The Pardon
The following was roleplayed without much forethought beyond a few whispers between two bored roleplayers via the site’s chat system, starting on Friday, 4 December 2009, and concluding this evening, Monday, 7 December 2009.
I have taken liberties of correcting obvious spelling or grammatical errors, including some edits for style, particularly with regard to keeping a consistent past tense, and occasionally substituting an ambiguous pronoun with the proper name of a character. All actual writing, however, was written by the roleplayers, and only my own posts were fully written by myself. The actual content, dialogue, and actions expressed in each post have not been altered in any way.
The posts have been compiled from my personal logs of posts, and I have written all BBCode myself, painstakingly.
The following is a short roster of the four players whose characters participated in this spontaneous roleplay with any significant role:
admiralmcgregor – Special Agent Marlene Angel, Langaran Defense Agency; Admiral McGregor, Aschen fleet; President Richard Adar, Aschen Confederation
Ylanne – Tahira Ali (fugitive)
Terrus Ipidomin – Dakida (psychopath)
W1ck3d – Cinder (fire elemental)
Tahira Ali waved to the bartender, trying to attract as little attention as possible. "Excuse me?" she called to the bartender. "Excuse me?"
A few moments, and the bartender turned to her, shouting across the bar to be heard. "What can I get for you?"
"A - a glass of water, please. That would be appreciated." She stumbled over the English words as she spoke, her accent betraying her status as an outsider, a foreigner, and she nodded, slumping in her seat, trying her hardest to slip back into invisibility in the crowd of strange bar patrons. But Tahira Ali was not invisible; her face was plastered on the far wall and more than one here had already identified her.
She felt eyes on her as the bartender arrived with her glass of water. She thanked him and he left. Tahira Ali wrapped her fingers around the glass, staring into the water. She did not notice Liesha behind her.
Outside the bar a single black SUV would pull up, its appearance sleek and rather advanced looking. The windows were tinted dark, an almost opaque black. Beside the lone SUV, two larger black SUVs pulled up, and behind it, what appeared to be a charger-like car also pulled up, aggressive and menacing. The doors to the first SUV opened, and a blond woman clad in a black suit could be seen, dark sunglasses obscuring her face some. Worn over the suit was a combat vest of some kind, a Disruptor rifle slung over the front of the vest, and over the back of the armored vest was a large AT Fuel rod cannon.
Pushing the door to the bar open, the woman looked around. "Let's try to accomplish this mission," she said as she watched the inhabitants of the bar. Eyes would continue to idly glance about until they fell upon Tahira Ali. Narrowing her eyes only slightly, she reached down to her palm pilot and withdraw it, a holographic screen forming and then showing the woman’s picture with alien blocky-like text scrolling about. Then it flashed with a chime, and disappeared as she looked up at Tahira, approaching her, seemingly radiating government, Aschen Government.
Dakida walked over to Tahira Ali and smiled, pulling out his twice as long pistol. He loaded what looked to be a bullet into the six barreled chamber. He spun the barrel and pointed the gun at the woman asking, "Do you feel lucky?"
Ali flinched, startled, turning to regard Dakida with widened eyes. "N-no. I do not know. . I - I. . ." she stammered helplessly, unable to think of the proper English to use, as it was difficult for her to speak this language she had never truly learned. Tahira Ali blinked rapidly, when finally she registered Marlene Angel approaching her, and turned, slightly, looking up at the other woman, wondering which of them knew her, which of them intended what, and she did not know anything. "I - Is there something you also would wish of me?" asked Tahira Ali, pitch rising slightly with anxiety, her accent betraying her immediately to any who listened to her voice, for English was not her native tongue. Would she die tonight? She thought it was not the will of Providence, but how could she claim to know it.
Cinder walked over to Dakida and pulled his gun out of his hands. "You never would have noticed until you fired." She pointed it up in between his eyes, just far enough for him to look at the tip – which was melted over. She gave him a half evil smile.
Dakida laughed and said to Cinder, "It wouldn't have mattered; It’s a blank!"
Cinder’s grin widened and she tossed the gun back at him. "Like I said, I don't believe in luck. I make my own." She points her fingers into his forehead, shaped like a gun. "How lucky do you feel?" She mocked him, but at the same time was semi-serious.
Marlene was silent as she watched Dakida withdraw his pistol, and with that she would unclasp her Disruptor Rifle from its sling, and then she quietly aimed it towards him. "Put the gun down lest I intervene," Marlene warned calmly as she looked to Tahira, reading the dossier provided by the Langaran Defense Agency.
Dakida laughed as he looked at the agent. He put the gun away and moved his hands toward his sniper rifle, smirking as he didn’t care if he used the long distance weapon at close range. He pointed the gun at the special agent (Marlene) and looked at Cinder saying, "That depends on your definition of luck!" all the while laughing more.
