"The Trial of Dolon"

[Chad Vicenik]

~The Trial of Dolon~

Introducing Sub-Commander Dolon, of the Romulan Empire

OOC - I would like to thank Chris H. for helping me out with this post.  He wrote, essentially, the entire middle portion, and it is quite excellent.

== Several weeks ago ==

 

 

 

He was pushed into the dark room in much the same way one would kick a stubborn canine off the bed. It was not quiet inside, but it was hushed - all the noise soft and difficult to hear. There was a loud clack as the overhead light spilled a bright pool over him. The contrast of the spot was sharp, and blinding. It was several moments before he could begin to see anything outside of his little circle. His circle of shame.

In front of him, though several meters above him, three tiny flickers of green ignited, softly illuminating the two assessors and the single judge. Their desk towered over him at such a height that when he looked up at them, he was almost afraid he would tumble backwards. Though there was light up there, it was meant only for them, to see their personal displays. It was not meant for him to see them. But, still, he could make out that the assessors were male, and between them, the judge was female. A weight in his stomach formed. It felt as if his insides were being pulled towards the earth. Women were stereotyped in their judiciousness. They weren't bad, per se, it depended on the case. But they were opinionated, and deeply emotional. If you could capture their sympathies, or place them in your shoes, you were better off. But this judge... she would not be found in his shoes. Not in this case.

On either side of the imposing desk, two stands appeared, illuminated by a pale green light that glowed from strips that ran along the banister encircling each box. The accuser and the prosecutor stood  inside them, the former on the judge's left, the latter on her right. Though their light was also dim in comparison to the spotlight that stared down on him, they were brighter than tribunal that towered over him. He had a right to look his accuser and prosecutor in the face - though only just.

Above him, a soft metal chime rang out from the judge's desk. Suddenly the room began to echo with voices that were hidden in the dark behind him. In unison, they chanted an oath, or maybe a prayer - allegience to the Empire, long may it reign; let it cast its swift justice upon those who would dishonor it; and then let it's people rejoice in renewed peace. It was an ancient tradition, taught to all Romulans in their youth. He knew it by heart, but he had only ever had cause to cite it himself twice before. He decided to not let this time be his third. As the oath ended, the court room fell silent once more. And his trial began.

"Dolon of the Caelian," the judge spoke, her voice feminine, but firm. She denied him his rank. "Are you aware of why you were brought here today?"

He flexed his arms against the heavy shackles that bound them together, hefty tubes of steel that encircled the entirety of his forearms. "Yes," he said simply.

It was the accuser's turn. "Dolon of the Caelian, you are guilty of treason against the Empire. You have conspired to overthrow the government, and have actively made war against it. Do you deny this truth?"

"Yes," he replied, and there was a quiet murmur from the dark surrounding him, as if the audience were surprised.

"Prosecutor, can you explain to the accused how the State arrived at its decision?" the accusor asked.

The prosecutor nodded. "Dolon served as the first officer of the Caelian, under the command of Emedal."

"Do you deny this truth?" the accusor asked.

"No," Dolon replied.

"She has already been tried and executed for her crimes against the Empire," the prosecutor announced. Dolon tensed his jaw, but remained stoic. His captain was dead, but any sign of loyalty to her - any sign of sadness over that fact would only harm him here.

The prosecutor continued, "Together, she and the accused plotted to overthrow the government, to eliminate the representatives of the people that congress in the Senate, and to consolidate politcal power in a solitary empress, one Kaidalin t'Vriesu," he said, as if she were a relatively unknown figure and not someone who could have very easily been this man's highest boss.

After the brief uprising that was the Reman revolution and the assassination of the old Senate, the Empire was thrown into chaos. It's leadership had suddenly disappeared and there were many with ambition that tried to fill the void. But, it had only taken a short time before that laundry list had reduced to two - his Empress, and Donatra, the traitor who conspired with Remans in the first place. Each led a faction that equated to about half of the former empire, and each vied to assimilate the other. Of course, niether faction was populated with people who were all that terribly devoted to the woman who led them. Some Romulans were devoted - everyone had their loyalists - but the rest? Well, they either hated the other leader, or followed more pragmatic goals and attempted to bet on the eventual winner.

