The morning of the third day finally arrived with Guards entering the holding cells before dawn. Energy barriers deactivated. Restraints re-engaged.
"On your feet. Trial begins in one hour."
Owen stood. His body was stiff from days of confinement. He stretched what little the restraints allowed.
Across the corridor, Gorvax rose without a word.
They were escorted through the station. Sterile corridors. Silent except for footsteps.
Other prisoners watched from their cells as they passed. Thoss. Vrinn. Yalira. Korvan. Their expressions ranged from sympathy to resignation.
Yalira called out: "Good luck, False Fist. Hopefully prison world is your final sentence and not execution!"
Owen nodded once.
The guards led them to a transport platform. A small vessel designed for short-range station travel. They were loaded inside. No windows. Just metal walls and the hum of engines.
The ride was brief. Five minutes. Maybe less.
The doors opened.
They had arrived.
---