Then Marlene stared down at Tahira. "Are you Tahira Ali?" she asked in a plain, monotone officious voice, piercing blue eyes obscured by sunglasses on Tahira, watching her carefully. Tahira Ali flinched at the sound of the name, sliding back into her seat, her fingers wrapped tightly around the glass of water, eyes down on the table, anywhere but on this woman who had spoken her name, who obviously knew who she was.
But she nodded miserably, studying the table's surface. "Yes," she said. "I am the one called Tahira Ali. Who be thou to ask of me?" And she realized, then, that she was cornered, her back to the wall in the booth, these others standing in the aisle.
"My weapon is a Type 4A Disruptor rifle. A single shot from this rifle will disrupt the very molecular bonds (thermal damage would be a secondary trait) as your cells break apart at the atomic level, while your weapon would only knock me down. If it pierces my personal defense field it will be stopped by my body armor. I suggest you back down. I have this bar surrounded." Marlene then turned to Tahira Ali. "Agent M, LDA," she said simply, wondering if that would register in the woman before her.
Cinder brought up a flame in her other hand and glared at the special agent. "You know, I really don't like guns. . ." she said to both Dakida and Marlene. Her eyes began to flicker again in the excitement and the temperature started to change in the area around all four of them.
Dakida laughed and said, "special guns for special people." As he spoke, he put the sniper rifle away saying, "If I had fired the bullet, both your supposed shield and your armor couldn't stop a single bullet of this. But I'm feeling lazy today," speaking with hopefully enough truth to back up his claim. He shook his head and continued: "I don't see why people want this woman so bad. What did she do anyway?"
LDA. LDA. Ali’s eyes narrowed slightly, trying to recall why it sounded familiar, but her mind would not retrieve the desired information, and so she shook her head slowly, her hands falling from the side of the glass to the surface of the table, rough and worn beneath her fingers. Tahira Ali looked up, then, at Dakida, a small frown crossing her face, her gaze sliding back to Marlene. "I know not LDA. Is there something you wish of me?"
"Tahira Ali, LDA stands for the Langaran Defense Agency. You're charged with Assassination, Conspiracy to Commit Heinous Acts, Destabilization of Law and Order, and Conspiracy to Incite Uprising. You cannot escape; you are surrounded," Marlene said as she stared down at Tahira. "These are crimes not to be taken lightly; they are punishable by life at the Ne'tu penal colony, or even the death penalty. Now stand up, get on your knees, hands behind your head and cross your ankles: you're under arrest," Marlene said plainly.
Langaran Defense Agency. It sounded familiar then, LDA for Langaran Defense Agency. Could it be - would the Aschen have tracked her here, and to make this arrest, her arrest? Tahira Ali stared blankly up at the agent, words all registering with her several moments after they would have with any ordinary, English speaking individual, for she did not speak English well. Her brow knitted in concern, and she narrowed her eyes slightly, shaking her head.
"I - I have done none of these things," she said, rising slowly from where she was seated. Even at full height, the woman agent stood at least a head over her, and Tahira Ali was forced to look up to meet her eyes with her own emotionless ones. "I know not of what you speak; I did not commit these crimes, as you say. What do the Aschen want with me? What justice might I find in your courts?" She shook her head again, her frown deepening. Who exactly was this woman who called herself Agent M?
"There is overwhelming video and genetic evidence to the contrary," Marlene said, still keeping her eyes on Tahira. "If you did not commit these crimes, then you submit to a genetic test and standard LDA questioning," she said plainly as she withdrew a set of binders, and then a small penny-sized pill-like device. "I have a video recording as well as eyewitness accounts, and your fingerprints were on the murder weapon," she said clearly. "You shot president Vallis that day."
"I. . . genetic. . ." Ali shook her head helplessly, not thinking to wonder how they had her fingerprints on file. "This I do not understand. But I tell you, I tell you it surely was not I. . . if I did this, would I not remember? Why would I have reason to speak anything but the truth?" She sighed, looking left and right, eyes noticing the wanted poster and her image for the first time, but she said nothing. "Whatever it is you wish to ask of me, ask. The truth is clear. I think I do not know this President Vallis."
Marlene simply shook her head as she stared at Tahira. "You'll remember. Believe me when I say that," she said, as two more agents walked inside, stepping to either side of Tahira. "Take her back to the Frigate, process her, and we'll question her when I have returned." She then looked to Tahira as one of the agents spoke.