Kaidalin lost.

When news spread of her death, many of her supporters were quietly folded into Donatra's empire. Others, like his former captain, Emedal, who despised Donatra for the foolish, power-hungry xenophile she was, continued the fight. The prosecutor continued to lay out his case, "Emedal, with the might of her ship, the Caelian, claimed protective ownership of Achaea. This planet and her native peoples have long supported the Romulan Empire, for many hundreds of years. Her act was a declaration of war against the state. Dolon supported her in this action, and led the planetary invasion against that humble province."

His statement was technically true, though spoken from an obvious bias.

===========================================

Weeks ago

Achaea, provincal world of the Romulan Empire

"Commander Dolon, we are honored by your presence," the stocky man said, offering a bow.

"Jolan Tru, Captain," Dolon replied to the Romulan. They stood in front of two enormous duranium doors at the foot of a mountain. Dolon's unit stood behind him, a legion of the finest soldiers his ship had to offer. This was their final stop at the end of a long parading march through a series of the planet's largest towns, a show of force and solidarity to comfort the native populace. This planet would remain free from Donatra's wrongfully totalitarian grip. Their reception had been supportive, yet somber. Everyone knew the tide had started to turn against them. With Kaidalin gone, Donatra's conquest of the old empire was progressing rapidly. Achaea was next on the list. If they could turn back Donatra's fleet, it would shatter her momentum, and perhaps, some of her support.

Today, they were meeting Captain Saren. Dolon would take over his post as the head of the planetary defense network. Saren had met him and his legion of a hundred men with a posse of only five minutemen, though Dolon knew there were many more stationed around the edge of the base, concealed as snipers.

"You have received the specifications of the Defense Command?" Saren asked him.

Dolon nodded. "It is more impressive in person."

Saren grinned with pride. "And I have recieved your initial orders. Preparations have been made for your men."

"Excellent, they could use the brief respite."

Saren tilted his head to the side, "May I ask, how brief? Do you know?"

Dolon nodded again, "Our intelligence says the invading fleet will be here by tomorrow."

"Oh my," Saren said, "Then, we should prepare straight away. Please, follow me. I'll give you the five pence tour."

 

Dolon and his army were led into a large recieving chamber near the entrance to the base.  His soldiers were given directions to barracks where they could spend the next several hours resting.  Dolon and his top aides, on the other hand, continued their tour of the base with Saren.  The complex was massive, though its size was typical of such facilities.  They traveled through it using various small, electric carts, and dedicated turbolifts, while listening to Saren brag about various aspects of the base.  Its masoned walls were built around a skeleton of high-impact, ultra-durable alloy and reached over twenty-five meters high.  If they weren't impregnable enough, they were also fitted with numerous top-line shield emittors powered by an artificial singularity larger than even Dolon's warbird, the Caelian.  It's inner corridors were a labyrinth, built to thwart and befuddle any invading force that may have been unfamiliar with its layout, giving the base's own minutemen a distinct advantage.  Dolon made sure to order his aides distribute blueprints among his soldiers, so they wouldn't be vexed in the same way.  Then, the tour took them through the various control rooms, each serving as a potentially independent command center in charge of all aspects of the planet's defense network.  But, under normal circumstances, they would all be subordinate to the primary control room, where Dolon would be stationed.  There, he would oversee and coordinate all the planetary weapons against Donatra's invading fleet while his captain, Emedal, would oversee and coordinate the defending warbird fleet in orbit. 

 

Dolon complimented the base at the conclusion of the tour, and Saren beamed with pride.  "Now, Captain Saren, if you would, guide me more specifically through the capabilities of Achaea's defenses, so that I may develop an appropriate strategy against our invaders.

