by Max Jager
"Without a doubt, sir. Our studies show a direct correlation between titroxin concentration and muscle mass. Reflexes and overall awareness also showed sharp spikes as a result of said chemical."
"There a downside to this miracle drug?"
"One minute."
"Excuse me?"
"After approximately one minute, give or take, the subject's caloric energy reserves are essentially used up, causing the drug to feed off organs to provide energy for the frenzy. For our man, however, I'd probably estimate two minutes."
"Based on your current tests, I think you only got the tip of the iceberg. You know as well as I do that he's only guilty at level four. But what if we could get him to face a marauder and measure his concentrations during the bout?"
"Then I say we get Drel his first loss."
"Heh... you know Arden. He eats right out of Drel's hand. There's no way he'd up the verdict just for a little science experiment."
"This is much more than just an experiment, Dane. It could provide the foundation for a much more elite and adept fighting force, capable of conquering planets by brute force."
"Yeah, great idea, genius. We have the best fighting force in the universe except they wipe themselves out in a minute."
"That's where you are wrong. My team is currently designing a suit that can hold energy and feed it to the body in times of need. Our men need not risk losing their organs."
"Okay, alright. I guess I'm a believer in your campaign for now. I'll give it more thought, and we can discuss the budget later."
"Thank you, sir. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. As for his Highness eating out of Erand's hand, I think we can do something to get us the outcome we need."
6:12 p.m.
Jaren had moved from his cell to the defendant's chair in a timely fashion, although the whole thing seemed like a blur to him. The ornately fashioned courthouse, made mostly out of marble but dazzling with specks of gold, seemed like a chamber of scandal rather than justice. Justice, he knew, need not be presented in a pretty package. Still, the defendant's chair was as handsomely furnished as the other exquisite pieces in the room and allowed Jaren plenty of comfort. The desks for the prosecution and defense stood on either side of the judge's chair on opposite ends of the court, facing each other. For this case, the prosecution had an equally reputable attorney by the name of Brent Knox. He was neither young nor fair-looking like Erand but sported the same silvery-white robes and confident demeanor. Before Jaren could take in anymore of the sumptuous and surreal atmosphere, the voice of the bailiff echoed throughout the building, "All rise! His Majesty, The Emperor is presiding."
Hundreds of pairs of legs moved at once to lift their persons off the ground. From a set of double doors located just behind his seat, Emperor Arden emerged. Jaren remembered him taking power at the very young age of nineteen, right after Serann, his father, was assassinated. While his authority as ruler of the Empire seemed to pull Jaren by his collar, he also had a sort of simplicity about him. Like the other public servants in the court, he too wore plain white robes, except his had highlights of deep purple. Ironically, his robes appeared even less gaudy than those of the two lawyers. As far as Jaren could tell, his eyes were a shade of dark brown or black. His hair was brown in color and extended just past the base of his neck. His skin appeared firm but wrinkled enough to place his age somewhere between forty and forty-five years.
After taking his seat in the lofted judge's chair, he motioned for the rest of the room to do the same. Silence filled the chamber as the Emperor donned a pair of half-moon spectacles, greased his finger and flipped through a few pieces of paper. He cleared his throat.
"On the options of not guilty, level two, level four, and level five, how does the defendant, Mr. Jaren Sikel, plead?"
"Level four, my lord," Erand replied.
A few whispers ensued in the audience, immediately cut off by the rapping of the Emperor's mallet.
"Does the defendant have any dispute to this plea?" Arden asked.
"No, Your Honor," Jaren said firmly.
"Very well. This trial shall dispute whether the defendant has guilt at the fifth level. Namely, the murder of his overseer, Kraen Vendhal. Mr. Knox, you may proceed with your opening statement."
"Thank you, Your Honor." Brent replied tartly.
The prosecutor cleared his throat, yet uttered nothing for almost half a minute. Words finally began to flow from his mouth like water that had sprung from a leak in a dam.
"My lord," he began abruptly. "I see no need to attempt to prosecute the defendant on the charge of his overseer's murder."
He paused again, allowing the court to erupt into animated chatter and quickly die down from the thud of Emperor's hammer and his shouts of "Order!"
"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Knox?" the Emperor sneered. "You are telling me that you are not prepared to prosecute a case of such gravity?"
"On the contrary, Your Highness, the defense has done all the work for me," Brent replied in a light-hearted tone. "I have here a new judicial law just passed by the Parliament an hour ago. It reads that guilt of two or more charges of a certain level will automatically result in guilt at one level higher than those charges, namely level five."
"Objection!" Erand spat, as though he had held the word on the tip of his tongue. "The Emperor has already stated that the trial will be disputed at the fifth level. Besides, neither I nor he was aware of this law at the time of its upbringing. Therefore, I demand this law be inapplicable to this trial."
