This does not look good, thought Lieutenant Aldermoon, reviewing a pile of papers in her hands.

Her brow furrowed, the slight crease mostly hidden by her dark skin and the shadow of her even darker beret. She was unhappy. The vexed lieutenant had every reason to be. She had only discovered the case an hour ago, and as she hurriedly donned her dress uniform ready for trial, it was only now, outside the courtroom, that the full gravity of the situation hit her.

Her subordinate was in serious trouble.

She scanned the notes again, seated on a bench just outside the courtroom as people moved past her. Few wore their ceremonial garb, and only a handful shared her purple beret, marking them as lieutenants. Those who did acknowledge her with salutes quickly moved on, seeing her stiff posture and sharp focus. She clearly wasn't to be disturbed.

As the minutes ticked by, Aldermoon shuffled through the ten papers repeatedly, almost as if searching for a hidden meaning between the lines. Since becoming a lieutenant, she had participated in countless court proceedings—as defendant, opposition, and inquisitor. But those cases had been over trivial matters: missing formation, falling asleep on duty, or drunk at their post. Now, as she read through accusations of bribery, theft, desertion, and murder, it felt like a cruel joke. She couldn't fathom how the young sergeant under her command could have committed any of these crimes, let alone all of them.

"Ma'am!"

Aldermoon looked up just in time to see her sergeant—a young elf named Lura—slammed to the ground by a jailer. The chains clanged loudly, and Lura, dirty and disheveled, crumpled into a heap. Her blonde hair was matted, her face bruised, her lip swollen. A soft cry escaped her lips as tears welled in her eyes.

"You do not have permission to speak!" barked the jailer, his voice full of disdain.

Aldermoon's blood boiled. Without a second thought, she was on her feet, storming toward the elf who had dared lay hands on her soldier. The jailer looked up, annoyed, until his gaze landed on her purple beret. His eyes widened, and he knew instantly he had made a mistake. Sensing trouble, he took a step back, but it was too late. In a flash, she had him twisted to the ground.

"You do not assault my soldier. Do you hear me?" she growled, her voice low but lethal. "You're behavior is completely unacceptable. Do it again, and I will personally see you court-martialed."

The second jailer backed off as the first gave a grunt of acknowledgement in agony. Satisfied, she released him and turned to Lura, helping her to her feet. The smell was awful, but even worse, her heart cried out at the sight of the elf she had grown fond of. This wasn't the strong, composed elf she had come to know.

"Sergeant Lura, are you alright?" she asked gently.

Lura nodded, but Aldermoon could tell she was anything but. Fear and exhausted plastered every inch of the her face. Carefully, Aldermoon placed a hand under her arm and walked her towards the direction of the washroom hoping to make her a little more presentable for the trial, but mostly she tried to buy a few minutes of alone time with her. When they reached the door, Aldermoon turned to the quieter of the two jailers and held out her hand.

"The keys."

"Ma'am, we have orders—" the private began.

"Sergeant Lura," Aldermoon interrupted, her voice firm, "still has rights. Search the latrine if you must, but she's not going to escape from in there. You and I both know that."

Her gaze was cold, unwavering, daring him to push back. The private hesitated, glancing at his bruised comrade, who seemed in no mood to argue. With a sigh, the jailer pulled out the keys and unshackled Lura's chains.

"Make it quick. The trial starts soon. We'll be waiting out here," he muttered.

"That's ma'am to you," Aldermoon shot back, not waiting for his response. She swiftly led the sergeant inside and shut the door before either jailer could reconsider.

"Thank you, ma'am," Lura whispered as she gently rubbed her wrists. "There hasn't been much dignity in the past few days."

"Get yourself cleaned up as best as you can and do it quickly. I'm not sure how much time we got."

Aldermoon watched as Lura splashed water onto her face and arms. The grime and dirt ran off in dark streaks, tainting the water in the basin. Even without soap, the cleansing was barely enough to reveal some of the elf beneath the filth. Still, it did the job. As she finished up, she managed to push her long hair into a bun by folding it neatly on top of her head, impressing Aldermoon. She herself would have struggled to accomplish the same task without the aid of a small metal clip.

As Lura finished, she gripped the edge of the basin and took a deep breath. "It was him," she said quietly.

Aldermoon didn't need clarification but asked the name anyway. "Captain Rhihorn?"

Lura nodded, her face tense. It didn't explain everything, but it made sense. Rhihorn had been harassing Lura for months, though they'd never had witnesses who could testify to the effect. Aldermoon suspected it was part of the reason the previous captain suggested transferring Lura under her care.