 

"It would be my honor," Saren nodded.

==================

 

Alert klaxons whined throughout the massive planetary complex.  Like a fortress of old, it was built to withstand any siege an enemy army might throw at it.  Or, at least the people of Achaea who'd allied themselves with Kaidalin's resistance group hoped and prayed that the fortress was as strong as it was said to be.

 

Dolon and his men were assigned to garrison the primary receiving chamber.  News had filtered down among the ranks that Donatra's naval forces had pummeled what was left of Kaidalin's fleet into retreat, leaving Achaea's skies to the victorious attackers.  Now, Achaea's defense grid focused on Donatra's vessels, lunging a plethora of heavy plasma and high-speed photon torpedoes upwards in volumes that staggered the imagination.  Planets were often thought highly susceptible to orbital bombardments; after all, in comparison, planets were stationary targets.  In reality however, shore batteries, orbital defense platforms, and other defensive installations made planets formidable enemies when it came to taking ground. 

 

But when it came to tactics, Donatra's officers were no slouches.  The Romulan Imperial Fleet had been at war, more or less continuously, since the end of the Dominion War.  Attacking massive installations or even entire planets was par for the course for them.  Using their numbers and defensive postures to withstand the planet's strike, they began a bombardment of their own.  From inside the cavernous space of the receiving area, it sounded like a giant child was banging the drum of the planet's crust.  Erratic, powerful pulses seemed to rip even through the flooring beneath their boots, despite the best efforts of the shock-absorbing inertial dampening system.  The dull drum of hits, and the quakes, was enough to sharpen the senses of every true Romulan son and daughter in the room.  Highly agitated, highly strung, and highly anxious for a fight, they were pressed with the knowledge that the enemy would be arriving 'soon'.  The one major disadvantage of a planetary installation was, of course, that everyone knew where the hell you were.

 

Dolon looked his men over once more, all of whom were now in their pre-determined defensive positions.  The group would be able to maul any Legionnaire unit fool-hearty enough to mount a direct assault.  In addition to the internal automated security systems of the base, the hundred-strong Romulan force had four heavy-disruptor quads mounted on the flanks of the receiving hall, a dozen snipers in positions of concealment with wide open firing arcs, and at least two dozen squad support weapons arranged on the ground floor looking out.  A dozen other men carried anti-armor weapons.  Plasma mines had been set up right behind the large, bay door to the receiving area, sandwiched between three layers of high-energy force fields.  Finally, behind them, physical barriers had been hastily built that artificially narrowed the width of the approach, producing what was sure to be a killing zone of epic proportions.  The plate terma-steel used in the construction of the barriers had, hidden behind it, immensely powerful antimatter explosives that, if the situation called for it, could be activated by the last man standing, and would trigger a cave in that would cut the bay off from the outside world - amputating the appendage to save the body.

 

It was a good plan.  It was Dolon's plan.  He believed any enemy force strong enough to breech the external defenses of the fortified base would be so large as to require a huge rallying point inside the base if they wanted to take it, and given the power of the base's shield generators, he knew they would have to take it - their fleet would not be able to destroy the base by bombardment alone.  At least, not without destroying a profitable planet by the entirety, a move bound to make the resistance more ardent and stronger.  No, they were definitely coming through those doors.

 

As his eyes panned the scene before him, Dolon slung his rifle over his shoulder.  They had time, Donatra would not be so foolish as to send forces while the bombardment was underway.  That is what he believed he knew.  His biggest fear wasn't death, it was failing the men who, standing here, had stood behind him as he stood behind the Empress.  As she took care of those loyal to her, and as his superiors took care of him, he had an obligation to take care of these loyal sons of Romulus.

