Waes Itor closed the bar early for the first time since he opened it.
Sickness didn't close those doors.
The ransacking of District Quay didn't close those doors.
Even the drought didn't close them.
S'kabba, however, the idea of seeing her once more. That closed the doors, even if only for 1 hour.
I'act raced off to join the assembly while Waes locked up. For once, the Triskani was a welcome sight in his bar. For once, the lizard said something of use.
The walkways were busier than usual. Of course they would have been. It wasn't every day Confederation prisoners were brought to Freeport. It wasn't every day that an execution occurred. It wasn't every day that S'kabba made a public demonstration. It would be a special day, Waes decided, as he picked up his pace and allowed excitement to engulf his spirit.
He made it to Central Square. Walkways reached down and connected to the large platform. Each was a tendril leading to a different district. His own was on the same level as the platform, which made it hard to see anything beyond the assembled mob.
They were an obstacle to be overcome. Bodies of all corners of Free Space. Moulded together to form an impenetrable fortress of flesh.
Waes was flanked on all sides as he got closer. He was alone here; none of them were living, breathing, thinking beings. No. They were an annoyance blocking his path. He pushed forward, weaving his way through the crowd. There was resistance, but persistence let him pass. A shove, a bump, a nudge. He found his way through. The heat rose significantly as he reached the centre of the crowd, but he paid it no mind.
"This is a real Freeport welcome!" A voice boomed over the sound system.
The crowd replied with a cheer. It wasn't a unified cheer, however. It was the sound of a thousand dialects joining together to make a droning noise.
With each step, the large platform became clear. S'kabba's personal guard surrounded the perimeter, holding back the wave of bodies. They wore the same uniform. Black armour plates, dark patches on a field of purple cloth. Face masks concealed them. Eyes of fire peered out, watching for any threat to their queen. Rifles at the ready. They were Human, Triskani, Doshen, Gnosian, Mulu, Zun Kulla, Rotchi; all people from all worlds, unified as one, they served one person and Freeport as a whole.
Beyond them, a line of mostly Humans knelt, scared and awaiting their sentence.
