Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [35]
I drift during the prosecution’s closing arguments. According to Latimer, I’m the worst butcher who ever jumped; small children ought to run in fear of my shadow. It’s odd to hear myself painted this way. I used to be the party girl everyone loved to hate, and now my reputation’s even worse. I don’t kid myself—even if I walk out of here, I won’t be free. This will follow me.
Then it’s my barrister’s turn to try to make the jury look somewhat less judgmental. The older woman on the end looks like she’d happily space me herself.
Ms. Hale turns to the judge. “Your Honor, in closing, I wish to call on precedent. In the case of Conglomerate v. Kernak, it has been found that an agent of the government, acting on behalf of said government, can be judged an autonomous authority in certain extreme situations. As with Jacob Kernak, I present that Sirantha Jax found herself in a circumstance where there was no alternative and as an agent for her government, she took action to minimize the loss of life.”
“Objection. Ms. Jax—”
The judge interrupts, “I will allow mention of the precedent in the trial records. But make a convincing connection, Ms. Hale, or the reference will be stricken.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
She turns to the jury; the remote drone-cam zooms over to capture her every expression. So strange to think people are watching this all over the galaxy—laughing, jeering, and taking bets on my chances. I hear there’s a fairly sizable pool among the well-to-do . . . Of course, they’re wagering on whether I get executed.
“How many of you are familiar with Conglomerate v. Kernak?”
Not a single hand goes up among the jury. That’s just as well because my barrister wants to sway public opinion, as well as the panel of my peers, so she’ll play to the drone- cams as well. She nods, putting on her teaching face.
“Jacob Kernak was an operative, just after the Axis Wars. The galaxy was chaotic, and it was before Farwan stepped into the breach left by the Conglomerate, who had authority, at least in theory. Enforcing the laws was often difficult. Captain Kernak had a choice between blowing up a ship that was being hijacked and permitting those hijackers to go free and perhaps kill thousands of more civilians. He only had a short time to make his decision, and no superior officers in the field with him. No time to ask via bounce.”
She offers a half smile. “Sound familiar? It should. My client found herself in the same situation during the destruction of Venice Minor. Kernak sacrificed the passengers of that ship to make sure those hijackers never hurt anyone else. Was it a tough decision? Absolutely. And I’m sure it haunted him, long after his trial, at which he was acquitted of wrongdoing. But ultimately, his choice saved lives, and it stemmed the tide of pirate activity in any sector patrolled by Kernak thereafter. Sometimes, difficult decisions are necessary, and you must be grateful to Captain Kernak—and First Lieutenant Sirantha Jax—for taking on that burden.”
Opposing counsel looks as though he would love to object, but he can’t think of any grounds since there is, definitely, a correlation between the cases. Ms. Hale did her homework. I owe whoever hired her for me a drink and a big thank-you.
“She mourns the loss of her fellow soldiers, but the reality is, soldiers die in wartime. Though we all grieve their loss, do you think such heroes would begrudge their lives so that billions might live? No, and I think they would be shocked and saddened to see a fellow officer persecuted. If Ms. Jax had not acted when—and precisely as—she did—we would now be overrun with ten thousand Morgut vessels, and each carried five hundred hungry monsters. Can you even comprehend those numbers against our fledgling Armada?”
The jury shifts uneasily, their imaginations filling in the rest. The eating swarms and the bloody, endless death, the bombardment from above if our ground troops offered resistance—it would’ve all come to pass. I saved New Terra and countless other worlds at the cost of six hundred lives. Three ships lost.