The Emperor sighed, keeping his voice deceptively calm and free of emotion. "Do you take me for a fool, Brent? Having a law of such importance passed a mere hour before a certain capital trial? Surely some amount of foul play was involved with this. You are truly pathetic in trying to find a back door to defeat Erand's prowess. I have given you too many chances to redeem yourself and am sad to say that you have failed each one. If you do not care to leave now, my guards will escort you from the room."
"This is justice denied, my lord!" Brent spat back. "I have clear evidence that Sikel murdered Kraen Vendhal!"
"And I have clearer evidence that he didn't!" Erand interjected.
"This isn't the end, Drel!" Brent croaked as he stormed out of the room.
Erand kept his peace and the Emperor spoke again, "We will have to revert the prosecution to the backup lawyer."
Erand smirked and turned to Jaren. "It's going to be a piece of cake now. I have us a bulletproof witness."
From the crowd emerged another figure with black hair and dark brown skin, also wearing public servant robes. The man at first sight appeared meek and timid but spoke with a firm voice. "I accept the role of the prosecution, Your Majesty."
The Emperor nodded. "Please state your name for the record."
"Sindra Velbane."
Erand cursed under his breath, "Fucking hell."
Jaren pretended not to notice Erand's sudden drop in confidence.
"Proceed with your opening statement, prosecutor," the Emperor entreated.
Sindra took the podium, cleared his throat and began his opening statement. "Your Honor, I have evaluated the level five charge against the defendant and will proceed to persuade you to hand down a guilty verdict. Now that the defense has admitted guilt at the fourth level, in which notably emerges the murder of Drek Bl-"
"Objection!" Erand cried. "I do suggest you re-read my plea statement. Although I have marked down guilty of Drek's murder, I have also noted that this charge be nullified on the account of justified self-defense if it were to come up."
"Very well, Mr. Drel. The prosecution and defense will first dispute the nature of Drek Black's murder now that the relevance has been established. Mr. Velbane, you may begin your statement on this," Arden mediated.
"I have looked at the evidence," Sindra recited, "and admit that a struggle occurred between the defendant and the victim on the night of the murder. Knuckle marks consistent with those of Drek's fist were found on the defendant's torso.
However, note the method in which the defendant disposed of the victim's life."
Sindra pushed a button on his desk, causing a large amorphous blob of plasma to form in the middle of the room, which changed to a gruesome image: Drek's bloodied face at the time of his death, split along the line of the nose. Much of the audience recoiled at the sight of it.
"When the defendant was detained, blood residue matching that of Drek was found on his shoe. For such a serious wound to be made to the face, our analysts have determined that the defendant executed the killing blow while the victim was defenseless, lying in a face-up position. I submit their written report to the court as evidence."
"The court accepts your evidence. Based on the prosecution's argument, it seems clear that the defendant had the upper hand in the bout and executed a coupe-de-grace out of cold blood. Let's see if the defense can shed any light on this matter," the Emperor mused.
"Gladly, Your Honor. For this purpose, the defense calls Simon Cliff to the stand. Mr. Cliff was the victim of attempted murder by Drek some years ago and can comment on his aggressive nature," Erand obliged.
"I object!" The prosecutor exclaimed. "We are currently examining the defendant's aggressive nature. I protest to the mudslinging of the victim, whom I might add is already dead and harmless."
"He has a good point, Erand. If you cannot establish relevance within one round of testimony, the court will disregard the witness and penalize your credibility," Arden added.
"I assure Your Majesty that this witness shall reveal the silver lining in the gray cloud of this case," Erand said in a vaguely philosophical tone.
"In that case, the court allows the witness to take the stand," the Emperor conceded.
A young man of approximately Jaren's age arose from the audience and approached the witness stand. He appeared to have somewhat firm and solid physical features, with the exception of his face, which lopsided from left to right. His left ear was slightly higher than his right, and his mouth was crooked in the same manner. His nose appeared to have its bridge broken before. His eyes, however, were aligned and seemed unaffected by any sort of facial damage.
Once Simon had sworn the Oath of Truth, Erand addressed him.
"Mr. Cliff, is it true that you worked as a colleague with the defendant and the victim in question?"
"It is, sir," the witness replied meekly.
"How would you describe the general demeanor of each of them?"
Before Simon could answer, Sindra spouted an objection, citing irrelevance, but was denied.
"Mr. Sikel was always a calm and friendly man, sir. Rarely ever lost his temper around the factory even during the toughest times of the job. Always kept a straight face even when everyone else felt like cussing like a space rogue," Simon pondered.
"And the victim, Mr. Drek Black?" Erand asked with an uplifted tone.
"He had some kind of temperamental disorder, I believe, 'cause he always had something to cuss at or complain about, and boy was he audible. Even from two floors above, you could make out the ruckus."
"Can you tell me about the day Mr. Black attempted to kill you?"