 

"Gentlemen," he started, the kilometer long stare in the eyes of the men around him giving him some pause.  "It seems only appropriate that I speak to you one last time before the enemy breaks upon us like waves on rock.  You have always proven to be loyal and obedient - for that I thank you.  I can never thank you enough for the courage you have displayed.  Romulus was once great because of sons like you, and sons like you will undoubtedly make her great once more.  The importance of the upcoming battle cannot be overstated.  We are Achaea's last guardians.  This line MUST hold if the planet is to have any chance of retaining its independence.  This line MUST hold if the Empress' death is to be avenged, and if our children will ever be able to be free of the oppression wrought by an usurper to the throne.  I cannot guarantee victory in this battle, but note that whatever happens here, our war will go on.  In the end, we will be victorious.  In the end, the righteousness of our cause will prevail, and the usurpers will be disposed of and punished for their crimes.  I am proud to stand here with you - stand here with you against the rising shadow of night - in order to pursue a grander morning for our people."  The grim look in the eyes of his men were testament to their willingness to do whatever it took to win.  There wasn't a single one of them who looked timidly away.  They'd been down this route before against Donatra's forces, and win or lose, they knew what they could expect.  They knew what would happen, and they knew what was on the line.  Not a single one so much as wavered. 

 

Then, as a moment of silent reflection following his words passed, Dolon's fist thrust into the air, clutched around the grip of his honor blade, and his voice boomed defiantly over the sounds of the bombardment outside:  "Romulus Victrix!"

 

The gesture was followed in turn by a bellowing from his men.  "ROMULUS VICTRIX!"

 

"Die well, brothers!  The Empire demands it!"  Dolan dismissed them, inner pride resonating as he watched them get back to their assigned places.  One couldn't help but be confident.  How could such men lose?

 

It turned out that the answer to that question was 'fairly easily'.

 

Unbeknownst to the defenders of Achaea, the Romulan Naval Command knew damn well what defenses Achaea had in place.  They probably knew more about the base then even Dolon's defenders.  They knew Dolon's capabilities, they knew the men he had with him, and they knew the defensive capabilities of the base, as well as the capabilities of its staff.  They even knew about the basic operations that the base would go through when threatened with attack.  For instance, Achaea's main fortress would dispatch all non-essential personnel, and retract all shuttle pads and seal the blast doors over their hangar bays once the powerful, planetary AWACS sensors detected unfriendly Romulan ships within a day's distance.  Dispatching the emergency flights took approximately one hour, allowing time for fueling, departure, and returning. 

 

What that meant was there existed a window of opportunity to be seized.

 

The Tal Shava, the elite Imperial Marines of the Romulan Empire, were generally relegated to second class status, at least as far as elite Romulan forces went.  Throughout the Dominion War, most of the 'action' in large scale assaults were made by Reman shock troopers backed up by regular Legionnary formations.  The Tal Shiar generally handled even paramilitary matters related to intelligence (though they weren't supposed to), and the Galae, like Starfleet, tended to hand select personnel for special operations missions.  Thus, where as their comparative sister service, the Starfleet Marine Corps, had built a sterling reputation for combat prowess in all arenas, the Tal Shava gained little notoriety beyond the borders of the Empire.  Instead, they wallowed away on the vine, relegated generally to counter-insurgency and counter-insurrection operations with only a few, rare bones, like reconnaissance and raiding operations, thrown to them.  The fact that Starfleet had to intervene on Romulus itself to repel the Hydran onslaught there further still bruised the ego of the Tal Shava service.

 

Donatra however, a veteran Galae commander, knew well the potential power the service had, and she was more than willing to target their pent-up anxiety and rage on a most vulnerable target: the Empress' few remaining supporters.  Thus, approximately 36 hours ahead of the main assault fleet, and armed with IFF codes procured by a Tal Shiar agent embedded in Achaea's fortress, Commandos I Tal Shava, a battalion sized force, arrived in the Achaea system.  Their cloaked ships, equipped with the aid of Donatra's Reman allies, were absolutely invisible as they entered the system.  They shadowed 'target' shuttles ferrying personnel from the base, jamming their communications systems and easily disabling them.  They then took on the IFF signatures of the disabled craft, transferred to a Romulan cloaking device, and proceeded back to the installation, who's high-powered scanners were too occupied tracking the approaching fleet to worry about scanning inside of Achaea's atmosphere. 

