Editing LotS/The Story/Politics of War/Courtroom

'''Courtroom'''
<br>
The cruiser remains on the periphery of the Sol System for some time, while UHW personnel confirm its credentials. They were informed of the Princess’ arrival in advance, in accordance with protocol. And judging by the ambush you encountered on your way, it seems that they were inept at best when it came to preserving the sanctity of that information.
<br><br>
At last you’re given permission to enter the system and approach Earth, in the midst of an escort. No group is permitted a military presence in the system other than the UHW itself, beyond embassy security and bodyguards. Hence there are firm restrictions on the movements of cruisers and other large vessels that have been equipped for war.
<br><br>
“So that’s Earth?” Telemachus says, gazing at the blue and green spheroid that grows larger with each passing moment. There’s wonder in his voice. A short time ago he had no memories of any world other than his native Gallea. Earth, the ancient homeland of humanity, must have seemed remote indeed.
<br><br>
“See that bit up there?” asks Ragnar, pointing to the northern reaches of Europe. “That’s where the original Niflungs lived. Heh. Looks just like a-”
<br><br>
He breaks off as Talia surreptitiously stomps on his foot, perhaps taking the hint that his vulgarisms aren’t appropriate before a child and a princess.
<br><br>
“It’s hard to believe all the humans in the galaxy used to live on that one planet,” says the young prince.
<br><br>
“There weren’t so many of us in those days,” you reply.
<br><br>
For several minutes you all stand in silence, looking out at the blue dot. It’s hard to grasp the antiquity involved, to envision people living savage lives for tens of thousands of years before one day rising up to take their place in the galaxy. Somehow Earth always seems almost magical, as though you’re looking upon a fabulous heirloom.
<br><br>
“You’re cleared for planetfall,” says a voice from the communicator, bringing your shared reverie to a close.
<br><br>
You head to the shuttle bay alongside your companions, an ill matched assortment of individuals who hope to sway the destiny of human space. The task before you will be difficult. But this is Princess Illaria’s domain. She’s been trained for politics and diplomacy almost from the time of her birth. If anyone can turn the Union of Human Worlds against the Centurians, it’s her.
<br><br>
As your vehicle descends towards the planet, Wilex’s cruiser is already moving away – being escorted back to the edge of the system.
<br><br>
***
<br><br>
You know there’s trouble the instant the hatch opens, and you step off the shuttle.
<br><br>
A group of men and women in the blue uniforms of the UHW’s security force are approaching across the landing pad, laser rifles in their hands. A short distance behind them are two figures in drab grey.
<br><br>
“Centurians,” says the Princess.
<br><br>
“No violence,” you say. “That means you, Ragnar. You too, Tel. Remember – we’re here for diplomacy. There’ll be plenty of time to kill Centurians later.”
<br><br>
Ragnar grunts in what you hope is acquiescence. Telemachus says nothing.
<br><br>
The deputation draws close, and when you see the smug looks on the Centurians’ faces you almost forget your own admonition. The temptation to draw your sidearm and shoot them off is almost overwhelming. But you stay your hand, and wait as one of the UHW people steps forward. Judging by her uniform, she’s a person of some importance.
<br><br>
“Princess Illaria?” she asks.
<br><br>
“Yes.”
<br><br>
“Your Highness, I’ve been authorized to take you and the captain of your bodyguards into custody.”
<br><br>
The Princess raises her hand, forestalling the exclamations which were about to fly from your lips, and likely those of your companions as well.
<br><br>
“On what grounds?” she asks.
<br><br>
“For your unprovoked attack on a Centurian vessel!” one of the Centurians cries out.
<br><br>
You grab Ragnar’s arm as he starts to move. It’s like grasping hold of a metal pillar. But the Niflung stops all the same, refraining from leaping at the Centurian and tearing him limb from limb.
<br><br>
“You were given permission to be present at the arrest,” the woman in the fancy uniform says, glaring at the Centurian, “not to interfere. Keep quiet, or I’ll have you removed.”
<br><br>
The Centurian shrugs, the smugness on his face undiminished.
<br><br>
“The Centurian Collective has charged that a pilot under your command carried out a fatal act of violence against one of their ships,” she says, turning back to the Princess. “I’ve been ordered to take the two of you into custody while the matter can be adjudicated.”
