PIRATE KING’S LOVE CHILD?
I hate them all.
But I don’t blink.
“Madam Director,” a council officer says beside me. “The Council will offer parole. Supervised, restricted. One year.”
“No.”
The word drops like stone.
He frowns. “I—excuse me?”
“Parole is for criminals. He’s not a criminal anymore.”
Garokk’s eyes flick toward me. He doesn’t speak. But I feel the shift in the air. A held breath. A possibility cracking open.
“I’m not asking,” I say.
I turn to the cameras.
And I speak.
Not to the council. Not to the station.
To the galaxy.
“My name is Isolde Verrix, Director of Outreach for Orbimall One. I am a diplomat. A mother. And I stand here today beside the man who risked everything to save innocent lives—who took back his own ship from a traitor’s hands and bled to protect what mattered.”
My voice holds.
Clear. Sure. Sharp.
“He is not perfect. Neither am I. But he isnotyour villain.”
I see the feed delay—my own image reflecting back through the glass wall behind me. I see Garokk, still as stone. I see Pyramus, blinking wide-eyed at his mother like she just split the sky open.
“Garokk was a pirate,” I continue. “But so were half the founders of your corporations. He was branded, hunted, and abandoned. And yet here he stands—not as a prisoner, but as a man who did theright thing.And now?”
I lift my chin.
“I am demanding amnesty.”
Gasps ripple through the chamber. The council chair goes pale. One of the security officers swears under his breath. I don’t care.
“I’ve reviewed the statutes,” I say. “There is precedent. Crisis redemption clause. Section 14.3. You want your station back. You want the feeds to calm down. You want to look like you still have control? Thengrant him clemency.Seal the record.”
They stammer. They argue.
I don’t listen.
Because I have one thing they don’t.
Leverage.
And a lot of money.
Orbimall One’s redevelopment fund was boosted by a silent investor years ago.
