Chapter 73 Shadow of Restitution, Lorian
SHADOW OF RESTITUTION, LORIAN
I’m outside the IGC tribunal, and as soon as the verdict has been made, the words begin streaming across the top of the massive hallway:
Relief floods through me. They managed. Rafe and Zira actually did it. Thank the goddesses. But this vote only ends the current argument surrounding Eve’s IGC punishment, it doesn’t end the human slave trade across the galaxy.
I stand in the waiting area and watch the crowd pass. So many women. I forget sometimes what it feels like on-planet. I stand almost invisible to these women, and impatiently wait for Rafe and Zira.
“Well done,” I say when I finally see them.
Rafe nods. “Thank you. Human slavery has become a bit more illegal now—but, I have no doubt, as a reaction, it’ll become even more profitable, hidden, and contested. This was only one battle in the long war.”
“But it was our first public battle,” Zira says, “and now it’s made the conflict visible. And by doing so, more people will talk openly about it.”
“Hopefully, in a good way,” I say.
“You should have been in the courtroom. You were part of this too, Lorian,” Rafe says.
I don’t answer. Instead, I create a privacy bubble around us.
“My time was better spent collecting this while everyone was watching your show.” I tap my wrist console and bring up Eve’s confidential case summary.
“Jin Kol argued to DOUBLE Eve’s sentence and to make an example of her before her sentencing.
Listen to what he says about her.” I play the clip.
A hologram ignites—clean, official, unmistakably real.
EVE EDEN — CONFIDENTIAL CASE SUMMARY
Status: Reclassified
Recommendation: Sentence Enhancement
Jin Kol’s voice is sharp. “No human should be allowed to dress in galactic women’s attire.
No human should hold symbolic authority.
The Ascendant Alliance blurred the galactic hierarchy by letting Eve Eden stand where she did.
The liaison role was a mistake. Visibility like that creates entitlement, and humans may be sentient, but they aren’t that kind of sentient. ”
“And then,” I say, “he sold this.” I open another document on my IC for our eyes only. “He sold the video of our conjugal visit and her whipping.”
“Seventeen times,” I say. “He sold her suffering for almost fifty thousand credits. And that is only what he logged. I told you it was womb-burner Jin Kol, all along.” I close the file and open a new one. “And now I also know exactly where he’s run to.”
REASSIGNMENT CONFIRMED
ARIEL STATION — IMPERIAL BORDER
I make eye contact with Rafe and Zira. “He’s been discreetly reassigned to Ariel Station, on the border of Imperial space.”
“What are you going to do, Lorian?” Zira asks.
Rafe’s jaw tightens. “Lorian, we have what we want—”
“No. You and Zira took care of half of what we want, the legalities. Now let me collect the other half, the blood payment Jin Kol owes us.”
“Lorian, Jin Kol isn’t worth it,” Zira says. “I know seeing this hurts you, but don’t let your emotions guide you now.”
“No, he isn’t worth it,” I agree. “But Eve is. We’ve put her through hell, and we can’t expect her to come back with us unless Jin Kol is dead, and preferably by my hand. It has to happen, or none of us will be able to move on.”
“This isn’t the Empire,” Zira says. “I don’t think Eve would want you to kill for her.”
“You don’t know our Eve,” I say.
Rafe searches my eyes. “If you must go.”
“I must.”
Rafe puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Be careful. Jin Kol is not a man who plays by the rules.”
“Thankfully, neither am I,” I say as I walk away.
The Nocturne’s Edge is waiting for me. I board and head straight for the bridge.
Vo stands at the forward console.
“Ariel Station,” I say. “Maximum velocity. Go dark the moment we cross into the system’s space.”
He doesn’t question the order. “I’ve already plotted the jumps.” But Vo’s hands pause over the controls. “I have one question,” he says carefully.
“Ask.”
He turns just enough to meet my eyes. “Is this going to be legal?”
“I hope so, but I’m not going to let legality determine the outcome.”
Vo nods. “Prepare to jump in three-two-one…”
Space peels apart like an electric iris, the black split by white fire. Stars stretch, smear, lose all individuality as the Nocturne’s Edge slides forward and reality gives way. The stars dissolve into ribbons of light, and then into nothing at all.
The shrine aboard my vessel comes to life as I enter naked. Reverently, I set the incense rods into the seven small braziers, one for each of the twelve Imperial goddesses. Within seconds, the air thickens with the sacred smoke of bloodroot, and I call to each goddess, emotion tinging my voice.
The lights around the shrine shift with each name—blue for mercy, gold for judgment, crimson for vengeance—until I’m kneeling in a ring of living color.