<br><br>
The Princess looks to you, her face impassive but her eyes betraying her shock. A simple stratagem, but one you somehow hadn’t foreseen. The events leading up to the Centurian attack on the Sian Empire seemed to you so obvious a pretext, so blatantly an excuse to start a war, that you hadn’t even considered that they might attempt to bring such charges against you here on Earth.
<br><br>
You meet the Princess’ gaze, holding it with your own. She’s waiting for you to help her, as you’ve done so many times in the past. But you’re at as complete a loss as her. Your mind spins as you try to seize hold of something, anything…
<br><br>
“We refuse to comply with your request.”
<br><br>
Lu Bu’s elegant, cultured voice pierces the fog of your confusion. All eyes turn to him in surprise.
<br><br>
“Excuse me?” the officer says.
<br><br>
“Your request is not legally binding, and as such we are quite at liberty to reject it.”
<br><br>
The UHW soldiers begin to raise their weapons in anticipation of violence. But if Lu Bu notices the gesture, he ignores it.
<br><br>
“Heads of state are not obliged to allow themselves to be taken into custody unless they have been convicted of – not merely charged with – a crime of sufficient severity.”
<br><br>
“The Princess isn’t the head of the Sian Empire!” one of the Centurians cries out.
<br><br>
“I won’t tell you again – keep quiet!” says the officer, her eyes remaining fixed on Lu Bu as though trying to scrutinize and fathom the robot. “But he’s right. The Emperor is your head of state.”
<br><br>
“Under the laws of both the Sian Empire and the Union of Human Worlds, Her Highness is the acting head of state while the Emperor is presumed to be a prisoner of war, and hence unable to carry out his official duties.”
<br><br>
“I don’t-”
<br><br>
“If you doubt my understanding of the law, you’re free to consult with your superiors. They will bear out my argument.”
<br><br>
You glance at the Centurians, and see the look that passes between the two of them. It’s enough to confirm that Lu Bu’s right. They know they’re beaten on that score.
<br><br>
“What about her captain?” one of them yells.
<br><br>
“Remove those men!” the officer says.
<br><br>
A few of the soldiers break away from the main group, and approach the Centurians. The two men in grey look to be on the verge of resistance. But they comply without a word – clearly unwilling to risk jeopardizing their faction’s political efforts by resisting arrest and invoking the ire of the UHW.
<br><br>
“You’ll have to come with me,” the officer says, facing you.
<br><br>
“No,” says Lu Bu. “The captain is likewise immune from such measures for the time being.”
<br><br>
“On what basis?” The officer’s words aren’t hostile, and there’s no disbelief in them. It seems she’s beginning to realize just how capable the robot is in such matters.
<br><br>
“Lawyers representing themselves or other parties in such a case cannot be taken into custody until that case reaches its conclusion. As a legal representative in this matter, the captain must remain free until that time.”
<br><br>
“You’re not a lawyer,” the woman says, staring at you. “You’re a bodyguard… a pilot. What do you know about the law?”
<br><br>
“With the greatest of respect,” says Lu Bu, “the fitness or inadequacy of Her Highness’ legal counsel is none of your concern.”
<br><br>
For the next several minutes the officer talks into a communicator, reiterating Lu Bu’s arguments – presumably to one of her superiors. Her interlocutor’s words are lost to you, but when she severs the connection she simply arranges for you to sign the appropriate forms on her datapad, and tells you that you’re free to go.
<br><br>
“That was amazing,” the Princess says, once the officer and her soldiers have left.
<br><br>
Lu Bu bows.
<br><br>
“I’m grateful for your praise, Highness. But I’m afraid that further problems await us. The captain is now your official legal representative, and will have to serve in that capacity within the courtroom.”
<br><br>
***
<br><br>
That night, at the Sian embassy, you discuss the bizarre situation in which you find yourselves. Lu Bu assures you that the case the Centurians are bringing can be twisted to serve your own purposes. It will take place before UHW judges, and provide a perfect platform in which to make your accusations against the Collective. The Princess is impressed with this idea, and you have to admit that it’s a good one. But Lu Bu is less convinced that you can be turned into a legal mastermind within a few weeks.
<br><br>
After your evening meal, the robot begins to brief you on the basics of the law, or at least its relevant portions – such as courtroom behavior. He’s barely into the proper forms of address one should use when the Princess is called away to answer an urgent communication.
