Rieven’s face was composed in a stony mask of unpleasant judgement as he sat in the Seat of the Lord of Judgement. The Hall of Judgement was empty, as Ono had not permitted any entrants yet, there were four minutes remaining on the proscribed ‘period of separated meditation in the place of judgement’. He cast his eyes around the chamber, taking note of the opulence not seen in other parts of this ship, or any other ship in the fleet, not even the Lord Admiral’s ship had such a place, for only the branch heads could represent the emperor directly in judgement. Here, in this place, he legally sat within the Imperial Palace, proxy to the emperor himself. It was not a thing done lightly, nor was it a chamber he had ever had to use before. Normally on a ship of the Operatic Empire the rooms were low, no more than three metres high, and were only as large as space permitted.
Not so this room. It was an exact replica in miniature of the Imperial Hall of Judgement. Vaulted ceilings flew above the floor at an astonishing six meters, the hall was called a hall because it was large, the corners ran at precisely thirty-three metres by seventeen metres. Dark stone lined the walls, surrounded by gold and precious metals. Gold filigreed oil-fed lamps marked regular intervals along the space, and the floor was tiled in a light marble, polished to a high sheen.
The Seat of the Lord of Judgement was a throne of gold, stone, and various star-fallen metals that had come from comets fallen on Homeworld, some of which were unknown otherwise. It was imposing and uncomfortable, but such was the purpose of Judgement, one should not be comfortable when determining the fate of man, nor could one take time to decide. Discomfort encouraged celeritous judgement and served a constant reminder of the weight of authority. It was also the only seat in the hall. All others were to remain standing for the duration of judgement.
The Seat of Judgement was not the most important feature of the hall. That honour was reserved for the standard hanging from the wall two metres behind the seat. It was black, as only the emperor’s standards were permitted a black field. It was fenced with two lines of white, and the emblem was a shield, wreathed in the feathers of victory, bearing crossed wings below the token of judgment. It was the standard made the proceedings carry the weight of the imperial throne, it was a standard that could only be used in specific circumstances, and all of those circumstances included rebellion within the navy. These men and women were not going to have a good day. Rieven’s face cracked briefly into a smirk. An example was going to be made today, one that all the lords and ladies of Central could not overturn, not without expressing a lack of respect for Imperial Authority, all courtesy of the standard hanging behind him.
Rieven had not been meditating. He had been communing with his pearl. The creature within was gaining power to express himself, slowly but surely. It required parts of his REM cycles to accomplish it, but in return it deepened the remaining cycles, extending their efficacy. He now required much less sleep at any one time, about three hours, but had to sleep at least twice in a thirty hour period of time to be perfectly alert. I actually prefer it, he thought, sleeping only six hours of every thirty. Doing it in two uneven lengths of time is somewhat inconvenient, but I can work around it as it make my remaining twenty-four waking hours much more efficient. He felt a sense of gratitude and friendship come from the pearl. It was happy he was both accepting of the sacrifice he had to make and grateful for the benefits received in turn. Time would tell what this symbiotic relationship would mature into, but for now, his octopus fed on dreams and grew slowly night by night.
The ceremonial end-tone for the meditation period sounded. A moment later, master sergeant Ono pushed the double doors at the other end of the hall open, and strode in with ceremony. He was followed by twelve squads of marines, all in their ceremonial combat armour – black and gold. It had been fabricated last night. It was functional and looked painfully officious to the master sergeant. Rieven could tell, Ono hated it. Each squad marched under their own standard, bedecked with ribbons. Those service ribbons told the entire history of the squad, from its founding to the present day; they would receive an additional ribbon for their service today in the Hall of Judgement.
They lined the hall by squad, backs to the wall and lasguns aimed at the floor, leaving a broad corridor in the middle and an open space around and before the Seat of Judgement. Ono bowed formally to the standard on the wall, a precise ninety degrees, held for six seconds. Then he rose crisply and spun on his heels, facing the Dragon Guard who stood at attention around the open doors.
Rieven spoke then, in the silence before the brutal judgements were to begin. He spoke for those present, but mostly he spoke for those not present, for those who would watch this live, and for all those in the future who would watch this recording. He spoke from the place within him that housed truth. “We stand in the service of the Emperor of the Operatic Empire. We serve at his pleasure. We stand between the chaos amongst the stars and the order of his empire. An honourable service, one which the emperor cultivates most carefully. However, there is a payment demanded when those who serve at his pleasure begin serving their own interests instead. Brutal obedience is demanded by our emperor when order begins to fail. This shall the emperor have. These accused today have forgotten the way of things and their place therein. Very well, they shall be reminded. Remember you who watch, remember and never forget, that falseness in the Operatic Empire is swiftly punished with aggressive prejudice. Remember and learn. Remember and never forget.”
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Every imperial marine in the room pounded their left hand against their breastplate three times in response. Rieven then nodded to master sergeant Ono. Ono looked at Corporal Snaptoe and said, “Bring forth the accused.” he ordered, in a tone rich with formality. Snaptoe saluted and gestured for private Dragontooth and private Heavensent to collect the first accused. They were to be brought individually from their paddock to the Seat of the Lord of Judgement to have the charges against them read, as well as the judgement. This would keep them from attempting to riot and would allow the more egregious of the accused to have more time in white meditation. That meant that Greeves was going to be among the very last.
