How rare was it for a person being persecuted in this court to be treated in such a way, especially when the person in question is Border-born?
Many of the officers asked themselves. If the judge was acting this way, then it truly meant that the Imperial Palace had its attention on this case.
But why?
They couldn't help but wonder.
Some of them looked at the palanquin and leaned forward in anticipation, while others were still stuck on the thought of the Imperial Palace getting involved in this case.
"The first option is… You will accept the charge on your record and face an immediate demotion by two ranks. In addition, you'll be required to report weekly to the Regional Compliance Office for psychological evaluations.
For the next eight months, you must attend three therapy sessions each week, conducted by an RCO-assigned clinician. These sessions will be audio-video recorded, transcribed, and documented, and then reviewed monthly by your commanding officer.
The cost of therapy will be deducted from your salary—alongside a formal reduction in pay that is commensurate with the rank demotion. All privileges associated with your current rank will be revoked the moment you accept this option. "
Marcus's frown only got deeper.
The first option was a thorn disguised as an olive branch, one that he could cling to, sure, perhaps even survive with, but not without bleeding. It was a way out, but a painful one.
Even the prosecutor and his own defense attorney seemed to recognize the weight of it. Harsh as it was, it still stood a step above the permanence of a cold prison cell… or the finality of a death sentence.
For people like them—those not born into the shelter of a powerful name—life began with a disadvantage. In the Empire, only a handful of professions offered a ladder out of obscurity, and nearly all of them ran through the corridors of the government.
And for the ambitious, desire alone was never enough. Their ambition has to come with an armor—either in the form of inherited wealth, or a formal rank bestowed by the Empire… or a power that could rival the Empire.
As for Marcus, he spent his youth striving to become someone the Empire could value—a man shaped by discipline, purpose, and ambition. His climb through the ranks wasn't just for personal pride; it was for his siblings too.
Becoming an officer had changed everything for them. He had pulled his family out of the slums, from the borders of the First Ring, and into the city, where clean water flowed, and futures could be built. His sisters now attended proper schools, the type that offered the kind of safety and stability his path had never known.
If I decide to pick this option and my rank is demoted, the discounts I get on their school fees will go alongside my rank… with my salary reduced too, and the therapy cost, I might have to take out a huge loan if I want to keep things afloat. Marcus thought.
The judge watched as Marcus's eyes darted from side to side, silently weighing this option.
"As for the second option… You will retain your current rank, but this charge will remain on your permanent record. In recognition of your recent service, a commendation bonus will be issued. Additionally, your name will be added to the list of candidates under consideration for recruitment into the Imperial Palace.
However, restrictions will apply. You will be prohibited from entering within one hundred yards of the First Ring for a period of three years. During this time, you will be redeployed to a designated military barracks within the Second Ring.
Failure to comply with any part of the arrangement will result in immediate enforcement of a death sentence—without appeal or delay."
Upon hearing the second option, several officers instinctively shook their heads. A few of them cast sidelong glances at Marcus, with their eyes marked with something between pity and resignation.
"So, Officer Marcus Black, what will be your decision? I can give you a few minutes to think about it. As for the others…"
Suddenly, Sir Besimount's stomach twisted and his heartbeat surged in his chest. He shot up to his feet, sending his chair clattering on the floor behind him. Then he froze, rigid, as if his mind had been yanked into some unseen realm.
The officers nearby said nothing as fear pinned them in place. Those seated closest to him shifted away instinctively widening the space between themselves and the afflicted, as though whatever gripped him might spread.
Several seconds passed before Sir Besimount could move. Then, without warning, he collapsed to his knees and let out a violent, blood-laced cough from his throat.
"I have overseen the procedures concerning his case, fairly," The Judge intoned, the voice still devoid of any emotion. "But if I were to do the same for you, Besimount Bale, it would mean signing your death order. To insult a senior officer while serving in uniform—some might consider that treason. It should not happen again. I have tendered your case with mercy."
A faint breeze stirred the air, as though carrying the words of the Judge on its back. Behind it were Besimount's ragged, wheezing breaths that sent chills down the spines of almost everyone in the courtroom.
No one in the courtroom spoke a word, nor did they allow themselves to even breathe too loudly, in fear that they would annoy the persona within the palanquin.
As for Marcus, for the umpteenth time since his arrival in the courtroom, his mind wasn't there. He was trying to figure out what option would be best for him.
The first seems to be the better option… It's also the safest, however, I would be reduced to nothing but a starting officer and would have to climb up the ranks again. With this charge on my record, my image will be tainted, and gaining promotion will be several times harder than it already is.
A few minutes went by and the Judge spoke; "Officer Marcus Black, what will be your decision?"
Everyone looked at Marcus, already feeling that they knew what his answer would be.
The first option obviously. No one in their right mind would throw their life away in the Second Ring. It's just a few ranks—he's young. He can still climb his way back. He seems sharp enough. Isaac Trent reasoned.
His thoughts matched the silent consensus in the courtroom.
"I choose…" Marcus paused.
"The second option, Your Honor." Though his voice was steady with resolve, his gaze was locked onto the curtains of the palanquin, with his eyes burning with an unmistakable anger.
His response surprised everyone in the room…
Even Isaac was already getting up to shout an objection, but then he quickly recalled that it wasn't his place to interfere in this matter. He glanced at Sir Besimount whose head had turned red from all the coughing and was slowly recovering.
Isaac sat down in defeat.
"Let it be on record that the defendant has chosen to prove his innocence by serving the Empire better. You are to leave the First Ring in the next twelve hours, as failure to do so would automatically mean a death sentence. Where you will be redeployed will be sent to you in a few hours.
"Court dismissed!"