<br><br>
When she returns, the look on her face speaks of disaster.
<br><br>
“The trial…” she says, as though she can’t quite believe the words which are coming out of her own mouth. “It’s going to start tomorrow!”
<br><br>
“Ah…” says Lu Bu. “A cunning move on the part of the Centurians. Demanding or otherwise arranging a speedy trial, as they know the opposing counsel will be as yet unprepared.”
<br><br>
“Great…” you sigh.
<br><br>
'''Courtroom Drama'''
<br>
When the doors open, and you walk into the courtroom, you feel like you’ve stepped into a dream. You still can’t believe you’re actually going to do this…
<br><br>
The first thing that meets your eyes is the raised bench at the opposite end of the court. Five figures in black robes sit there, the judges who will rule on the case. Each one of them comes from a different faction, representing five of the powers that make up the Union of Human Worlds. Their stares seem to pierce you like lasers, and you drop your gaze to take in the rest of the room instead.
<br><br>
Dozens of faces are turned to you on either side of the aisle – their eyes fixed on you as though they’re sizing you up and judging your worth. A large crowd fills the seats, as you’d expected. A case of this magnitude, set against the backdrop of armed conflict and the astounding accusations TALOS has so recently leveled against the Collective, has captured the interest of all the disparate factions of humanity. There are even a few aliens in the crowd, who apparently also regard this trial as being of some importance, or else believe it might offer an interesting spectacle.
<br><br>
In the front row on the right hand side, you see grey-clad men with mocking sneers on their faces. The Centurian lawyer and his retinue. Your adversaries in this battle.
<br><br>
You look over to the opposite side of the aisle, where your companions are sitting. The Princess’ smiling face is filled with confidence, though you can’t help but feel that it’s a mask for your benefit.
<br><br>
“Remember, I’ll be here when you need legal advice,” Lu Bu tells you as you take your seat next to him.
<br><br>
“And I’ll be here if you want someone to rip the Centurians’ spines out,” Ragnar says from over your shoulder.
<br><br>
You listen to your companions’ exhortations and well wishes, and Lu Bu’s last minute legal advice, without really hearing any of it. Only the Princess’ face adheres to the surface of your mind, its look of trust emblazed there like an afterimage of the sun. She’s relying on you. You can’t let her down.
<br><br>
A few minutes later the trial is underway, and the Centurian’s lawyer – Advocate Tulk – is standing at the podium delivering his scathing accusations. You keep your eyes focused in front of you, knowing that if you so much as look at him you might not be able to prevent a murderous expression from crossing your face. And you can feel the judges’ gazes on you, probing you, scanning you for a sign of any effect your opponent’s words might be having on you.
<br><br>
Finally he sits back down, and it’s your turn.
<br><br>
'''In Her Defense'''
<br>
At first you stumble, your words halting and hesitating. But you think back to the episode of the Centurian ship that initiated this entire mess, and of everything which has happened since. You see all the things the Princess and your people have suffered because of the Centurians. Then the words come like a raging river, a passionate torrent.
<br><br>
You tell the judges of what happened on that fateful occasion, when Centurian ships approached the Child of Heaven. And you’re sure you see some of them give slight nods. You continue, making your own accusation against the Centurians – arguing what you know to be the truth, that they orchestrated events to devise a pretext for war against the Sian Empire.
<br><br>
Lu Bu told you that the opening statement was the place to throw as much mud as possible, and so you do. You bring up the matter of Fabricatrix Vespasia and her arrangement with the Centurians, you invoke the specter of the Besalaad, and all that their alliance with the Centurians might portend. Of both you have scant evidence, but you know that the audience might be swayed even if the judges are not. And if the factions the judges represent are brought over to your way of thinking, could they themselves maintain their supposed neutrality?
<br><br>
When you sit back down, the look of approval on the Princess’ face shows you that you did well. Then it’s her turn, as she’s called up to be the case’s first witness.
<br><br>
From the moment she takes the stand, Advocate Tulk goes for the kill. He barks questions at her, yells condemnations, trying to break her beneath the savage barrage of his examination. Illaria looks to you, her eyes wavering, anxious for your support.
<br><br>
'''The Law Is A(n) Ass'''
<br>
You begin to rise, to call out your objection as Tulk hammers her. But Lu Bu grabs your shoulder. He whispers in your ear, and as you look around the courtroom you realize that what he’s telling you is the truth.
