It was a rather cool day on Leeds. Four men, lined up in a single file line held Assault Rifles, wearing Military Police uniforms. Standing, tied to a pole not to far was Ensign Gregory Edwards, a pilot that flew with Austin for a short time.
"You have been tried and found guilty on the following accounts, Munity, Murder, Theft of Military Ships and Hardware, Communicating with the enemy and furnishing supplies to both the Corsairs and Kusari." The man paused. "Any last words?"
Gregory stayed quiet. Though he was staring directly at Austin, who was wearing his Armed Forces uniform.
"No last words?" The man said looking over at the firing squad. "Ensign Edwards, as you've been found guilty of betraying Her Majesty, and your fellow pilots. You shall be put to death by firing squad. Ready."
The firing squad cocked their rifles.
"Aim."
They raised their rifles to their shoulders and took aim.
The man calling the action walked over holding a piece of chulk and drew an 'X' on Gregory's uniform, backing out of the way. Once he was clear he stood at attention, looking at the firing squad.
"Fire." He said, a loud burst of rounds shot out, the bullets rippled through the air striking Gregory in the 'X' killing him.
"Waste of a Uniform." Austin said as the Ensign doubled over, his lifeless body hanging by the bounds that were tied to his wrists. "To think. He actually seemed to have sense." Austin started to laugh as he turned around and walked off to his awaiting car. "Thinking MI5 wouldn't catch him." His laughter died off as he carried his smirk into the car. "Never liked him anyways, so bloody annoying."
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