 

They then landed, decloaked, and were taken inside the base.  Handlers moved the large transport shuttles off of the lifts unknowingly.  After all, it was common for crews in these circumstances to remain with their craft in the event an evacuation of the base was ordered.  Nobody knew that, rather then the skeleton crew of two, there were instead twenty of Donatra's finest warriors crammed into each shuttle, minding their own chronometers, and waiting for the perfect moment.

That moment came with the bombardment.  As the opening shots rained down, the Tal Shava commandos counted down five minutes, and with all eyes above, dropped the proverbial hammer on their metaphorical 'Trojan Horse' play.  The ramps came down.  Heavily armed men, the hardest of the hard, came running down the ramps.  The ground crews were so shocked that fleeing was a virtual impossibility.  A pair of disruptor cannons poured fire into the flight control center in the opening moments, preventing any warning from spreading.  Like greased lightening, they immediately took control of the shuttle bays.  While a turmae of men from each century were left behind to throw open Achaea's gates to their comrades awaiting to reinforce them, the others fanned out through the base, armed with foreknowledge of the facilities most crucial areas, and their defenses.

 

Dolon knew nothing of this, not until the echoes of disruptor fire from BEHIND his carefully prepared and well orchestrated defenses resounded in his pointed ears.  With the cunning of an experienced, veteran officer he quickly attempted to reorganize his defenses, but it was too late.  A green beam of phased energy struck a young Legionnaire directly in the chest, cutting through his ballistic armor like a hot knife through butter, and ending his life.  Then a grenade followed, killing the medic and the man's compatriot who'd run to try and rescue him. 

 

All hell broke loose from there on out.  How it happened, he would never find out, but Dolon's own defenses had been turned against him.  The automated systems were not firing on the intruders.  They had either been reprogrammed or unable to see them, he mused.  The forcefields and mines that formed the carefully cultivated killing field leading in from the door now became a costly barrier preventing him from accessing the only true avenue of retreat he had.  Even as the manned turrets swiveled, they came instantly under fire. 

 

He'd been had, but...

 

"How?!"  His Centurion, a 35 year old veteran of the Romulan Military who'd seen everything from Jem H'adar charges and Cardassian rampages to Reman and Hydran Imperial Army actions asked the question echoing through his head aloud.  "HOW?!"

 

"I don't know!"  Dolon shouted, his rifle streaking with hot phased energy as he unleashed on a Contubernium of undoubtedly enemy soldiers who rushed into their area firing.  "There's no way..."

 

He was rewarded for his opinion with a cluster of plasma rounds landing at the feet of the defenders nearest the hallway.  Bodies were blown to bits, many of which were liquidated or vaporized, and thrown through the air like so much confetti.  Medics, in the pandemonium, rushed where they could in an attempt to save lives but, unintentionally, delaying the repositioning of the defenders like so many gopher holes in a golf course. 

 

"Get the wounded to the rear!  Uhlan Tr'vesk, cover the Medics!" 

 

Eventually they were able to collect the wounded and move them to the rear, but the stream of enemy soldiers continued.  Soon they were able to cut off the medics and a few defenders from the rest of his men.  He was losing ground, being forced into an increasingly small corner.  The enemies he was battling were as fanatically devoted and thoroughly trained as any he'd seen before, even more so in their combat effectiveness.  Now, through his own orders, Dolon had allowed a group of his men to become cut off from his main force.  The fanatical fighting was beginning to degrade into a full out slaughter as the quad cannons opened up on the Tal Shava Commandos, but were quickly taken out.  There was scarcely area to stand in as bodies laid sprawled out over the deck.  Watching as the enemy began tripping over bodies to push in, Dolon took another risk, launching a full-out counter attack in hopes of collapsing the pocket that the Tal Shava had established in the room back into the corridor. 

