A Chance Meeting

The howling wind signified the start of winter. The dark alley where the raid had occurred was dingy and smelled like sweat, blood, and fear. The criminals were arranged in a straight line, facing east. Aoreon was at the centre of it all. It was the sixth time he had been caught in a span of three years, but he knew, deep in his bones, that it was different this time. The evil bitch had blocked off all the exits and attacked with all her might. He had heard of her before, oh yes, a stickler for the rules. She would give her left hand before she let any of them off, he was certain. The detective glared at him as she passed, and sweat trickled down his back despite the increasing cold.

Detective Valerya D'ajnes could have been considered pretty, even beautiful, if only she smiled. Her eyes were the stormy blue of the ocean during a storm, but they looked down at the criminals with such disdain that they cowered in fear.

"Is this all the vermin?" She yelled at her assistant.

"Caught every last one of them, Oojules is rounding the rest up," he replied.

She spat on the floor and turned to look at all seven of them, with even more hatred than before.

"I am in a very good mood, so I'll give you a heads-up," she started.

Aoreon and some philarers shared brief looks and averted their eyes hurriedly. If she was in a good mood and was like this, they wondered what her bad mood would be like.

"A lot of you have been in this before, but I can assure you, none of you would get out of this." She looked at Aoreon closely.

"The previous times you were caught, you offered bribes to buy your way out," she spat again. "But I won't allow that. You all will be locked up for your crimes, and I would find each and every single corrupt officer you bought, to be punished alongside you. I would hand you straight over to the Volyrts from here, and after a fair trial, of course, your right hands would be cut off for daring to go against the capital by stealing."

At this point, a tall, good-looking officer walked in, holding a sickly thin man by the scruff of his neck. Valerya continued like she hadn't been interrupted.

"You would then be free to go. After that, I would watch each of you closely. Repeated offenders would lose the other hand, then both their eyes, then the tongue, until they are walking corpses. Do you understand?"

Aoreon had half a mind to beg her, but on looking at her severe bun, knew that it would be of no use.

"I asked if you understood," she said calmly.

"Yes Ma'am," they all replied in unison.

"Take them away," she ordered.

Sebastian Oojoules walked towards her with the thin man, who was crying.

"What?" she asked irritably.

"He didn't steal proton beams to sell in the black market, he stole food," he said.

"So?"

"He did it to feed his starving family. He took a loaf of bread that wasn't his to feed them. It wasn't even for himself."

"And what do you call that? Taking what isn't yours?" Valerya asked.

"It's stealing, but…,"

"He would face the Volyrts along with the others," she said and the man whimpered.

"His hand would get cut off. He'll face the exact same punishment as them, but their crimes are a hell of a lot worse," he said angrily.

"Are you saying the empire is wrong?"

He hesitated. "Of course not."

"Siakes diadem…," she trailed off, waiting for him to continue.

"Osmore friyam requiem," he completed.

"Exactly. The empire is always right, no matter what. Glad to see that it's not just air you have in that pretty head of yours."

She took a step towards both men, unhurried, but sure. "He stole a loaf of bread today to feed his family. What happens if his family goes hungry tomorrow? Or the next day? I'll tell you. He'll keep stealing. He'll shove a bread up his shirt today, borrow a chicken without the owner's permission tomorrow, and on and on it'll go until he starts selling proton beams right under the empire's nose."

She talks more animatedly now, firmly believing in her words. "If we pardon him today, we'll have to pardon everyone else, because I'm damn sure they all have a reason for doing what they did, won't you say?"

Sebastian didn't reply. He bit his tongue to keep from saying something he'd regret. He found it hard to imagine that after spending five years with her at the police academy and doing all sorts of tasks together, he hadn't gotten used to her patronizing tone, her self-assured way of speaking, and her conviction that the empire could never be wrong.

"You there, take this man away. And lock him up away from the others. I don't trust Detective Good Heart over here," she said sarcastically.

"Yes ma'am," the female deputy replied and firmly pulled the man away.

"This isn't the time to show compassion, Oojoules," Valerya stated.

"The decision on who would make the first maestro is coming, and you wouldn't want rumours to start flying around that you're a weakling, would you?"

"I don't give a rat's ass about that right now, Valerya. You just ruined a man's life."

"No, pretty boy, he ruined his life with his own hands… well, one hand, since that's what he'll have in a few hours."

"Fuck you."

"I know you'd love to," she replied with a smile which completely transformed her face. She walked away from him to the waiting vehicle. She looked back and caught a glimpse of him wandering back in the direction of the station, his hands in the pockets of his neatly starched trousers. He kept his head down as he walked, angry with her she was sure, but more disappointed with himself. Valerya sympathized with him but knew that it was what was best for the empire. The empire was always right.