<br><br>
So you remain seated, enduring the pain of her discomfort, meeting her eye and willing her as much strength as you can.
<br><br>
There are murmurs around the courtroom, more evidence of Lu Bu’s legal savvy. As he told you, the audience – and perhaps even the judges – are turning against Tulk. Seeing a malevolent, almost lupine lawyer hound a beautiful young princess draws upon their emotions. Just or unjust, it’s helping your case.
<br><br>
And when it’s your turn you build on that. Your own questions are calculated to draw the best out of her, to show the world the kind of woman she is. Her sense of honor, of duty, her love and compassion for her people – all these things are woven into a tapestry before the eyes of those assembled in the courtroom.
<br><br>
By the time she steps off the stand she’s smiling, and her smile is echoed on many faces around the chamber. Justice may not be so blind after all, but as long as she sees things your way you can endure that failing with equanimity.
<br><br>
Next it’s Telemachus who takes the stand, and it’s your turn to ask the first questions.
<br><br>
'''Hostile Witness '''
<br>
You walk the boy through an account of what happened to his father, as the two of you hurriedly planned the night before. You ask your questions slowly, giving him time to steel himself – unwilling to make him suffer any more than can be avoided. But his grief is obvious, and will almost certainly invoke sympathy. As that thought crosses your mind, it occurs to you just how vicious and callous a profession the law is.
<br><br>
You mouth the words “thank you” before turning away and returning to your seat, knowing just how hard that testimony was for him. He gives you a faint smile in response. But it dies from his lips as Advocate Tulk rises.
<br><br>
The Centurian remains at his table, not approaching the stand. Perhaps he’s learned a lesson from the reaction to his questioning of the Princess, and doesn’t want to seem overbearing towards the young boy.
<br><br>
“Prince Telemachus…” The lawyer’s voice is filled with respect and deference as he delivers the title, and the insincerity makes you want to hurt him all the more. “…would you concede that your unprovoked and murderous attack on Centurian men and women was directly responsible for your father’s death?”
<br><br>
There’s a hush in the courtroom, as though the already present silence of the audience has somehow deepened into something almost tangible.
<br><br>
Emotions play across the young prince’s face. There’s anger, there’s shock. And you think there’s something else as well… Guilt. The Centurian’s barb has struck home.
<br><br>
“I…” His lip trembles.
<br><br>
“Objection!” you yell, rising to your feet. “This question-”
<br><br>
“-is entirely relevant,” says Advocate Tulk. “Did my ‘learned’ colleague not bring up the attack on Gallea in an effort to blacken the name of the Centurian Collective? So why should I not be able to delve into the reason for that attack?”
<br><br>
“Overruled!” says the judge on the middle.
<br><br>
You fall back into your chair, wincing as you see the look on the boy’s face. But he fights back his tears, and manages to eclipse sorrow with rage.
<br><br>
“You invaded my planet! That’s why I attacked you!”
<br><br>
“Our soldiers were in hot pursuit of known fugitives,” Tulk replies, “and would have been happy to explain the matter to King Salastro after their apprehension. But instead you slaughtered them, butchered them like animals. Faced with such aggression, such an act of war, what choice did we have but to defend ourselves and retaliate?”
<br><br>
“I’ll kill you!” the boy screams, shaking his fist. “I’ll kill all of you!”
<br><br>
“Really, Prince Telemachus,” he says, “such abuse is quite uncalled for.”
<br><br>
Telemachus screams a cry of pure rage, and jumps over the witness stand’s barrier, landing on the courtroom floor. You leap up in turn, and dash to intercept him as he charges at the Centurians.
<br><br>
“Let me go!” he yells, as you grab hold of him. “I’ll kill him! I’ll tear his heart out!”
<br><br>
He struggles and thrashes in your grasp, his fists beating against your ribs.
<br><br>
“Give him to me,” says Talia, appearing at your side.
<br><br>
She takes hold of the prince, and pulls him down the aisle.
<br><br>
“Get off me!” he screams. “They’ll all die for what they did! All of them!”
<br><br>
His voice dies away as the courtroom doors close behind the two of them. You turn to Tulk, your hands clenching into fists. The lawyer simply smiles.
<br><br>
“Hey!”