"What happened?" Aldermoon asked softly.

"As you know, I was on leave with some friends. We planned to rent a room for the night down at the inn on level two and then take a boat to Clayborn for the week. By the time we got there, it was late. The tavern was crowded, and I saw him there."

Aldermoon's brow furrowed. "And you stayed?"

"I wanted to leave," Lura admitted, her voice wavering. "But my friends convinced me to stay in the room. They said they'd catch up with me later. I grabbed some food from the bar and went upstairs. Next thing I remember, I was in one of the northern fields, wearing someone else's trousers, surrounded by soldiers accusing me of killing Lieutenant Theodre."

Aldermoon's stomach tightened. "I read the report," she said, giving Lura a moment to collect herself. "Theodre had been missing for months. A farmer found his body a few days ago."

"They're saying I killed him in a jealous rage, then dumped his body in the field. But I barely knew him. He was a decent commander when I served under him, but we hardly spoke outside of formal duties, let alone any romantic involvement. After I transferred to you, I don't even think I ever even saw him again."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Aldermoon nodded, her expression sympathetic. "What happened next?"

"For three days, they kept me locked up, trying to force a confession. They beat me, starved me, barely let me sleep. Then, suddenly, they gave me a meal and let me rest for a few hours. After that, they chained me up and brought me here."

"We can use that," Aldermoon said, trying to temper her anger. She would make sure there would be shol to pay, but she didn't want to loose her cool in front of Lara. "They must have known they weren't following procedure. They should have informed me the moment you were taken. As your commanding officer, it's my responsibility to defend you."

Lura gave her a grateful nod. "What do we do now?"

"First, we'll ask the inquisitor for more time to prepare. The lieutenants are usually lenient when procedures haven't been followed, and the Archduke made it clear that all proceedings need to be done by the book. Opposition might fight to keep you locked up, but I'll argue to have you placed directly under my watch for now. That'll give us time to speak with your friends and any other witnesses at the inn. Someone must have seen you that night, even if only briefly."

"I don't want to be a burden," Lura said, her voice quiet.

Aldermoon shook her head. "My soldiers are never a burden."

Without warning, Lura stepped forward and hugged her. It was a rare gesture from the typically reserved sergeant, and under normal circumstances, Aldermoon would have stopped her. But given the situation, and the privacy of the washroom, she allowed the moment to pass.

"Now," Aldermoon said as she gently pulled away. "Are you ready? We'll need to put the chains back on."

Lura nodded, resigned but calm. Together, they stepped out of the washroom, the jailers still standing waiting. The one who had unlocked the chains reached out to take them, but Aldermoon held up a hand.

"I'll do it."

With care, she shackled Lura's wrists, demonstrating the locks to the two elves. After securing the chains to Lura's ankles, the four of them walked into the courtroom to the defense desk, before the jailers retreated.

The courtroom was nearly empty, its large space filled only by a few figures. To her left, a young human with the rank of Private Superior sat at the documenter's chair, diligently readying himself. Aldermoon didn't recognize him, but she made a mental note of his face in case she needed to reference the record later. Toward the front of the room, stationed near the inquisitor's entrance, stood Sergeant Salo, the Sergeant of Arms. For an elf, Aldermoon thought the Youngling of the Stars rather stoic, but she knew from her own time serving as inquisitor he was a fair man who ran the court like a captain running his ship.

Finally, and as luck would have it, there was Lieutenant Kilyn seated at the opposition table. Kilyn was her former commanding officer, before Aldermoon made lieutenant. Whenever Aldermoon had a problem, she would go to her. She considered the elf her mentor and friend as they had spent many nights on the wall together and even a few in the tavern.

Aldermoon gave a nod in her direction which was returned with an encouraging smile. As Sargent Salo called the room to attention, she thought Lura had a better than average chance of getting her name cleared, but that was shattered immediately as Captain Rhihorn walked into the room and took the inquisitor's seat.

The shift in Lura's body beside her was immediate—tension rippling through her charge as Rhihorn took control of the proceedings. Aldermoon knew what was coming and wasted no time. "Sir, I must protest—"

"I agree with the defense," Lieutenant Kilyn cut in swiftly. "This isn't the captain's duty."

"Enough!" Captain Rhihorn barked, slamming his gavel with authority. "A captain has discretion in these matters, as opposition is well aware. Given the severity of the charges, I deemed it necessary to intervene."

"I still object, sir," Aldermoon pressed, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. "You have a history with the accused. You're obligated to step down. In fact, your involvement is part of our defense."

Rhihorn scoffed. "Involvement? What involvement? Present your evidence of this so-called history."

