Chapter 177
177 Nightmare’s Trial
The courtroom was abuzz with activity as everyone settled into their seats. At the far end of the room atop the judge’s bench sat a pale elderly man in long flowing robes. He looked wise and stern and a little bit long in the tooth.
Behind him was the seal of the Federal Judiciary – a scale with a sword and shield in each of its weight pans. Both were perfectly balanced with each other.
As the judge adjusted his notes and activated his terminal, so too did the court clerk just beneath and in front of his bench. The clerk began tapping away on her terminal even before proceedings officially began.
On one side of the room, to the left of the judge and facing inwards was the jury box, where 12 Helios citizens settled themselves into their seats. They seemed a relatively eclectic group, and consisted of a variety of ages, genders, wealth, and influence. Oddly enough, the one thing that didn’t have much variety was their skin tone – all were light-skinned.
Across the room, and facing the jury were two tables, one for the defense team, and the other for the prosecution.
The table closest to the judge and his clerk was where the defense team sat. There, Nightmare sat next to the lead defense counsel at the table. Their supporting attorneys sat in chairs nearby. All were immaculately dressed in clothing that was clearly expensive
The second table, which sat closer to the public benches, only had two attorneys present. Both wore simple and plain suits, certainly nothing as outlandish or extravagant as the defense team’s outfits.
The zoned-off public benches were filled to the brim with all sorts of people. At least half were Nightmare’s victims. There were corporate observers mixed in as well, whose jobs was simply to observe the trial itself. And unlike the jury box, there truly was an eclectic mix of people here. Skin tones included.
Up front, right next to the prosecutor’s table was the Seven. They too were fixated on the court’s proceedings, and absolutely needed to be there. Not just for themselves, but for all those that Nightmare had victimized as well. It was their way of finally seeing closure on the whole matter.
.....
In all, they were in good spirits, and were looking forward to Nightmare’s sentencing.
The judge quickly called both the lead defense attorney and the lead prosecutor to her bench for a brief chat. She leaned in forward so that only the three of them could hear their conversation.
Of course, any refugee in the room could hear them with relative ease. Eva also noticed that the lead defense attorney had flashier accessories on his suit. He wore a couple of bejeweled rings, platinum spectacles, and a golden tie clip.
He also had a thin gold chain that clasped his suit shut.
As she observed the man, she was reminded of how some Drogar carried themselves – like they were more important than anyone else around them.
In any case, all three were relatively mature, and from their looks appeared to range between their mid 50s and early 60s. Their hair was gray or graying, and their skin sagged with age and a lifetime of work.
“I’ve received the defense’s last minute request to remove certain charges,” said the judge. “I’ve called you both here because I want to understand the reasoning for and against this request before I make a decision.”
“Thank you, your honor,” said the defense counsel. “When my client was brought in and arrested, he was accompanied by hundreds, if not thousands of charges by supposed victims. The problem is that more than two thirds of them are unvetted and cannot be officially corroborated.”
“Define unvetted,” said the judge.
“No formal complaints or charges were ever submitted by these so-called victims before the arrest. That calls into question their validity. For all we know, the bounty hunters who brought in my client falsified the charges in order to increase their payout or their renown.”
“That’s ludicrous, your honor,” the prosecution interjected. “These are people the defendant has victimized. While it’s true they’re unvetted, they most certainly can be corroborated. We cannot just ignore the suffering they’ve endured.”
The defense attorney turned towards the prosecutor next to him, and half-sneered a response.
“If these people actually were victims,” he said, “then why didn’t they submit a single report prior to the fact, hm? I would think that anyone would have processed charges the same cycle they were victimized, if not shortly after. Like I said, for all we know these charges were faked. Or maybe they were produced through coercion.”
“Are you now accusing licensed bounty hunters of coercing people to press charges? What kind of madness are you on about? And besides that, I already said – these charges can easily be corroborated.”
“Easily, perhaps yes. Officially, I don’t think so. Unless you would rather delay the trial again? You know, so you can do some extra paperwork?”
The prosecutor curled his hand into a fist, and his annoyance at the defense attorney became clear as day on his face. If he let the case go into limbo now, there was no telling how long it would take to get back into a courtroom.
If ever.
“We’ve got all the evidence we need to make those corroborations,” he said. “We can easily place these victims at the scenes of these crimes. Registered employees, ticketed passengers, on-duty crewmembers. All of these people were present during your clients’ attack, and deserve to have their charges seen through.”
“Then perhaps they should’ve made their charges before the time of arrest,” replied the defense attorney. “Not after.”
His voice was cold, flat, and exuded unending derision.
“I agree with the defense,” said the judge. “Although I feel for these people, and I believe they were at the time and place of these attacks, they should have submitted charges earlier. It would have been easier to vet their validity.”