 

The chaos only escalated when the two units mashed together under the weight of the fatalistic charge.  It was a last, desperate action to save the men who were on the verge of being wiped out, the men he commanded and owed a loyalty to - good, true, Romulan men. 

 

The charge failed.  Dolon was hit, slumping to the ground as the men around him fought on.  His last images before blacking out that of his last medic making a similarly last stand in defense of the wounded, and being cut down for the effort.

==============================================

　

After the prosecutor finished reviewing the details of the squashed rebellion on Achaea, the accusor asked Dolon, "Do you deny these truths?"

 

Dolon paused, deciding exactly how he would respond - whether he would argue against the weight that biased the prosecutor's testimony against him or look past it and agree with the facts.  Eventually he responded, "No."

 

"Yet, you deny your guilt for the crimes of treason?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Then, please, inform the Empire of her mistake," the accusor said.

 

"I fought on Achaea, that is true.  But, I was not fighting against the Empire.  I served under Kaidalin's banner and defended against an invading fleet that flew under Donatra's colors.  In this battle, how could I have committed treason against the empire when both sides claimed themselves to be the empire?"

 

"Ignorance does not absolve you of your guilt.  Donatra is our Praetor, her Senate is our government.  They are the leaders of our empire - the rightful leaders.  Kaidalin was an usurper, but fortunately, her attempt at a coux was foiled.  A true Romulan, an honest patriot, would have seen her for the pretender she was.  But you, Dolon, buried your head in the sand and pretended to be blind.  You are guilty," the accusor said.

 

Dolon wanted to say he found it hard to believe that a true patriot would see Donatra as a legitimate candidate for Praetor, considering she was an accomplice in the assassination of an entire senate and supported the ascension of a Reman, of all things, to the head of government.  But, this was her empire now.  Such public criticism would not serve him well here.

 

The tribunal looked down on him from atop their towering desk.  They confered with one another, quietly.  When they finished, the judge turned to face the dark courtroom.  "Is there any citizen that would care to speak on this matter?" she asked, and a second spotlight clacked on next to Dolon.  It was currently empty.

 

There was a pause, and some quiet rustling behind him.  Eventually, someone stepped into the pool of bright light.  Dolon was surprised.  In any trial, if there was someone who spoke on behalf of the accused, it was usually arranged ahead of time.  He had made no such arrangements, since those who might have spoken on his behalf were likely facing their own charges.  But, Dolon was even more suprised by who had stepped up. 

 

It was Saren.

 

"Please, state your identity for the records," the prosecutor said.

 

"My name is Saren, and I serve the Empire in the ranks of the Tal Shiar."

 

The Tal Shiar?  Dolon stared at the stocky man.  How long had he been undercover on Achaea?  It must have been quite a while.  None of the minutemen based there acted as if Saren were a new presence.  That meant, of course, that even if the people of Achaea had supported Kaidalin, since he was in charge of the planetary defenses, the planet was never theirs to begin with.  The whole battle, and his capture, had been predestined.

 

Then, of course, Dolon wondered what the spy was going to say.  He didn't necessarily have to speak on his behalf.  It was his right to speak against him, but that would have been odd, since any evidence he had would have been passed to the prosecutor.  Saren would not have had to give up his cover to ruin Dolon's career, or his life.

 

Saren continued, "I would like to speak on behalf of Dolon of the Caelian.  I agree with the findings of the state, Dolon's actions were treasonous.  He acted against the interests of the empire.  He made  war against it.  But, we should recognize that that may not have been Dolon's decision.  May I ask if the state has any record of Dolon making inflammatory or treasonous statements, either verbally or in writing?"

