. She'd thought long and hard about this herself and had come to the conclusion that they were simply doing what had to be done. This was her job. There was no room to question it and certainly no room to allow emotions to get in the way of what had to be done.
They all glanced at each other, each studying the others, trying to reassure themselves or simply get some idea of what the other was thinking. After a moment, Rann'eal'teristi gave a small, solemn nod. It was time. Mattl'ark'eari nodded in return. Just another day's work.
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She took her seat in the front row where she could be as close as possible to him. She found the seats filling rapidly, everyone competing for the best seat for what would, no doubt, be the most influential trial any of them would live to see. In a matter of minutes it seemed as though the entire city were there. They all made it a point to glare at her as they found their seats. She felt as though she would be crushed under the weight of their angered stares; and she hadn't even done anything.
Suddenly, the gargantuan wooden doors swung ponderously open and she saw her beloved, once again, being led along like a common prisoner. They glared at him with the kind of hatred, accusation, and animosity one would have for a brutal murderer. And in their eyes he was.
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Mitth'raw'nuruodo had spent most of the previous night dreading this moment, most of the early morning pondering just what his punishment would be, and the few hours before the trial preparing himself. He had cycled through every practical emotion and demeanor and had now come to a point of quiet reserve. He would accept whatever punishment they gave him with all the grace and dignity possible. He would show no weakness. He had done the right thing, and if he let them think that he doubted that, then all of this would be in vain.
He searched the crowd and finally found his lifemate sitting in the front row. She looked tired and forlorn and as beautiful as he had ever seen her. He gave her a small smile and a silent nod of reassurance and then turned his attention to the fate that lay ahead. He had faced the same crowd before, but this time was far more difficult. Where before there had been jeering, taunting, and accusations there was now nothing but a cold, dead silence. The anger was there still but now it was an icy, bitter anger that was displayed in glares that seemed to bore through to his very soul. If only they could truly see his soul. They would know that he had meant no harm. They would understand his intentions.
He wanted to run, to hide, to shrink away to nothing--anything to escape the accusations. He had done the right thing. He had saved their lives. They simply did not understand that there were consequences for survival...
He closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, and pushed all of the frantic doubts and fears from his mind. When he opened them again he ignored the crowd and simply gazed ahead focusing on the enormous Expansionary Defense emblem displayed on the wall above the podiums where the judges waited. That emblem had once been a source of pride; now it seemed to loom over him, a glaring judgment.
The proud warrior took his place in the center of the large mosaic floor pattern. It a was a popular design in government buildings. The sun was a source of inspiration and a reminder of their ancestor's struggles. It was an important religious symbol to his people. There was a single day each year when the sun could be seen at its full intensity due to several geographical and meteorological occurrences. That day began with ceremonies at the temples and then moved on to food, dancing and other various methods of celebration. It was at one of these celebrations that his intense interest in art had begun. He had attended an art show with his family and from that day forth had spent as much time as was feasible examining and studying every work in the museum. It was more than a simple interest in painting techniques, however. It was an interest in the emotion and motives behind the artwork. His curiosity had, by now, become an obsession, and he believed, with more study, could essentially become a weapon.
Suddenly, he was torn from his reminiscence and thrown back into harsh reality by the sounding of the gong that brought the meeting to order.
"This meeting of the High Council of the Ruling Families is hereby called to order," the guard who had rang the gong called out the official statement. From this point on silence and honorable conduct were demanded of the guests.
"Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo has been accused and convicted of the crimes of murder and treason. We have heard his defense and he now stands before this council to accept his punishment," Rann'eal'teristi began the proceedings with the formal statement. Mitth'raw'nuruodo suppressed a grimace. He hated the way that sounded. It made him seem like a vicious and dishonorable killer. He had done nothing other than protect them. If that was a crime, then he was proud to be a delinquent.
