The Trial

Gallus wore his finest suit. It was a suit of old Earth design, double-breasted, with a long crimson tie. On top of this he wore his father's old coat. It was long and thin, almost reaching his knees and lacking the radiation lining most Martian clothing had. But a small dose of radiation mattered little to a man as far gone as he, and wearing the old coat gave him a strange sense of comfort.

Donald stood next to him, wearing his normal street clothes, utterly defiant of the court and what it stood for. Things went about as well as Donald had expected them to. Grotto put on quite the show, claiming to be a compassionate boss, wrongly assaulted by one of his own employees. He painted Donald and Gallus out as dangerous and mentally unhinged, and the judge ate every word of it up.

Gallus was eventually allowed to speak, and presented his small amounts of evidence. His pictures of the canisters, his oxygen detector readings and the strange numbers he found in the administration's computer system. The judge did listen intently to him, but did not seem particularly moved or convinced by his words.

Donald refused to speak at all, allowing Gallus to talk for the both of them. He was completely convinced of the trial's outcome, and saw little point in arguing. This frustrated Gallus greatly, but he tried his best to present his case to the judge and expose Grotto's wrongdoing. There was a jury present as well, but on Mars, their vote only counted to "advise" the judge. The judge's decision and punishment were essentially arbitrary; one of the many pitfalls of the Martian justice system.

After a few hours, the court adjourned for lunch. As the two condemned men ate, Gallus tried to speak about the trial. "It doesn't seem like it's going that bad for us." Gallus mused. "I think we might have a shot." Donald sighed. "I'm sorry, but no, we don't. They're going to play the video of you attacking Grotto, and it's going to be over for us." Gallus' heart sank. He had forgotten about the video of his assault.

Gallus winced but tried to remain hopeful. "Maybe it won't look too brutal." Donald shook his head. "Have you watched it Gallus?" "No." Gallus admitted. "Well," Donald said. "It's bad. It's really bad. You look like a feral fucking animal, but you'll see it for yourself soon enough." Gallus eventually did see the video, and Donald was right; he did not like what he saw.

The clip from his wrist device showed him flailing out at Grotto, screaming and cursing the entire time. To the judge and jury, he definitely came off as dangerous and insane. After Grotto's legal team finished playing the clip, Gallus could do little more than just sit in his chair despondently. He had no comeback for that. The video ended before Grotto's men roughed him up, and to anyone watching he surely looked to be the one at fault.

They adjourned for a few more hours, and the pair mostly sat in silence. "What do you think they'll do to us?" Gallus eventually asked nervously. Donald shrugged. "We're far from capital punishment, friend, but it'll be something severe for sure. They might offer us a deal though." Gallus raised an eyebrow. "What kind of deal?" Donald rubbed his hands together. "I dunno, maybe hard labor or service in a penal legion. But a lot of people don't survive hard labor, and even less people survive the penal legions."

"What makes the penal legions so bad?" Gallus asked. "Well," Donald began. "Most of them are out deep in the asteroid belt, full of Bardian pirates and Stellar criminals. The Empire doesn't care much for the frontier these days, so those legions get nothing but scraps to work with." Gallus buried his head in his hands, kneading his forehead in dismay.

"I don't like any of our options." Gallus moaned. "I don't either." Donald admitted. "But if we liked them they wouldn't make very effective punishments." Gallus couldn't argue with that logic. If the justice system was designed to make him regret his "crimes", it was doing a hell of a job. After some time, the break ended, and the judge and jury had come to their final decision.

One man spoke for the jury, stating that: "We advise that the judge issue a guilty verdict, on counts of assault and trespassing, to both Mr. Sacro and Mr. Henderson." This was about what Gallus had expected, but hearing it out loud made his heart sink even further. The judge swiped a few words onto the screen in front of him, nodding to himself and murmuring.

He spoke in clear and uncertain terms. "I agree with the jury's decision. The two of you have committed crimes against Mars and her citizens. You have assaulted an esteemed member of Martian society and broken into the basement of one of New Brooklyn's finest and most prestigious places of hospitality."

"But, as the Imperial code is a fair one, you have options with regard to your punishment. Option one; I give you both the greatest prison time receivable for your crimes. Twenty years of hard labor on Mercury, working on the Imperial Swarm. You will set out immediately and will not receive life-extension treatments nor pay."

Gallus wanted to puke. Mercury was a boiling desert hellscape, where miners toiled away to make more solar collectors for the Empire's dyson swarm. Without any life-extension vitamins or treatments, he would physiologically be in his early 50s when his punishment ended. Assuming he didn't die of exhaustion or heat stroke or suicide, as so many forced laborers did.

"Your other option, and I believe, your better choice, is to join an Imperial Penal Regiment. You will need to stay on the force for at least five years, but you will receive proper medical treatment and will be paid for your time in service. By serving the imperial family in the field, you may earn the mercy of your fellow Martians."

After his conversation with Donald, Gallus had expected these to be his options, but that didn't make the blow any softer. Gallus felt the walls of the courtroom closing in around him, and he struggled to breathe as he thought about the perils of both potential futures. He was brought back, momentarily, by the sound of the judge's voice.

"I will give the two of you until the end of the day to make your decisions and say any necessary farewells. Either way, you'll both be off planet by the end of the week. Court adjourned." The small auditorium of people all went their separate ways, filing out of the courtroom in a steady stream. A few armed police officers stood behind Gallus and Donald, reminding them that they did not share in the luxury of departure.