The prosecutor gasped in shock. He couldn’t believe that the judge was willing to throw out all those charges. It was a huge blow to his case, and the trial hadn’t even started.
“Your honor,” he pleaded, “just because they weren’t fully aware of procedures doesn’t mean they don’t deserve justice! If these people were killed instead-”
The judge raised his hand and stopped the prosecutor from continuing further.
“Enough, counsel,” he said. “They’ll see justice done today, I promise. They may rest easy, even without their charges on the pyre. The matter is settled, and you both may return to your benches.”
The prosecutor darkened deeply as he returned to his seat. All he could do now was hope that whatever evidence and charges were left over would be enough to sway the jury. He looked over at the Seven, half of whom had also turned grim. Clearly, they had heard the judge as well and weren’t happy with the ruling.
At the other table, the defense attorney whispered in Nightmare’s ear, who was already grinning widely at the outcome.
The rest of the public clearly saw how the two attorneys looked when they returned to their seats, and a murmur spread out among them. Whispers and questions filled their minds, but didn’t get a chance to get too far.
The judge rapped his gavel a couple of times and called for order. Once everything settled down to a calm quiet, he cleared his throat.
“Now that everything’s in good order,” he said, “we can now commence the case of Guy Johnson versus the People of the Sol Federation. Are both sides ready to make their cases?”
Both the lead prosecutor and lead defense counsel audibly gave their affirmative.
“Bailiff,” said the judge, “swear in the jury.”
In his pressed earthy green uniform, the bailiff stood in front of the jury box and looked at them with a stern gaze.
“Please swear upon the articles of the Sol Federation,” he said, “that each of you will fairly observe all truths presented to this court, and that you will render a just and true verdict congruous with the evidence as presented. You may say the words ‘I do’.”
Every member of the jury followed his instructions and spoke in near unison. To which the bailiff nodded at the judge, then returned to his post.
“The prosecution may now deliver their opening statement,” said the judge.
“Thank you, your honor,” said the lead prosecutor.
He stood up and went to the middle of the room, where he looked around at everyone as he spoke. His voice was even and gentle, but also firm.
“We are all gathered here this cycle,” he began, “to determine the guilt of this man, Guy Johnson, whose callsign is Nightmare. You’ll soon discover just how appropriate it is. And although he is considered a refugee, a group of people whose talents and abilities are highly prized across the galaxy, the same cannot be said of this man himself.”
The prosecutor looked into the eyes of each of the jurors as he spoke, and made sure to connect with each and every one of them.
“Today, we will reveal how Mister Johnson and his associates – all of whom have already been charged and prosecuted for their crimes – willingly and knowingly caused great harm to Federation citizens, properties, municipalities, organizations, and corporations.
“I, as the lead prosecutor representing the people of the Sol Federation, will show not only his grievous crimes and how he performed them, but also detail all of the damage he has caused. My team will show why you must find the defendant guilty for all of the crimes he is charged with. This is the only way that justice for the Federation can be served. Thank you.”
He bowed to the jury, then to the judge, then walked towards his table. And once he settled himself back into his seat, the judge spoke again.
“The defense may now give their opening statement,” he said.
“Thank you, your honor,” said the lead defense attorney.
He stood up, and like the lead prosecutor, headed towards the middle of the room. However, he took a few steps closer to the jury, and began his statement speaking directly to them.
“The prosecution would have you believe that my client is a coldblooded murderer,” he began. “That’s he’s nothing more than a vicious savage incapable of decency and responsibility. Now, I won’t say the boy doesn’t have his flaws. He most certainly has made some very objectionable choices, and will be punished for them.”
He turned towards Nightmare, and wagged his finger at him, as though to admonish him for some small slight. But he turned back to the jury quickly.
“I’m here to tell you that my client isn’t quite the monster he’s made out to be,” he continued. “I’ll show you that he’s merely a young boy – only 23 in Gaea-Clock years. That’s little over 7 Galactic-Standard years to everyone else. In those short 7 years, the terrible circumstances of his life led him down dark paths.
“What I’ll show is a young boy, hungry for attention, acceptance, and camaraderie, who fell into the wrong group and made many wrong choices. Most of which he simply couldn’t avoid making, because they were the only choices he knew to make.”
The defense lawyer sighed deeply, as though he was conflicted morally. Then he walked closer to the judge, and spoke mostly to him. Though he made sure he was still clearly heard by the jury.
“And like I said,” he continued, “my client will be punished for his crimes. But not all of them are his. In fact, I’ll show that out of every single one of his associates, only my client showed the greatest amount of restraint. And that’s all the proof we need to understand his capacity for redemption.
“I believe that my client holds as much promise as any other star-born refugee. I believe that he’s not only regretful of his actions, but is willing to do all it would take to repair the damage he’s caused. I believe that he, like many other promising young men like him, deserves to remain free so that his potential remains undamped.”