"Stand up, hands behind your head," the agent said as he moved to cuff her. The LDA agents locked the binders on her wrists and then led her out the front door, to the SUV waiting outside, and all the while, Tahira Ali thought only of what might be truth, and what not, for she did not know what the LDA wanted to hear - that she had killed this man, perhaps. The woman's words she did not forget. Tahira Ali closed her eyes for a moment. Why did she think she might escape her sins? It was a fool's folly. She could not forget, and others would never dare.
The SUV drove for quite some time, making its way through the streets of the city. Its interior was a black leather and vinyl finish, with an assortment of electronic equipment visible towards the driver’s side of the SUV. The agents inside said nothing. Behind the SUV Tahira was in, Marlene's SUV could be seen. Soon all the vehicles stopped close to a large empty field, where three large depressions could be seen in the grass, but there seemed to be nothing save for the occasional shimmer.
Tahira was kept in the very back seat of the SUV, a glass barrier separating her from the other agents. Soon the SUV came to a stop in this field, as did Marlene's SUV. Doors opened and an agent slid a keycard through the door Tahira was kept behind. With the click of the lock unlatching, they helped her out as the large, bulky ship decloaked, revealing three large engines and a rather lengthy body, colored steely iron and trimmed with red and orange.
There was a phoenix emblem on the side and the letters "Langaran Defense Agency" under the emblem. A few more moments and there was a deafening hiss as a large platform descended from the bottom of the ship, the two SUVs driving onto the platform while Tahira was escorted by two agents, with Marlene behind her, onto the platform. The door hissed again as it slowly began to raise itself into the belly of the vessel.
Two of the LDA agents led her onto the platform, and they walked onto the ship; all the meanwhile, Tahira Ali gaped at its sheer vastness, the body of the ship extending longer than several football fields end to end, itself unlike anything she had ever seen. Then they were inside, and the platform they had ascended rose to disappear cleanly into the side of the ship. The Langaran Defense Agency knew who she was, she thought with grim fascination. They knew who she was and they knew what she had done. How else to explain that Agent M had sought her?
The agents continued to lead Tahira through the large hangar bay. Rows of black SUVs were parked in special slots in the hangar bay. Above them were fighter craft hung upon special cranes. There were combat vehicles, APCs, and even armored vehicles such as tanks. This ship carried enough vehicles and personnel to carry out a small military operation. There were orbital drop pods, and racks upon racks of various advanced directed energy weapons.
Once they emerged from the hangar bay, the agents led Tahira through a hexagonal shaped corridor. The floor was a steely metal that clanked under their footsteps. Above them were bright fluorescent lights. Turning around a corner, a set of cells greeted Tahira. They were completely unfurnished, with absolutely nothing inside. A thick glass wall and door acted as bars. A harsh, bright light illuminated the cells. The walls were a stainless steel and the floor a Teflon coated black.
With a hiss the cell door slid open, and Tahira was led inside, where she was shackled to a small metal loop in the center of the cell. Marlene entered the cell and stood over Tahira with a rather thick folder in her hand. Two more agents walked inside and stood behind the prisoner. The shackles would allow her to move freely, but she had a leash of chain secured to the center metal loop.
Marlene promptly threw the file down onto the floor and gently unraveled the twine that secured it shut. Then she opened it up, revealing an LDA dossier of Tahira Ali, everything the agency had collected on her, as Marlene spoke. "As you can see. . . we've had our eye on you for quite some time now. . . Ms. Ali, you were born on Terra, in the Middle East. . . you're a known murderer, and all around terrorist, on the flip side you conduct yourself as a weak old woman. Two lives. . .one of these lives has a future. . . the other does not."
Tahira Ali stood silently, chained to the floor of the stark cell, empty but for the three LDA agents and herself. The others towered over her in height, Agent M by nearly a ruler's length. For a moment, she was transported back to her last year of secondary school, the top form, graduation day, a midget among her classmates, made tiny and invisible in the sea of people. She was invisible then. Tahira Ali was not invisible now, and to imagine it to be so would have been nothing but a lie.
She watched as Agent M opened a thick file, displaying hundreds of documents, many with her own name written on them, listening to the woman's calm, methodical English, the words hard to understand, and she furrowed her brow in concentration, listening to the words to understand them. "I have but one life," she said, words spoken slowly, to be sure of the pronunciation, "and I conduct myself as befits what I am. Whatever future there be for me, it is the will of Providence." She looked at the floor as she spoke, out of respect.
"And this life does not have a future," Marlene said as she flipped through the pages of the file. "Not only did you assist in bombing the Gemenon Prefectural Capital building, but you shot President Vallis! And you don't remember?" She asked, her voice still calm. "Hrm.." She then looked up as an older woman in a suit, wearing thick black glasses entered the cell, rolling a cart with a large red box on the top. With a flick of her fingers, Marlene unlatched the locks that secured the crate shut. With another swift motion, she pulled it open, revealing various highly sophisticated torture devices, from pain sticks to neural interface devices.