Lura abruptly rose to her feet, her voice sharp with vitriol. "I know you've the one harassi me. I know it was you who dragged me into that field."

"Defense, control your client," Rhihorn snarled, his eyes narrowing. "One more outburst and I'll have her thrown back into the brig. And as for her baseless accusations—bring me proof, or I will remain in this chair."

Aldermoon placed a calming hand on Lura's arm, urging her to sit. "Let me handle this." She turned back to Rhihorn, keeping her composure. "My objection still stands, sir. Proceedings have not officially begun. I'm not required to present evidence at this stage. However, if necessary, I will summon the former captain, who can testify to your character and actions."

Rhihorn's sneer deepened. "You mean the deserter? You expect me to allow a traitor in my court? Absolutely not."

Anger flickered in Aldermoon, but she held it back, worried the chance at a fair trail was slipping through her fingers. "Those charges were personally dismissed by the Archduke to allow her to take possession of the matriarchy in her homeland. As a nation's leader, her testimony would be honored just below the Archduke himself."

"You're out of line, Lieutenant," Rhihorn spat, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. "I will have order in this room. You were notified three days ago about the accused's arrest. If you failed to file for an extension or to properly advise your client, that's not my concern."

Lura glanced up at Aldermoon, her eyes wide with a growing desperation. The writing was on the wall, and she could see it as clearly as Aldermoon. "Sir, I received no such notice. It was only by chance that I walked into my office today and found the paperwork. I'm beginning to believe this court deliberately kept me in the dark."

Rhihorn's eyes narrowed. "Last warning, Lieutenant. You're treading dangerously close to contempt. These are serious accusations, and you have no proof."

Aldermoon's patience snapped. "This is absurd!" she erupted, her calm veneer breaking. "This is a travesty of justice. You know it, I know it, and I'm positive opposition agrees with me! I have every right to call witnesses, to build a defense, and to challenge your involvement in this case. If anyone else were running this court, I'd be granted that right. Your personal vendetta against the accused is obvious, and I will make sure the Archduke hears of it."

Rhihorn rolled his eyes, slamming the gavel onto the desk. "Sergeant Salo, arrest the defense for contempt of court."

Sergeant Salo hesitated, clearly uneasy, but obeyed the captain's command. As he moved toward her, Aldermoon, knowing she had nothing left to lose, turned to Kilyn, desperation creeping into her voice. "Lieutenant Kilyn, back me up! The inquisitor is completely out of line. If we're to honor these proceedings—"

She never finished. The jailer she had knocked down earlier retaliated swiftly, driving his fist into her gut. The blow knocked the air from her lungs, and before she could react, she was tackled to the ground. Aldermoon gasped for breath, struggling against the weight pinning her down. Sergeant Salo, almost apologetic, shackled her wrists.

Rhihorn's voice rang out coldly above the chaos. "Since the defense has vacated their position, I have no choice but to find the accused guilty on all charges."

Aldermoon struggled to speak, her plea barely more than a whisper, but was drowned out by Lieutenant Kilyn's objection and Lura's desperate sobs.

"Sir, the rules—" Kilyn began, but the captain banged his gavel again, silencing her protest.

Ignoring the rising pandemonium, Rhihorn nodded to the jailers. "Criminal punishment for murder and desertion both carry the sentence of execution given at the next available opportunity. The rules," he said while looking down at the protesting Kilyn, "allow minimum of three days wait. Therefore, I order the execution of Ms. Lura three days from now."

The courtroom descended into chaos. Kilyn's protests fell on deaf ears as the two jailers dragged a weeping Lura toward the exit. Aldermoon was being pulled roughly by Salo toward the inquisitor's door, her mind reeling from the unfairness, all the while Rhihorn continued banging his gavel, indifferent to the uproar he'd caused.

Then, just as Aldermoon found her voice again, the front doors burst open with a crash.

Rhihorn whipped around, fury in his eyes. "What is the meaning of this?"

A disheveled private, breathless from his sprint, stood at the entrance, his face pale with fear. Ignoring the chaos in the room, he walked right past the jailers hauling Lura away and focused on Rhihorn.

"Captain," the private stammered, "I just came from the southern border. A beast army has destroyed the outpost there. They're marching on Goldale."

The room fell deathly silent. Even Lura's sobs ceased as all eyes turned toward the private, waiting for the full weight of his news to sink in.

Rhihorn's bravado faltered. Sweat beaded on his brow, and for the first time since entering the court room, his voice wavered. "How many?"

The private swallowed hard, his voice and body trembling as he spoke.

"Thousands."