The courtroom was abuzz with activity as everyone settled into their seats. At the far end of the room atop the judge’s bench sat a pale elderly man in long flowing robes. He looked wise and stern and a little bit long in the tooth.
Behind him was the seal of the Federal Judiciary – a scale with a sword and shield in each of its weight pans. Both were perfectly balanced with each other.
As the judge adjusted his notes and activated his terminal, so too did the court clerk just beneath and in front of his bench. The clerk began tapping away on her terminal even before proceedings officially began.
On one side of the room, to the left of the judge and facing inwards was the jury box, where 12 Helios citizens settled themselves into their seats. They seemed a relatively eclectic group, and consisted of a variety of ages, genders, wealth, and influence. Oddly enough, the one thing that didn’t have much variety was their skin tone – all were light-skinned.
Across the room, and facing the jury were two tables, one for the defense team, and the other for the prosecution.
The table closest to the judge and his clerk was where the defense team sat. There, Nightmare sat next to the lead defense counsel at the table. Their supporting attorneys sat in chairs nearby. All were immaculately dressed in clothing that was clearly expensive
The second table, which sat closer to the public benches, only had two attorneys present. Both wore simple and plain suits, certainly nothing as outlandish or extravagant as the defense team’s outfits.
The zoned-off public benches were filled to the brim with all sorts of people. At least half were Nightmare’s victims. There were corporate observers mixed in as well, whose jobs was simply to observe the trial itself. And unlike the jury box, there truly was an eclectic mix of people here. Skin tones included.
Up front, right next to the prosecutor’s table was the Seven. They too were fixated on the court’s proceedings, and absolutely needed to be there. Not just for themselves, but for all those that Nightmare had victimized as well. It was their way of finally seeing closure on the whole matter.
.....
In all, they were in good spirits, and were looking forward to Nightmare’s sentencing.
The judge quickly called both the lead defense attorney and the lead prosecutor to her bench for a brief chat. She leaned in forward so that only the three of them could hear their conversation.
Of course, any refugee in the room could hear them with relative ease. Eva also noticed that the lead defense attorney had flashier accessories on his suit. He wore a couple of bejeweled rings, platinum spectacles, and a golden tie clip.
He also had a thin gold chain that clasped his suit shut.
As she observed the man, she was reminded of how some Drogar carried themselves – like they were more important than anyone else around them.
In any case, all three were relatively mature, and from their looks appeared to range between their mid 50s and early 60s. Their hair was gray or graying, and their skin sagged with age and a lifetime of work.
“I’ve received the defense’s last minute request to remove certain charges,” said the judge. “I’ve called you both here because I want to understand the reasoning for and against this request before I make a decision.”
“Thank you, your honor,” said the defense counsel. “When my client was brought in and arrested, he was accompanied by hundreds, if not thousands of charges by supposed victims. The problem is that more than two thirds of them are unvetted and cannot be officially corroborated.”
“Define unvetted,” said the judge.
“No formal complaints or charges were ever submitted by these so-called victims before the arrest. That calls into question their validity. For all we know, the bounty hunters who brought in my client falsified the charges in order to increase their payout or their renown.”
“That’s ludicrous, your honor,” the prosecution interjected. “These are people the defendant has victimized. While it’s true they’re unvetted, they most certainly can be corroborated. We cannot just ignore the suffering they’ve endured.”
The defense attorney turned towards the prosecutor next to him, and half-sneered a response.
“If these people actually were victims,” he said, “then why didn’t they submit a single report prior to the fact, hm? I would think that anyone would have processed charges the same cycle they were victimized, if not shortly after. Like I said, for all we know these charges were faked. Or maybe they were produced through coercion.”
“Are you now accusing licensed bounty hunters of coercing people to press charges? What kind of madness are you on about? And besides that, I already said – these charges can easily be corroborated.”
“Easily, perhaps yes. Officially, I don’t think so. Unless you would rather delay the trial again? You know, so you can do some extra paperwork?”
The prosecutor curled his hand into a fist, and his annoyance at the defense attorney became clear as day on his face. If he let the case go into limbo now, there was no telling how long it would take to get back into a courtroom.
If ever.
“We’ve got all the evidence we need to make those corroborations,” he said. “We can easily place these victims at the scenes of these crimes. Registered employees, ticketed passengers, on-duty crewmembers. All of these people were present during your clients’ attack, and deserve to have their charges seen through.”
“Then perhaps they should’ve made their charges before the time of arrest,” replied the defense attorney. “Not after.”
His voice was cold, flat, and exuded unending derision.
“I agree with the defense,” said the judge. “Although I feel for these people, and I believe they were at the time and place of these attacks, they should have submitted charges earlier. It would have been easier to vet their validity.”