<br><br>
You turn around as you hear Ragnar’s voice, and that’s all that stops you from driving your boot through the Centurian’s head. You approach the Niflung.
<br><br>
“Call me next,” he says.
<br><br>
“What? Why-”
<br><br>
“Just call me,” he says.
<br><br>
Under the circumstances, you have to do something… anything… to keep things moving – lest you succumb to the advocate’s provocation. So you nod, and Ragnar is called to the stand.
<br><br>
It’s in the very first moments that the regret begins to sink in. The bailiff approaches him with a datapad, for the swearing-in ceremony which was a brief formality with the previous witnesses.
<br><br>
“Which book would you like?” he asks.
<br><br>
“All of them,” Ragnar replies. “I’m an omni-theist.”
<br><br>
The bailiff taps the datapad’s screen a few times, and holds it out towards him.
<br><br>
“What the hell is this? Do you think I can swear to my god on a stupid piece of tech? Bring me proper books, damn it! Good ones – none of your cheap junk!”
<br><br>
You look to the Princess, and see your confusion mirrored there. Even Lu Bu shrugs, not understanding what the Niflung’s playing at.
<br><br>
Then the bailiff returns, laden down beneath a huge pile of thick, metal-embossed tomes, and misgiving strikes.
<br><br>
“Oh no…” says Lu Bu, as the books are set down within Ragnar’s reach.
<br><br>
“I must protest!” says Advocate Tulk, getting to his feet. “The witness is wasting-”
<br><br>
His flow of eloquence is ended when a huge book crashes against his face. A moment later it’s followed by another. Then another. A volley of scripture rains down upon the hapless lawyer, heavy tomes smashing against him.
<br><br>
The judges yell, the audience yells… The entire courtroom is consumed by the uproar.
<br><br>
“Listen! Quickly!” shouts Lu Bu.
<br><br>
You run to his side, and listen to his hurried whispers.
<br><br>
'''Advocate Tulk'''
<br>
“Order!” roars one of the judges, a huge man with long black hair framing his rough, bearded face. “Order in court, or I’ll take my gavel to the lot of you!”
<br><br>
At last the shouting dies down, and silence rushes to fill the vacuum it’s left behind – punctuated only by the agonized groans of Advocate Tulk as he sprawls face down on the floor.
<br><br>
To your amazement, the judge seems on the verge of laughing. It occurs to you that he’s a Niflung, like your bellicose compatriot.
<br><br>
More bailiffs have appeared from some inner recess, and are converging in front of the witness stand. Ragnar rises to his feet, a grin on his face, and slams a fist into the palm of his other hand. The resounding clunk causes them to retreat a few paces.
<br><br>
“Bailiffs, seize-”
<br><br>
“One moment, Your Honor,” you say, as Lu Bu prompts you with a gesture. “UHW law clearly states that the only crime a witness is eligible to commit on the stand is perjury. Technically it’s impossible for my friend here to have committed assault, grievous bodily harm, attempted murder, or any other offence you may wish to charge him with.”
<br><br>
“That’s not what that law was intended to mean,” says the judge on the far left of the bench.
<br><br>
“Perhaps not,” you reply. “But I’m a lawyer, not a lawmaker.”
<br><br>
The judge sighs.
<br><br>
“Perhaps a brief recess…”
<br><br>
It’s at that moment that Tulk gets to his feet. There’s a gasp from the audience. Part of the flesh on his face has peeled away, revealing gleaming metal and the burning glow of a cybernetic eye. His expression is positively ferocious.
<br><br>
“Time to die, Sian dog!” he snarls.
<br><br>
Long metal blades flick out from the ends of his fingers, and laser energy pools around his artificial eye.
<br><br>
-------------------------------------
<br><br>
The courtroom is a scene of wrack and ruin. All around the chamber wood is scarred, burned, or smashed. Papers are strewn about, nuggets of legal wisdom lying trampled and unforgotten. Other than a few heads poking up from behind the audiences’ seats, you and your companions are the room’s only visible occupants – along with the Centurian lawyer lying motionless on the floor. Most fled when the fighting started.
<br><br>
But after a few moments of awkward silence as you all wonder what to do next, the elderly judge who was sitting in the middle gets to his feet behind the bench.
<br><br>
“Most improper. Most improper indeed. This trial is adjourned till tomor-” He breaks off as he surveys the utter destruction spread out below him. “Until after the weekend.”