Reaching in, Marlene pulled out a device no bigger around then an American dime, and no thicker than maybe two or three millimeters. With another swift motion she pressed the small device against Ali's temple. It emitted an electronic buzz as it drove some kind of pin through the skin and bone directly into the brain. It was completely harmless, but rather painful.
"There we go. Maybe this will jog your memory," she said as she ran a pen-like instrument over the small device, then attached it to a fiber-optic cable hooked up to a holographic screen that projected from the cart. This particular instrument was designed to encourage memory recall, and display the memories so retrieved on the screen, as a live video feed. "Now, all you need to do is to try and remember. You won't be able to lie to me this way. I can see into your mind through this screen," Marlene said, her voice still monotone and methodical.
Ali winced, a sudden sensation of pain as a needle of some sort stabbed through her skull into her brain tissue, the woman agent's words now distant, and she blinked several times, listening to understand what she said. "I - I might remember only what can be remembered," she said, her voice soft, uncertain, for she was uncertain of everything she said to this stranger.
Ali closed her eyes, bowing her head, remembering at once the dead eyes of Vallis, the man whose name she had not known until that night, for when the agent had said it, she knew that the name belonged to him, and the fiery eyes of Father Sebastian who directed her school, St. Mary's Mother of Hope. . . the eyes were a window into the soul, especially in a man's dying moments. She remembered her aunt telling her this, in the dark kitchen on a warm summer afternoon, the sounds of children playing outside in the street. . . Ali closed her eyes and she remembered, and she said, "This man, I know."
"He served the people of this great Confederation right until his dying breath," Marlene said as she scrolled through the information on the screen. "You have had an interesting past," she said, her tone still monotone and methodical, sunglasses obscuring her gaze as she adjusted her glasses. She then began to interface with the screen. "And now that we have the evidence of the assassination, we can proceed to try and convict you," she said as she then took a breath. "Under Aschen law you have no rights because you are a foreigner; however, I will offer you two choices: you can have a trial by jury, or I can pass judgment, right here, right now" Marlene said bluntly.
"The Aschen and I have nothing to do one with the other. Am I not subject to your power now?" Tahira Ali looked up then at the woman agent, whose eyes were obscured behind sunglasses, almost as if she were afraid. But she knew better. "What would you have done? What do you will? Want me dead, gone, do you not? I hold no power on this world, or indeed on any other. You may judge me; your courts may judge me; but I know that God will judge me, and then, not one of my sins will be hidden, for my soul will stand naked."
"You will stand before Zeus; you're gods damned right. I will judge you; Zeus will judge you; and you will stand before Hades in Tartarus," Marlene said, narrowing her eyes. Then she reached up, her hand clasping the sunglasses. She pulled them from her face, folding them up and sliding them into her pocket, revealing blue eyes. As eyes were windows to the soul, Tahira might see a struggling soul, one that needed acceptance in a very traditional and xenophobic culture. She might see a mother in the woman's eyes, though this window would be brief as Marlene turned.
"You still deny these charges against you. . . I saw President Vallis in your memories. Everything you know was evident before me; I know everything you know; I could see your mind – all your sins, your past, everything – and you still deny my charge? Why?" She asked, turning back to face Tahira.
Tahira Ali remembered the piercing guilt, the suffocating shame, the sorrow unmatched by any other she had known, the look on her aunt's face, condemning her without ever having spoken a word, the stifling desert heat, the burning desire to crawl into a hole and die, for she knew exactly what she had done, and that no ritual or sacrament would cleanse the blood from her hands.
Ali watched the woman agent, the slight change of inflection, the eyes revealing the humanity of a woman not unlike herself, for did not both harbor inherent desire to love and to be loved, and did not both carry within them hidden pain and sorrow? Her own eyes revealed nothing, she had been told, but the pervasive sorrow that never left. She remembered, and she suffered. Her penance lay in that she knew what she was, and she lived with that knowledge.
She remembered kind words, whispered condolences, murmured promises, fleeting smiles, steaming rice on the kettle, the fragrance of sweet jasmine, sitting beneath the shade of the grapevine, the self-assurance and pride in her own work when for the first time she saw an A on a math test.
She remembered the unbridled fury, the rage that drowned her in a sea of red, the cruel, callous revenge exacted against one who was only trying to protect what was dear to him, who wanted nothing less than security for the people of his nation, for Ánár Tynan was already Mutalistan, revolution the spirit of the day she fled her homeland.