 

The accusor and the prosecutor glanced at each other.  Dolon knew they had no such record.  He was a member of the military, and the smart soldiers never made a public political preference.  You never knew who was watching.  But, then, it was not above the prosecution to lie in order to seal a case against someone they knew were guilty.  But, Saren preempted them, "I am aware of this officer's record, and I know of no such statements.  But then, I am not as knowledgeable as the state."

 

The accusor and prosecutor shared another quick glance before the accusor replied, "No."

 

"But, of course, we know Dolon's captain, Emedal, was a traitor.  She has already been executed for her crimes.  Dolon, of course, served beneath Emedal.  He followed her commands.  And Dolon has proven himself to be an excellent officer.  If the court permits, Commander Dolon," Saren said, turning to address him.  Dolon acknowledged him out of the corner of his eye, but he continued to face the tribunal sitting above him.  "Commander, what is the highest duty of a military officer?"

 

"To follow the commands given to them by their superior officers," Dolon replied quickly.

 

"And you served on a warship.  On a warship, who is your superior officer?  On a warship, who, or what, is the focus of your loyalty?"

 

"Your captain."

 

"Your captain," Saren repeated for the court.  "Are you loyal to your captain over the empire?"

 

"An officer is loyal to their captain over everything else, except for the Empire, which is regarded as equally deserving of their fealty as their captain.  But the government, and the idea of the Empire are not the same," Dolon said truthfully. 

 

Saren nodded with a wry smile.  "Yes.  I have known many military officers in my years, and I can testify to the accuracy of that belief as part of an officer's code of honor.  So, your most honored eminences," Saren bowed before the court, "Dolon may have acted against the interests of the empire, but he also acted in the manner expected of our military.  It just so happens that in this instance, those two things were in conflict.  And in that case - in this case - I submit his decision to act in accordance with his duties as an officer, his loyalty and obedience to his commanding officer, misguided traitor she may have been, was the correct decision for him to make.  I submit that although Dolon committed treasonous acts, he should not be convicted of treason."

 

Again, there was a rumbling murmur from the hidden audience that surrounded them.  Saren bowed to the tribunal once more and back out of the light.  The spot clacked off, and he was alone once more in his solitary white pool.  The prosecutor and accusor stood silent as the judge and the two assessors determined his fate. 

 

The discussion was longer than he expected it would be.  Much longer.  It was a good sign, it meant the assessors couldn't agree and the judge was weighing her options.  He might be freed, or at least, he might only suffer a minimal punishment.  He stood there, holding up his heavy shackles against the pull of gravity.

 

Finally, they seemed to reach an agreement and the judge spoke, "Dolon of the Caelian.  This court finds you innocent of the crimes of treason."  Then she rang her chime once more, and his trial was over. He was free. 

 

He stood there for a moment, not totally sure how to process the news.  For the first time today, his stoic face broke into a faint smirk.  Two centaurians approached him, unlocking and removing his shackles.  The spotlight that shined on him dimmed and the dark courtroom brightened a bit, allowing him to find his own way out. 

 

He allowed the architecture of the room to funnel him out into a hallway where Saren was waiting for him.  The stocky spy offered him a bow.  "Congratulations on regaining your innocence, Commander," he said.

 

Dolon studied the man for a moment.  He wasn't sure how to respond.  This man had just spoken for him in court, and made the argument that led to his freedom.  However, he was the same man that lied to him, that set and sprung the trap that caused him to be captured in the first place.  He had no idea where the man's loyalties lied, or what his true intentions were, so Dolon played it safe and responded, "Thank you."

 

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to talk to you about what you'll be doing next," Saren said.

 

"I plan on re-enlisting," Dolon said, matter of fact.

 

"Oh, ho, Commander," Salen chuckled, "You don't need to re-enlist.  You've been granted back your innocence.  Your tenure in the fleet will continue unmolested.  Only your assignment will change."  He sidled up next to Dolon and placed his fat arm around Dolon's shoulders, guiding him forward into a casual stroll.  "As I said, I would like to talk to you about what you'll be doing next."