My sword lies across the consecrated floor before me as a symbol of why I’m here now.
Its hilt is aligned to the silver crest of the High Priestess at the Grand City Temple in the heart of the Empire.
“I will not ask you to bless a duel you did not demand,” I say to the goddesses. “But I will ask you to witness it.”
I press my palm against the blade, feeling the familiar, hot sting as it cuts my hand.
Red blood spreads across the steel, and the sensors in the floor absorb it as part of my offering.
“Through devotion, we ascend,” I pray. “I offer my blood to the goddesses not for forgiveness, but for clarity. Let my strike be clean. Let vengeance serve justice, not pride.”
I repeat the words until they lose all meaning and become only rhythm.
Each repetition steadies my breath, centers my rage, and when I think of Eve—her face at the trial, the way Jin Kol’s lies condemned her, the look in her eyes when we left the Obsidian Palace—I strike the blade against the ground and shout, “Bear witness, goddesses! I will set this balance right for Eve, my true other half.”
The holographic goddesses shimmer, their jeweled eyes bright as stars. For a second, I swear I hear them answer—twelve voices all at once, “Then rise, Shadow Sovereign Lorian. The goddesses have seen you. We will witness your justice.”
When I stand, I watch as my blood runs down my blade. I know the goddesses have not given me their absolution, but rather their permission to kill this womb-burner.
As I blow out the candles, I remind myself that Imperial law still recognizes the Rite of Restitution—an ancient clause allowing blood duels between nobles and officials accused of dishonor.
The IGC keeps it on the books for ceremony, never expecting anyone to invoke it.
But soon, I’ll remind the IGC of what those old words still mean, and no one will be able to dispute that I was in the right.
We come up on the Ariel Post, slow and sure. The station hangs in space, old and decrepit, patched and leaning, still running, but way past its prime.
“Jam all her communications,” I say.
“Done,” Vo replies. “She’s older than I thought. It looks like she has hull plating from three different yards. And judging by the manifests, not much traffic.”
“Perfect,” I say.
“Unfortunately for you, there won’t be many to witness your justice.”
“All that matters to me is that I do it and there’s at least one witness for me. You. And I’m sure Jin Kol will find some lackey to witness for him.”
“It will be an honor to attend you,” Vo bows. “And if I may, I suggest we bring the cohort with us, just in case.”
I don’t want to bring them. I want to board the station with just Vo behind me and my sword, in the traditional way. But I remember Rafe’s words: Jin Kol is not an honorable man. So I agree with Vo.
The docking hatch opens with a hiss, and at the last minute, I decide to take off all my clothing here.
I don’t tell Vo or my men what I’m doing.
I don’t have to; they understand. Belt, trousers, coat, shirt, rings.
Even the insignia at my throat. When I lift my sword from its case, the sound of the latch echoes louder than it should.
“Seal the ship,” I say. “No one comes on or off until we return.”
Vo gives a short nod. “Understood, Sovereign.”
As we enter, the cold air hits my naked body hard, and a tremor of chills passes through me. But it doesn’t take long for my body to adjust and my rage to keep me warm. Behind me, Vo and the Umbral Cohort follow, ready for any foul play.
Ariel Station is half-dead—an old Imperial station forgotten by the trade routes. The corridors are patched with scrap. A handful of workers stop when they see us, their mouths half-open, and their eyes wide.
“Jin Kol!” I yell, ignoring my audience. “Jin Kol of the IGC! Present yourself. It is I, Lorian, of the Ascendant Alliance. I have come for justice. Come out, you coward.” My voice carries through the half-empty corridors.
A door opens down the hall; two figures step out, then three. None of them are Jin Kol, but they all begin following us as we pass. I reflect that this might be the most excitement that’s happened on this station for more than a decade.
Vo tells me, “He’s masking his signature, Sovereign. I can’t pin him exactly, but he’s definitely still here. And no one has left the station since we entered the system.”
Which is why we came in dark. “He can’t hide forever. The station isn’t that big or crowded.”
I walk the length of the promenade naked, with my sword in hand. Ready for a duel. Ready to punish Jin Kol for what he did to Eve… and… what he made us do to Eve.
At the end of the promenade, the station’s guards stand in clusters—thin and sickly. One of them lowers his weapon as I pass.
I ask, “Where is Jin Kol? I’m looking for him.”
“He’s in the upper mess,” the guard says. “He’s been drinking since morning. Said that we all deserved to be pushed out the airlock.”
I nod. “Fine. Step aside, please.”
They all do without hesitation.