And she looked up at the woman agent and she nodded, and she said, "I do not deny that I killed Vallis, for I know now who this man was. I deny what else you have said, for whatever else it is you think I have done, I tell you was done not by my hand or word. Have I any reason to speak anything but the truth? You know who I am; to lie is a sin. The truth is unchanging." She plead with her eyes.
Standing over her, Marlene shook her head. "This is all I needed to see." She then flicked the screen off, and with a flash the video disappeared. She then touched the pen-like instrument to the memory recall device, which emitted another buzz as the pin retracted, and Marlene removed the device. "It's honorable that you show remorse for your actions, but it does not change what is done. . .You are a wanted woman Tahira," she said as she slid the device back into the case and her hands moved to close it. "The Aschen have a five hundred thousand credit bounty on you, one I am not ready to let slide through my fingertips. We will take you to Langara; there you will face trial by a jury," Marlene said as she turned to the glass cell door.
With a loud hiss it opened. She then walked out of the cell to leave Tahira alone to think. The two agents followed Marlene out. Once they were out of sight, there was a whine followed by a buzz, a very small window visible to the outside. The ship then jerked and bucked slightly as it began to lift off. Tahira Ali watched as the agents left, leaving her alone, the cell empty but for her. She sank to her knees, the chains clinking against each other, and covered her face with her hands. The woman agent was right. The past could not be changed. Nothing she said or did, nothing she felt or wanted, could ever change what had already been done. Her sins could be paid for only with blood.
Could she pray? Could she pray and expect mercy? No god she could imagine would have mercy on her, not for what she had done. There would be no mercy, and she did not expect it, for what did she deserve? Ali sat still for the longest time, unmoving, wondering what judgment the Langaran jury might pass against her. When she finally looked up, hands falling to her knees, her cheeks were wet.
The ship continued to lift off from the ground, gaining more and more altitude. Indeed, Tahira Ali would be judged by a Langaran jury. Soon jerking and rumbling turned to a completely smooth journey as blue sky darkened and turned to the blackness of space. The angle of the ship beheld the sun shining through the window, directly onto a crying Tahira, the dust showing a faint outline of the sunlight as the ship began its course. Low humming echoed through the vents, cool dry air blown into the cell.
An uncertain future was at hand for Tahira. Marlene had seen her humanity shine through. President Adar also saw the video feeds once they were transmitted, unbeknownst to Tahira, she would most likely not spend the rest of her days on an Aschen penal colony, nor would she face the Airlock or Firing squad, it was uncertain what a Jury would select, or if she was to be punished at all by them.
Soon there was a dizzying distortion, as if the ground and the walls were tilting and stretching, and then a lapse, and everything oriented itself. Rather than Terra, an entirely different planet appeared, though much like Earth, with various ships coming and going from this planet. There were space stations and even entire battle platforms orbiting, all while the ship began to rumble and shake once more as it began its descent.
The sun was warm, bright, not unlike the sun of her youth, the desert sun she had grown accustomed to, its warmth at once an embrace and a warning. She looked up, the sun kissing her face with its light through the window, but did not move in another way, wondering distantly what her future might hold. She made her choices, she made a thousand choices each moment, and here, she knew her choices would not change her future. Ali looked out through the window, and she saw a new planet, the space around it filled with satellite ships, the ship she was on trembling, her chains sliding against one another.
She watched with unbridled curiosity, then, not knowing this world, and fascinated by it, for its beauty from space, as it grew closer, until it filled the view, and Ali knew that this odyssey was only beginning. What the future might hold, she did not know, nor dare to speculate. But she hoped, somewhere inside, that there might be mercy yet.
The ship continued its descent, rumbling and shaking even more, its speed increasing slightly as it continued to descend. The black of space soon turned to blue sky, growing brighter and brighter, and then there was a jerk as the ship came to a sudden stop, another jerk as the landing gear touched the tarmac. Then there was silence.
Tall gleaming skyscrapers towered above, seemingly of a human, yet futuristic and alien design. Several moments passed by and the agents walked back into the cell block, a hiss heard as the door opened up, Marlene seen standing in front of two LDA agents. "Let's go," she said as she motioned to the hallway, agents stepping in and unlatching Tahira's shackles and motioning for her to step out of the cell. They then led her through the halls of the ship until they were back on that same elevator platform. With a mechanical clunk, it descended, pure pine scented air filling the hangar as the wind blew it in.
It was a cold Sagittaron day. But Langara was a cold planet in general, the temperature today would be in the low fifties and it would be slightly breezy. Marlene looked around as the wind whipped her hair around, the air was pure, completely devoid of any pollution, and the sky a deep blue, buildings towering over them as Marlene led her to the waiting black SUV.