Privates Dragontooth and Heavensent returned with a shock-ridden woman between them. Her eyes were empty, not truly seeing the hall or the soldiers around her. The two marines brought the naked woman through the corridor towards the seat. Her feet dragged behind her as the marines held her up by her arms despite her lack of effort to remain upright. When they reached a large circle carved deeply into the tiles, they dropped her and stepped back. She remained on the floor, staring at nothing.
Rieven looked down at her and tapped a button on the side of the seat. The circle lit up with colour, pale and matt, the sort of light that makes itself known without offing any illumination to the surrounding world. After a few moments in the coloured circle the woman began to blink rapidly and focused her eyes on Rieven. She pushed herself up in confusion and looked around wildly, the beginnings of terror forming in the corners of her lips.
“Arishaine Padan. You come before The Seat of the Lord of Judgement this day accused. The accusations attached to your name are as follows: Abandonment of your post, desire to sow confusion and chaos within the Fourth Imperial Navy, refusal to honour lawful orders, ordering members of your own crew to create an artificial dead zone aboard their own ship while you were safely away, willing and intentional endangerment of your crew, willing and intentional endangerment of your ship, willing and intentional endangerment of your navy, desire to foment rebellion against the lawfully appointed leadership, attempted rebellion against lawfully appointed leadership, wilful and intentional undermining of military order, wilful and intentional undermining of military law, disruption of chain of command, ordering the unlawful creation of a dead zone, refusal to defend your fellow soldiers in the Fourth Imperial Navy, the unlawful sacrifice of others in defence of your own life, refusal to support your fellow soldiers in action leading to their deaths, cowardice in the face of the enemy, deceiving your superior officers with regards to the facts stated heretofore, and lastly: participating in a cabal to destroy this fleet of humanity.”
Her countenance grew more frantic with each charge. She began to panic and attempted to scream her refusal of the accusations against her. Her mouth moved, but no sounds came out. The circle nullified all sound she created, but allowed all outside sound to travel to her ears. She attempted to stand, but the gravity was locally increased within the circle each time she tried, dragging her back to the floor; the most she was permitted was to rise to her hands and knees, looking at him with fury in her eyes.
Rieven spoke again, “Ship’s Intelligence, have the accusations against Arishaine Padan been validated according to Imperial Naval Law?”
The tone sounded alerting the room’s occupants to the arrival of the Ship’s Intelligence to the conversation, “Yes, commandant Rieven, these accusations have been validated according to Imperial Naval Law. They are now entered into the log as charges.” Arishaine began screaming impotently, trying to fling herself out of the circle without success.
“Have these charges been validated according to Void Stalker Law?”
“They have, commandant Rieven. They are now entered into the log as truthful charges.”
“Then, Arishaine Padan, I am Commandant Rieven, Lord of Judgement, sitting in the Seat of the Lord of Judgement within the Hall of Judgement, and I do judge you to be guilty of the aforementioned truthful charges. Per Void Stalker Law you are hereby stripped of your noble rank. You are hereby stripped of your noble title. You are hereby stripped of your familial lands. You are hereby stripped of your familial holdings. You are hereby stripped of your personal lands. You are hereby stripped of your personal holdings. You are hereby stripped of your military rank. You are hereby dishonourably stripped from His Majesty’s Imperial Navy. Lastly, you are hereby stripped of your name. You kneel before me dyed the colour of rebirth, the colour white. You kneel before me naked as the day you were born in preparation for your rebirth in the annals of the empire. By your blood shall the stain of your actions be purged from His Majesty’s Imperial Navy.”
He nodded to master sergeant Ono, who signalled to the first squad that marched in, located on Rieven’s right and standing closest to his seat. The sergeant of the 32nd squad pointed to one of the squad members and that soldier drew a knife from a pressure plate on his forearm’s armour. He stepped forward and bowed to the standard on the wall, then turned to the woman in white, newly without name, title, family, or influence, and walked to her. He grasped the hair of her head, white with dye, and lifted it at an angle and with his other hand, drew the knife calmly across her throat. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.
Blood sprayed and pooled at his feet. He let go her hair and cleaned his knife on white square of cloth, dropped it on her corpse and returned to his place in the squad, replacing his knife as he went. Privates Dragontooth and Heavensent each grabbed an ankle and dragged her out of the hall, leaving a trail of blood, stark against the light tile, taking her to a furnace room adjacent to the Hall of Judgement where they would incinerate her body and release the ashes to the void, mixed with the leavings from every head in the ship. From there they would go to the detention level and bring up the next accused.
Rieven spoke again, “Through aggressive prejudice, death; through blood, renewal; through fire, rebirth. May this stain on our empire be removed that she may be reborn a credit in her next life.” He was silent for a moment, then he turned to master sergeant Ono.
Ono bowed to the standard formally, at a crisp ninety degrees, held it for six seconds, then turned on his heels and called to Corporal Snaptoe, “Bring forth the accused.” Private Bleat and Private Aggression dragged another accused through the door. There were two differences between this second court-marshal and the first: the second accused was an older male, and when his feet touched the bloody trail the removal of the previous accused left behind, he began to grow alert and frantic. Thankfully for Rieven’s ears, the man was dropped into the activated circle before he could utter any stupidity.
Very well, Rieven thought, we go again, and again, and again, until all stains are purged from within our ranks. Time to clean house with aggressive prejudice. Brutal and quick in an empire of dragons, while under assault by alien minds. Well, he thought, everyone must start somewhere.
