Epilogue
Capital Square
Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
November 5th, 2588
Colonel Adam Buquoy opened the door, shaking the water off of his rain-slicked coat before moving into the darkened apartment. He gave a weary sigh as he hung his raincoat on the rack by the door and headed for the living room. It had been a long day, and he simply wanted to relax.
He moved into the gloomy den, slipping into his easy chair with practiced familiarity. He bent forward toward the coffee table, fumbling a moment in the darkness before he seized the remote and flipped on the trideo. The entertainment system sprang to life, bathing the room in a flickering blue glow.
"Good evening, Colonel," a soft voice intoned.
Buquoy jumped, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the black clad man seated on the couch across from him. The colonel shot to his feet. "How did you get in here? Who the hell are you?" he demanded.
"Sit down," the intruder ordered coldly, moving aside the folds of his coat to reveal a pistol aimed directly at Buquoy's chest.
Buquoy swallowed hard and sank back into the easy chair. He licked his suddenly dry lips, "What is this about?"
"We hear you're getting along famously with your new overlords," said the man, pointedly ignoring Buquoy's question. "They gifted you with a new position, I understand. Military liaison officer to the Star League Occupation Force—so very catchy."
Buquoy stiffened, "They graciously offered me a position in the new government. I would have been a fool to decline the invitation."
"Why, so you can gobble up what scraps fall from Cameron's table? Is that why you turned your back on your nation? So you can feast on the leftovers of Cameron's Empire like a trained lap dog?"
"I did no such thing," Buquoy said defiantly. "I'm not a traitor."
"Whether you acknowledge the truth or not, I don't particularly care. It's not up to you. Your guilt has already been decided."
The man stood, leveling his weapon at Buquoy, "Senior Colonel Adam Buquoy," he said evenly, "you have been found guilty of high treason against your nation and your sworn liege. For this crime, you have been sentenced to death. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
Buquoy shook his head frantically "No, it wasn't like that. I had to do it. I couldn't let the rest of our troops die needlessly."
"You killed the Magistrix."
"I had to. She was going to destroy us all. Those people would have followed her to hell and back if she asked them. As long as she was alive, they were as good as dead."
The man cocked his head to the side, "Don't you think that is a decision you should have left up to them?"
"They're still alive, aren't they?"
"At what cost? Cameron raped us of our freedom, our dignity. We're nothing more than slaves to that madman. Those soldiers would have rather died fighting than live in subservience. Can't you see that? Or is your opinion the only one that means a damn thing?"
"In this case, yes! I did the right thing, can't you see that?"
He sighed, "I'm tired of arguing with you."
"My surrender didn't change the eventual outcome of the war," he protested. "I saved hundreds of lives."
"And you murdered one."
Buquoy opened his mouth as if to protest, but stopped. "Yes. I did."
"Then you admit your crime," the figure stated evenly.
"I committed no crime, but I freely admit my deed. That much has never been in question."
The other man allowed himself a small smile, "Do I sense a flicker of courage? Perhaps you still know what honor is after all."
"I always have," Buquoy said evenly.
"Many would beg to differ, but I will not argue the point. I am here to offer you one last chance to redeem yourself, to willingly accept your punishment for the crimes you have committed and face the demise you denied the men and women under your command."
He reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a small snub-nosed revolver. Bending forward, he lay it on the coffee table before Colonel Buquoy. "You have the opportunity to dole out your own punishment, to atone for the crime you have committed against your liege and your nation."
Buquoy glanced up at him, then back down to the revolver. He hesitantly reached down to pick up the weapon, slowly turning the pistol over in his palms. He slipped his hand around the grip, finger resting lightly on the trigger. "I did the right thing," he said softly.
"You have the opportunity to do the right thing now," the other man intoned.
Buquoy bit his lip and began to lift the weapon to his temple.
He suddenly stopped, lifting his eyes up at the figure before him. "No." He leveled the revolver at him and pulled the trigger.
The hammer snapped forward with a sharp click, and then nothing.
His executioner smiled, "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to give you a loaded gun?"
Buquoy could only stare in shocked disbelief.
"I just wanted to see what you would do. I wanted to see if you could face your demise with the same kind of courage Floral Centrella showed in the face of her own imminent destruction. For a minute there, I had hope for you, but sadly it wasn't meant to be."
"Killing me won't change anything," Buquoy stammered.
"No, but it will send a message," the figure breathed quietly. "It will tell all of the Inner Sphere that the Magistracy of Canopus will never forget. We may have been beaten, but our unconquerable spirit remains strong. Cameron cannot take away from us our inherent right to freedom. No one can.
"No Empire lasts forever. Eventually, the Star League will fall, and our people will rise up once again." He smiled cruelly, "I may never live to see that glorious day, but I know one thing for sure. You'll not live to see tomorrow."
He clamped down on the trigger, the hammer tripped forward, and this time the gun spoke.