Ali stood when the agents returned, following them to the same elevator platform, but when they emerged onto Langara, Ali felt immediately out of place, the chilly weather and biting wind whipping at her hair and robes unlike the desert she was accustomed to, shivering as they walked from the ship to the SUV, identical to the other one. Looking around, she saw a vast city with towers reaching for the sky, an alien world, foreign, but not unlike the city she had grown up in.
For in all cities, were there not the poor, the hungry, the lonely, those who sought adventure, and those who ran from it? Were there not politicians and police, clerics and revolutionaries, hospitals and universities? In all cities, there were people, and all people shared at least this in common - the desire to love and to be loved. She thought that not every man would know it or think of it, but Ali was certain it was true. For her, at least, she knew it was. To Marlene, she said, "Where are we?", squinting in the sunlight.
"Sagittaron, capital of the Sagittaria prefecture. It’s also the capital city of the Aschen Confederation,” Marlene said as Tahira was led into the black SUV. Once she was inside, the driver keyed the ignition. The engine turned over with a high pitched whine; it was not gasoline powered. Hitting the acceleration pedal, the SUV pulled out of the base, and onto one of the wide opened streets, which was somewhat littered with traffic, cars of all shapes and sizes. Some of them wheeled, while others hovered a few feet off the ground. Police cars, their white color, trimmed with red and blue could also be seen. People crowded the sidewalks on this cold blustery day, the homeless and children also milling about as the scenery passed them.
Soon the SUV was on an overpass, a gap in the buildings heralding a bay, the water a sparkling blue in color, clean. The trees that lined the other side of the bay were evergreens. The mountains that the city was nestled in were tall and jagged, covered with evergreen trees. This world was still somewhat geologically young, its snow-capped tall, jagged mountains carpeted in evergreens – pines, cedars, and firs - giving it a verdant look. Just as they passed another large skyscraper, Marlene turned to Tahira. "What do you think of our planet?" she asked, trying to strike up conversation.
Tahira Ali watched through the windows of the SUV, the scenery beautiful, like the word paintings of Rumi, landscapes exquisite with untainted pristine quality, the mountains bringing memories of a field trip trek up the mountains to the north of Mutalistan, travels elsewhere. "It is beautiful," she murmured to the woman agent, enthralled by the sights. "Your world is beautiful."
The SUV continued on its course as it weaved its way through the city. Soon they came up before a large building, towering into the sky like the others. It was built in a distinctly Grecian style and appeared much older than the other buildings in the city. Once the SUV came to a stop, Marlene stepped out, followed by her fellow agents. Leading Tahira up the marble steps up towards large glass doors, they made their way through the building, riding an elevator several stories up.
Soon they were greeted by large oak doors, which, once they were opened, revealed a middle aged bald man sitting at a desk. Behind him was an emblem, a phoenix motif with the words "Seal of the President of the Aschen Confederation of Planets." Eyes slowly turned upward as he finished reading Ali’s dossier. "So you're the woman who shot President Vallis twenty years ago," he said as he put his glasses on. "You don't look like a murderer."
Tahira Ali looked up at the President, who was taller than her, even though she was standing and he seated. She did not meet his eyes, looking instead at his chin, standing straight, chained hands folded. "Whose appearance should match his character? No man may look on the outside as what he is inside." She spoke softly, slowly, the words a lilting cadence, the clipped Arabic accent tainting the English. Ali thought there might be some mistake, for the seal on the wall was of the President of the Aschen Confederation, who must be a powerful man, and she, she thought, a nobody.
"Tell me of the events that day. I can save your life, or I can sign your death warrant, right here, right now," the president said as he motioned to the papers before him. "I want to know motive. . .why?" His pen tapped the paper. "Marlene told me you showed remorse for your crime. . . and asked for a presidential pardon. . . I'm tempted to send you to a prison world, or even place you on trial. . .” The president tapped his pen, an awkward silence filling the room.
Tahira Ali knew then it was no mistake that she was here. This man before her was the President of the Aschen Confederation, though she did not know his name, and the woman agent, the one called Agent M, was called Marlene, a name at once beautiful and strange to hear after the events of the past hour or so – she was not certain of the time.
Ali did not know whether this man had been sent as her salvation or her condemnation, but she listened to his words, and half-turned, regarding Marlene as if with new eyes, now knowing the woman agent had interceded, asking for a pardon on her behalf. The truth was the important thing now. God would do with her what he willed.
“It was long ago, that and the many other things,” she said, turning back to the President, sighing as she spoke, her voice pained, the words themselves pronounced carefully, with small mistakes. “There was one. . . one whom I loved, do love, who once loved me also. . . I thought it would hurt him most, for his was a guiding principle of justice, and he too led in the same way that this Vallis did. . . I was right. What I have done hurt him more than my words ever might have.”