"Punishment?" The sudden shout came from the back of the room. "You're actually planning to punish him? You should all be thanking him for your lives." The crowd turned to see who was causing this disruption. Mitth'raw'nuruodo didn't have to turn. The voice was one he had heard every day since being appointed to the fleet. It was Daas'ten'talon, his second-in-command. His first thought was gratefulness which quickly turned to despair. He couldn't bear the thought of dragging anyone else into the ordeal. This attack had been his idea, he had planned and implemented it. His subordinates had simply fulfilled their duty--to obey the command of their leading officer. He would accept punishment for his mistakes. He could not allow anyone else to do so.
"I suggest that you take your seat, Stent," Nael'are'tanari offered icily into the uncomfortable silence, using only his core name, a highly disrespectful gesture at such a formal occasion, "I will not hesitate to have you removed from this meeting. By force if necessary."
He did take his seat, reluctantly. But it would be far more disgraceful to suffer a removal than to back down from his argument. Mitth'raw'nuruodo breathed a quiet, and hopefully discreet sigh of relief. However, his attempt at subtlety was futile.
"Oh, don't worry, Commander. We'll deal with your second and the other officers soon enough," Nael'are'tanari assured him, grinning wickedly and enjoying this show of disparagement a bit too much.
"I trust that we can now continue without disruption," Rann'eal'teristi stated, throwing a disapproving glance at Nael'are'tanari and effectively neutralizing all of the caustic retorts that came to Mitth'raw'nuruodo's mind. The representative and Stent exchanged final resentful glances, then each nodded their agreement.
"Good. Now then," he went on, "the topic of the Commander's guilt has already been discussed. Had he chosen to follow the codes we would, indeed, be celebrating his victory right now. However, since he chose to recklessly abandon them and attack without provocation, we are condemning him."
Mitth'raw'nuruodo could no longer stand idly by and allow these accusations and misstatements. "If I am to be condemned for defending my people against Enemies who would have no qualms about extinguishing our entire race, then I will gladly accept any punishment and disgrace you bestow upon me," he stated calmly.
"You had the chance to defend yourself, Commander," Nael'are'tanari reminded him almost automatically, seeming somewhat subjugated. He suddenly began his tirade again, however, apparently having realized his moment of weakness.
"Your fate has already been decided. That fate can be made far worse," he hissed, obviously bothered by his momentary wavering.
Mitth'raw'nuruodo bitterly wished that they would inform him of his fate and get it over with. He was growing impatient with all this talk of his guilt and the horrible punishment to come.
"In light of your previous crimes, we of the Council have come to the conclusion that your punishment must be more severe than the normal sentence for such an act," Rann'eal'teristi stated, referring to the Commander's decision to aid the human, Kinman Doriana, by terminating Outbound Flight. The Ruling Families hadn't agreed with that command decision either.
Thinking back to the nearly disastrous meeting after that event, Mitth'raw'nuruodo summarily withdrew his wishes to know his fate--to no avail, of course.
"Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Warrior Leader and High Commander of the Chiss Expansionary Defense," Rann'eal'teristi began authoritatively as Mitth'raw'nuruodo took a deep breath and said one last silent prayer, "you are hereby removed from your position, stripped of all rank and sentenced to exile. Removal of rank is effective immediately, exile effective in precisely 72 hours."
The reaction was silence--a terrible silence in which the words seemed to hang. Even the citizens who had, just a few minutes ago, been out for blood had been silenced by the severity of the verdict.
Mitth'raw'nuruodo released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, feeling as though he'd just suffered a physical blow. Exile? The word rang through his mind, sounding harsh and cruel.
"No!" It was his wife who broke the silence and interrupted his reeling. She ran to his defense, protesting with shouted curses punctuated by sobs. The guards had soon detained her, however, allowing Rann'eal'teristi to continue.
"Guards will be placed at your residence and will accompany you at all times during this period. Once your allotted time has elapsed they will escort you, along with the authorized personal effects, to the local civilian docking bay from which you will depart and be escorted to your place of exile."
Unable to decide on an acidic retort or another statement of defense, Mitth'raw'nuruodo settled on a simple nod. There were no words that would convince them to change their minds. They would never understand and in three days he would no longer have anyone to convince.
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