• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Pagorski barely glanced at the chip. “Where did you get that?”

“That will become evident in good time, my dear,” Bwua’tu replied. “Until then, you must try to remember that I am the one asking questions here. Now, do you know what that is or not, Lieutenant?”

“Of course I do. It’s an Imperial Navy high-capacity datachip,” she said. “We use them by the thousands in ComInt.”

“I’m sure you do.” Bwua’tu turned to face the jury. “Can you tell me, Lieutenant, do military datachips like those have any special properties?”

“They do.” Pagorski’s tone had turned wary, but she clearly realized that refusing to answer the question would only give Bwua’tu an opportunity to make her look foolish. “When tampered with, they self-destruct. They’re shielded to withstand damage from heat, cold, water, and electromagnetic pulse. And they can be accessed only with a top-secret passcode.”

“A passcode?” Bwua’tu did a credible job of sounding surprised. “And who would know this passcode?”

“Only users of each particular datachip,” Pagorski replied. “And their direct superiors, of course.”

“I see. And would you happen to know the passcode to this one, Lieutenant?”

“No.”

“How do you know?” Bwua’tu asked. He turned the datachip over, displaying the label etched into the back of the casing. “You haven’t even looked at its identification code.”

“Very well.” Pagorski leaned forward to inspect the datachip, and her eyes went wide. “It’s a FinSec surveillance chip!”

Bwua’tu’s smile grew predatory. “Thank you, my dear. I was hoping you would be able to identify that for us.” He retrieved the datachip and stepped toward Judge Zudan’s bench. “For the record, Your Honor, this FinSec datachip was one of many sent to defense counsel in response to a request for all surveillance records relating to Tahiri Veila’s presence aboard the Bloodfin during the Battle of Fondor.”

Before Sul Dekkon could object, Sardon produced a thin sheaf of flimsiplast from a document folder next to her chair and rose. “If I may, Your Honor, these are affidavits from Kthira’shi’ktarloo, personal assistant to Head of State Fel of the Galactic Empire, and a series of Imperial officers. All relate to the nature of this datachip.”

She quickly handed one set of affidavits to Sul Dekkon, and another to the bailiff, who passed it up to Judge Zudan.

“They attest to the chain of possession of said datachip,” Sardon continued, “and provide assurances that the content has not been altered in any way.”

“I take it you wish to enter this datachip into evidence?” Zudan asked.

Sardon nodded. “We do.”

Zudan’s gaze shifted to the prosecution table. “Does prosecution have any objection?”

“One moment, Your Honor,” Dekkon replied. “We’d like to examine the affidavits.”

Zudan nodded, and Dekkon and his assistant huddled over the affidavits, whispering and pointing. If Sardon’s plan was going to fail, it would be now, Tahiri knew. There were a whole host of technicalities that could be used to challenge the admission of the datachip, and although Sardon had prepared counterarguments for every one, she still put their chances of getting the datachip admitted at roughly 50 percent. Bwua’tu, on the other hand, felt certain it would be admitted, provided their documentation was in order—which was why he had insisted on preparing it personally. After a few minutes, Dekkon nodded to his associates, then rose.

“Your Honor, we do have one question.”

“Yes?” Zudan replied.

Dekkon turned to Sardon. “How did you ever get the Empire to release this material?” he asked. “We’ve been requesting it for months!”

Sardon narrowed her eyes, obviously searching for the trap.

Bwua’tu merely smiled. “We called Head of State Fel’s office, of course,” he said. “I’m guessing you tried diplomatic channels?”

Dekkon’s face darkened with irritation. “That would be correct.” He turned back to the judge. “Everything seems to be in order, Your Honor. But I do reserve the right to have an expert examine the datachip to establish its authenticity.