“I never considered. . . but now I understand more than I ever might have imagined, what has passed because of what I have done. . . too many lie dead by my hand, and at the time all I thought of was this one man! I left behind grieving families, not the least mine own, which to this day mourns my life. . . there will be no celebration of my life when it should end.” Ali paused, looking at the desk, the papers on the President’s desk. “You have asked, hadrat, and I your servant have answered.”
President Adar was silent, listening carefully as he adjusted his glasses. The small plaque on his desk read "Richard Adar", and in smaller text, "President of the Aschen Confederation." Adar spoke up, then. "Our society is that of forgiveness. Thomas Zarek, a well respected Sire, was a convicted terrorist. He was young and rebellious much like you were at one point, but today he serves as a most Honorable Sire residing over the beautiful prefecture of Sagittaria, and as a Sire in the house of Parliament. There is the capacity for people to change. Consider this a turning point in your life."
He then let the pen scratch on the paper before him. "A full presidential pardon of all crimes against the Aschen Confederation of planets," Adar said, sliding the paper towards Ali. "Present this to all who seek you, as we have treaties with the US and most world governments. When presented to a high authority of said governments, they will follow," he explained. "However, I ask that you do only good from now on. Help your fellow man, seek forgiveness for your sins and repent.”
“But if I learn you have committed further crimes. . ." Taking a breath, Adar paused. "You will find yourself in the cross-hairs of a sniper taking his lucky shot." He then folded his hands on his desk. "May the Lords of Kobol guide you on the path of righteousness, go now. . .and do good."
Marlene then nodded. "With this you will be returned to Terra aboard the Pious Inquisitor, when Admiral McGregor makes his run to Tal'dor. You'll get a chance to meet my son," she said as Adar nodded.
"Dismissed," said President Adar. And with that, Marlene touched a device to Tahira's shackles, and with a buzz they released, falling to the ground. Ali listened in shocked silence as President Adar spoke, the English words difficult to understand at the speed he was speaking, but the mercy he was offering utterly undeserved. She knew if it were anyone else, any other man or woman, she would never have been the recipient of such a gift of grace, for Ali knew that was what she had been forgiven by. The grace her aunt had taught her of had always been meaningless and abstract, but she thought she now could glimpse the wonder or the grace Solara had proclaimed.
When the shackles were released, Ali felt some invisible burden lift from her shoulders, and she stood straighter, looking up at the president. "I - I cannot say enough to thank you," she stammered, words now nearly lost upon her. "These past twenty year, all I have done I have done and said in the hopes that I might offer some penance for my sins. . . You have - you have given me a gift I thought I could never receive."
Ali bowed slightly, hand over her heart, before she took the paper, clutching it between her fingers. Then she turned to Marlene, prepared to leave President Adar's office. She thought that all this time, she had been pretending to be good, trying in vain to forget her sins, but now, now she felt that this man had given her permission to be good. To be, and not to pretend. For it had been said before that each man is defined by his choices. And she chose - and she chose to do good.
"Let us depart." Marlene said as she signaled to the door. "You have been given a grand pardon, an Aschen presidential pardon is very rare, but very powerful, for one to receive such an honor at the hands of a nation such as this, it generally applies to all whom seek you." Marlene explained as she led Tahira through the halls, and soon they were heading down an elevator. "I would have not interceded on your behalf had I not read your more recent reports, but the path is always, indefinite." She explained as the elevator came to a stop.
With a pleasant chime the doors opened. Marlene then motioned to the lobby. "Would you care for something to eat before we depart? Personally I am quite famished. I've been running on fumes for quite some time," she explained as they stepped outside. Instead of a black SUV waiting for them, it was a dark red luxury sedan. "From here we will proceed to the spaceport, where you can go back home with Admiral McGregor," Marlene explained, motioning to the sedan. "This way."
Tahira Ali followed Marlene through the halls of the government building, outside, blinking in the sun. She looked up, the sun burning into her eyes with its brightness, then back down, focusing on the dark red sedan. "If you so desire," she said, "I would join you. But I have no means to pay for foodstuffs, for I have no money." Ali's hand rested on the door to the passenger side of the sedan, and she looked up at Marlene's face. "And I would not wish to impose upon you, especially not. . . not after what you have done for - for me." She wondered, but didn't ask, what the 'recent reports' on her own self had contained, but said nothing of it.
The dark red sedan seemed to have no one inside. Marlene slowly climbed into the driver’s seat of the sedan and slid a card like device into what seemed to be the ignition switch. There was a whine as well as a pleasant crystalline chime as the car turned on, its LCD dashboard gauges coming online in full color, showing everything from system status to reactor and engine temperature. Marlene turned to Tahira. "All right; we'll go straight to the spaceport then," she said as she put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking spot that the sedan was parked in. Pulling out into traffic, Marlene looked around as she tried to weave through traffic. "I'm still going to get something on the way to the spaceport," she explained as she pulled out onto the highroad, the city now in full view as the sun began to slowly set out onto the bay.