"Course. 'Twas about five years ago last month. We had just finished work for the day and were heading home when Drek suddenly offered to treat everyone to a drink at the local pub. You see sir, I try to be sober, and therefore I respectfully declined his offer. However, this seemed to get on the wrong side of him, and he accused me of hating his guts. I denied that, and he called me a liar. I tried to flee from him, hoping to avoid an argument, but he was too quick. He caught up to me in the back alley of the factory and brutally beat me into submission. He had just kicked me into a face-up position when the overseer spotted him, at which point he regained his temper and allowed himself to be detained for the crime."
Erand scratched his chin. "I see. Would you think the defendant would ever be emotionally capable of deliberately doing something like that?"
"Objection!" Sindra fired. "Questioning the proven."
Erand held back from disputing, "Nothing further, Your Honor."
Sindra stood up at his desk and addressed Simon.
"Mr. Cliff, would you have any explanation at all as to why the attempted execution of your murder is identical to the defendant's disposal of the victim?"
"I do not, sir."
"Have you ever seen the victim and defendant get into a spat of any kind?"
"Not really, sir. In fact, they seemed to be friendly toward each other until Drek erupted the night of his murder out of jealousy."
"Jealousy? Of what?" Sindra inquired, appearing to sound slightly astonished.
"Jaren's new post, sir. And possibly because Jaren hadn't told him about it at all. The others and I only found out when Drek read the letter like a drunkard."
"And then what happened?"
"Drek accused Jaren of bailing on him, and Jaren fled, only to be chased out. I feared Jaren wouldn't be as lucky as I was."
"Please limit your testimony to clear, unbiased facts, witness," The Emperor interrupted.
"And what happened afterward? Did you witness their brawl?" Sindra continued.
"I don't know. I stayed in the factory for my own protection."
"But you said earlier that the defendant seemed a kind man. Wouldn't you have wanted to help him? Surely two or more of you could have suppressed Drek in numbers."
"Objection, hypothetical," Erand muttered, as if he thought Sindra had made an elementary mistake.
"Sustained. Please keep your line of questioning to what actually happened, prosecutor," Arden concurred.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," Sindra uttered without losing an ounce of poise. "Now, where was I? Ah yes. Moving on to my evidence presented earlier. How can you explain Mr. Sikel's foot ending up on Drek's face? If the defendant had already subdued the victim, wouldn't that clearly have been enough for someone of his refined manner?"
Simon hesitated, mustering his thoughts, and finally managed, "I cannot explain that, sir. If the evidence says he did that, I've no idea how to explain it."
Jaren's blood curdled again. Even he could not explain how his foot ended up on Drek's face, although he was certain it had to do with his trigger. He now had a rather terrifying feeling that he would have to take the stand in his own defense in order to avoid the trial changing tide in favor of Sindra. The fear of conviction at the fifth level crept into his mind.
Erand whispered gravely to him, "Jaren, I am no longer confident of us winning here. I need you to take the stand. You're the last hope we have for this trial. Remember that there must be no mention of it, understand?"
Jaren understood that Erand was referring to his ability and nodded.
Sounding to Jaren like an echo from miles away, Sindra finished his cross-examination, "Nothing further."
B1 Chapter 6
VI
6:03 p.m.
Jaren could hear his heart beating clearly and felt his pulse assail his eardrums. Not even pausing to take a breath, he stoically approached the witness stand upon being called by Erand. The Oath of Truth seemed like a blur, entering through one ear and exiting the other, "Do.. you.. solemnly.. swear.. to.. tell.. the.. whole truth.. and nothing but.. the truth?" It took Jaren a few seconds to focus his mind and answer yes.
Emperor Arden gestured toward Erand. "Mr. Drel, you can begin questioning."
Erand took a deep breath and, in a rehearsed manner, looked Jaren squarely in the eye.
"Mr. Sikel, was it or was it not Mr. Black who initiated the fight after learning of your post?"
Jaren closed his eyes, recalling the moment he had dropped his letter by accident and the events that occurred in the minutes afterward, "Yes sir. He was agitated that I would have the opportunity to work here as opposed to the factory, which was a much poorer working environment."
"And therefore his temper got out of hand, causing him to assault you?"
"That's correct."
"Did he proceed to make physical contact right a
way, or did he begin with words?"
"He started with words, but he didn't say much, something to the extent of 'leaving him in this piece of shit.'"
"Where 'this piece of shit' would refer to your previous place of employment?"
"Correct."
"What happened next?"
"I knew he could get physical right away so I decided to flee the factory, only to find him right on my tail as I was exiting through the alley."
"And then?"
"Knowing he could outpace virtually anyone in an adrenaline rush, I braced myself to dodge his first incoming punch, which I did, but ended up contacting his forearm instead with my forehead. That stunned me long enough to allow him to land a powerful blow on my abdomen, causing me to cringe and fall over."