The prosecutor gasped in shock. He couldn’t believe that the judge was willing to throw out all those charges. It was a huge blow to his case, and the trial hadn’t even started.
“Your honor,” he pleaded, “just because they weren’t fully aware of procedures doesn’t mean they don’t deserve justice! If these people were killed instead-”
The judge raised his hand and stopped the prosecutor from continuing further.
“Enough, counsel,” he said. “They’ll see justice done today, I promise. They may rest easy, even without their charges on the pyre. The matter is settled, and you both may return to your benches.”
The prosecutor darkened deeply as he returned to his seat. All he could do now was hope that whatever evidence and charges were left over would be enough to sway the jury. He looked over at the Seven, half of whom had also turned grim. Clearly, they had heard the judge as well and weren’t happy with the ruling.
At the other table, the defense attorney whispered in Nightmare’s ear, who was already grinning widely at the outcome.
The rest of the public clearly saw how the two attorneys looked when they returned to their seats, and a murmur spread out among them. Whispers and questions filled their minds, but didn’t get a chance to get too far.
The judge rapped his gavel a couple of times and called for order. Once everything settled down to a calm quiet, he cleared his throat.
“Now that everything’s in good order,” he said, “we can now commence the case of Guy Johnson versus the People of the Sol Federation. Are both sides ready to make their cases?”
Both the lead prosecutor and lead defense counsel audibly gave their affirmative.
“Bailiff,” said the judge, “swear in the jury.”
In his pressed earthy green uniform, the bailiff stood in front of the jury box and looked at them with a stern gaze.
“Please swear upon the articles of the Sol Federation,” he said, “that each of you will fairly observe all truths presented to this court, and that you will render a just and true verdict congruous with the evidence as presented. You may say the words ‘I do’.”
Every member of the jury followed his instructions and spoke in near unison. To which the bailiff nodded at the judge, then returned to his post.
“The prosecution may now deliver their opening statement,” said the judge.
“Thank you, your honor,” said the lead prosecutor.
He stood up and went to the middle of the room, where he looked around at everyone as he spoke. His voice was even and gentle, but also firm.
“We are all gathered here this cycle,” he began, “to determine the guilt of this man, Guy Johnson, whose callsign is Nightmare. You’ll soon discover just how appropriate it is. And although he is considered a refugee, a group of people whose talents and abilities are highly prized across the galaxy, the same cannot be said of this man himself.”
The prosecutor looked into the eyes of each of the jurors as he spoke, and made sure to connect with each and every one of them.
“Today, we will reveal how Mister Johnson and his associates – all of whom have already been charged and prosecuted for their crimes – willingly and knowingly caused great harm to Federation citizens, properties, municipalities, organizations, and corporations.
“I, as the lead prosecutor representing the people of the Sol Federation, will show not only his grievous crimes and how he performed them, but also detail all of the damage he has caused. My team will show why you must find the defendant guilty for all of the crimes he is charged with. This is the only way that justice for the Federation can be served. Thank you.”
He bowed to the jury, then to the judge, then walked towards his table. And once he settled himself back into his seat, the judge spoke again.
“The defense may now give their opening statement,” he said.
“Thank you, your honor,” said the lead defense attorney.
He stood up, and like the lead prosecutor, headed towards the middle of the room. However, he took a few steps closer to the jury, and began his statement speaking directly to them.
“The prosecution would have you believe that my client is a coldblooded murderer,” he began. “That’s he’s nothing more than a vicious savage incapable of decency and responsibility. Now, I won’t say the boy doesn’t have his flaws. He most certainly has made some very objectionable choices, and will be punished for them.”
He turned towards Nightmare, and wagged his finger at him, as though to admonish him for some small slight. But he turned back to the jury quickly.
“I’m here to tell you that my client isn’t quite the monster he’s made out to be,” he continued. “I’ll show you that he’s merely a young boy – only 23 in Gaea-Clock years. That’s little over 7 Galactic-Standard years to everyone else. In those short 7 years, the terrible circumstances of his life led him down dark paths.
“What I’ll show is a young boy, hungry for attention, acceptance, and camaraderie, who fell into the wrong group and made many wrong choices. Most of which he simply couldn’t avoid making, because they were the only choices he knew to make.”
The defense lawyer sighed deeply, as though he was conflicted morally. Then he walked closer to the judge, and spoke mostly to him. Though he made sure he was still clearly heard by the jury.
“And like I said,” he continued, “my client will be punished for his crimes. But not all of them are his. In fact, I’ll show that out of every single one of his associates, only my client showed the greatest amount of restraint. And that’s all the proof we need to understand his capacity for redemption.
“I believe that my client holds as much promise as any other star-born refugee. I believe that he’s not only regretful of his actions, but is willing to do all it would take to repair the damage he’s caused. I believe that he, like many other promising young men like him, deserves to remain free so that his potential remains undamped.”
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