Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [32]
“How will you prove this?” I whisper to her, as she sits down beside me.
“Let me worry about that.”
The opposing counsel takes the floor. Latimer is tall, slim, and well-groomed; he doesn’t look like he’d stab somebody in the neck, but he sure goes for the jugular in the courtroom. “Sirantha Jax has a history of causing chaos. Her service with Farwan shows she has a long and storied record of conflicts with authority, borderline anarchist behavior, difficulty complying with chain of command, and no ability to act with any concept of future consequences.”
He points at me, and I work not to shrink in my chair. “You wouldn’t know by looking at her, of course, but don’t let my esteemed colleague blind you to the facts. Six hundred men died because of Sirantha Jax, and those deaths were avoidable. They were not casualties of war. These sons and daughters should be home with their families, celebrating our victory over the Morgut, but instead, through Ms. Jax’s dangerous, reckless disregard for other sentient beings, they are forever lost.”
The prosecutor shakes his head in grave sorrow. “But I will not appeal to your emotions.” Bullshit, you just did. “Instead, I will walk you step-by-step through the events leading up to one of the most horrific events in our history, the day six hundred brave soldiers paid the ultimate price for one woman’s hubris.”
His gaze is firm and uncompromising; he gives every impression that he believes what he’s saying, and it hurts to hear. With some effort, I maintain the posture that Ms. Hale recommended. I don’t want to come off as cold or indifferent. So I make no effort to hide my pain. I don’t ever put it all on display like this—but for today and all the rest of the days of the trial, I must. My every flinch, every flicker of pain, will be magnified a hundred times over, then dissected by the pundits and talking heads. But I’m told it’s necessary; the world needs to see me vulnerable and wounded. I cannot appear not to care or to lack remorse, but that removes a crucial component of my self- defense mechanism and leaves me bleeding for all the world to see. I suppose that’s rather the point.
“They will attempt to persuade you that she acted in the Conglomerate’s interests, but I promise that before I conclude my arguments, you will understand that she committed this heinous crime to serve no one’s needs but her own. Sirantha Jax is a vainglorious narcissist. There were other ways that would not have cost so many innocent lives. She simply chose for the sake of her own self-aggrandizement without regard for the welfare of others—and that is typical of her, as you will see in days to come. I will not rest until she pays for what she’s done, and I hope in the interest of justice, you will not betray the bereaved families who depend on your clear thought and rightful ruling. Thank you.”
Nobody stirs as he resumes his seat. Nola Hale touches me reassuringly on the shoulder, no doubt intended to convey to the jury that I am no monster—that the horrible things Latimer just said about me have the power to cut me to the bone. She steps away from the table and strides toward the jury; her gaze touches on each member.
“I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ms. Jax acted in the interests of the Conglomerate, and indeed, had she not undertaken this course, we would all be food for the Morgut. Furthermore, I will also establish that Chancellor Tarn gave her executive authority.”
She leans forward, adopting a confidential posture. “He used her as a tool in a gray-op situation, and when the political blowback became too intense, he disavowed her. What happened to those Conglomerate soldiers was tragic, but if Ms. Jax had not acted, we would, at this moment, be fighting a war on six fronts against an unstoppable dreadnaught army.”
The mention of dreadnaughts sends a ripple of fear through the room; they must’ve seen footage from the battle above Venice Minor. Remembering the losses from that