Ali climbed awkwardly inside the sedan, not having ridden in a car often before, and sunk into the seat, curious at the LCD display, but soon entranced by the sights of the city. Never had she seen such a majestic city, with a sweeping skyline, and the hubbub of commerce expanding ever-outward to include many more millions of people than she had ever imagined in one place. Indeed, the city of her childhood, was significantly smaller, with no buildings but the churches and mosques rising more than perhaps ten stories tall into the sky.
"Whatever you desire," said Ali, the words more murmured than spoken, turned toward the window, her wide eyes taking in all the sights of the city, the aureate sunset painting the skies brilliantly, with such vivid color as she had never imagined. . . the sight was nearly identical to the desert sunsets she had oft watched when a child, sitting outside on the hot sand, and for the briefest of moments, the nostalgia brought a tear to her eye.
The roads seemed to be smooth. Maybe it was the slightly better suspension that the car had provided, or the smooth, finished roads. Turning around a hairpin that seemed to follow the trace of the bay's shoreline, Marlene pulled off on an exit, pulling through a drive through. She placed her orders, two servings of what appeared to be Gyros. With one in hand, she idly munched on it as she pulled back onto the highroad, the car moving at rather fast speeds with the rest of the traffic. Soon they pulled up onto the spaceport, civilian liners coming and going, their engines roaring in the skies as they took off and landed.
Bringing the car to a stop, Marlene pushed the door open and stared up at the darkening sky, the city's lights coming on one by one. The bright streetlights burned their high-current LED bulbs, which gave off a bright white, almost bluish tinted light and illuminated the streets quite well. By the time they had reached the spaceport, it was dark out, neon, LED, and halogen lights illuminating the city rather brilliantly.
Marlene stepped out of the sedan as she handed one of the Gyros to Tahira. "Here, this is where we will part. You will ride with Admiral McGregor back to Terra. So long as you hold onto that pardon, no one will seek you," she explained. "Farewell."
Ali nodded to Marlene, standing outside, holding the gyro in one hand, the pardon in the other, and she bowed her head slightly. "Shukran jazelan," she said, the Arabic words luscious, and then she translated for the other woman. "Thank you very much. For everything. Ma'saalema. Go in safety." She gave a small, sad smile, a slight upturning of the lips, and then she dematerialized into the transporter, appearing several moments later on the bridge of the Pious Inquisitor.
Ali looked around herself, the darkness of the ship not absolute in the way the darkness of the desert night is utterly black, the ship's itself in some ways like the one they had transported her on to Langara from Gambit's, but it was not the same. And there, standing on the other end of the bridge, was a young man, taller than her by a ruler's length, blonde hair framing a thin face. The Admiral, she thought, the son of Marlene. Her hand over her heart, the pardon tucked away, she gave a slight bow. "Hadrat, Admiral McGregor," she said.
"Shal kek nim ron." Raphael said, inclining his head slightly. "Welcome aboard the AHSC Pious Inquisitor, flagship of the 3rd Task Force," Raphael explained as a female figure appeared before them, her form was somewhat translucent and a purple hue as Raphael spoke. "Aiyanna, set a course for Terra, FTL."
The figure then nodded. "By your command." And then she vanished as Raphael spoke.
"It should just be a few moments before we commence the jump." He said as he turned to face a set of 3d holograms. "Though the Confederation will no longer seek you, I recommend you tread lightly. That is a pardon, not a granting of asylum. I will do my best to oversee your safety, and ensure you're released when the FBI captures you," he explained, just as there was a distortion, followed by a lapse as Raphael inclined his head and extended his hand. "We shall beam down," he said as a bright light engulfed the two of them.
"Whatever is done, I am grateful for; I do not deserve the grace I have been given," she said to the Admiral. Ali then took the Admiral's hand, and they dematerialized, appearing again in the side alley outside the bar, Gambit's glowing sign visible but two doors down. It was nighttime; only two hours had passed, and the moon was high in the sky. Ali released the Admiral's hand and then turned to him. "Again, Hadrat, I thank you. Go in safety." And she nodded.
"This will not be the last time we cross paths. The Aschen Embassy is just down the street. If you run into trouble, and are unable to find Aschen personnel, head there, and they will ensure your safety." Raphael then inclined his head one more time. "Ya duru arik kek onac," he said, a rough translation of 'Go fourth with honor.' And he promptly vanished in a bright white light, leaving Ali with her pardon and gyro in hand.
