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A ridge appeared down the back of Sardon’s robes as her dorsal spines rose in apprehension, but Bwua’tu pressed blithely on.

“All three?” he asked, turning back to the witness stand. “You must have been quite busy, then.”

Pagorski nodded. “For a short time.”

“I see.”

Bwua’tu started back to the defense table. Sardon pushed back in her chair, her face scales bristling in anger now instead of alarm. She wasn’t worried that the old Bothan had made a mistake, Tahiri realized, she was upset with what he was doing. When he reached the table and started to open the box from which he had removed the first datachip, Sardon’s hand shot out to cover his.

“Eramuth!” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

Bwua’tu’s ears were pricked forward in surprise, his snout wrinkled in disapproval. “I assume you know,” he whispered. “I’m about to expose Lieutenant Pagorski as a liar.”

“What about Dekkon?” she demanded, still hissing. “You haven’t asked if he coached her testimony.”

“Because the prosecution has done nothing improper,” Bwua’tu replied. “Sul didn’t know she was lying, or he would have fought harder to prevent us from admitting the datachips.”

“So?”

Sardon stood and leaned closer to Bwua’tu’s ear, giving Tahiri a clear view of both the prosecution table and the jury box. All eyes were on her attorneys, and all eyes looked as disapproving as they did astonished.

“The jury will draw its inferences from the question alone,” she said. “Then, after you spring the trap, it will taint the testimony of all the prosecution witnesses.”

“Or backfire and convince them that we’re pulling a fast one with an altered datachip,” Bwua’tu countered. “People are suspicious of the Jedi right now. It’s better to play it safe and simply impeach the witness. We do not need to smear opposing counsel.”

This caused Sardon to draw back. “Are you afraid of him?”

She asked the question loudly enough to raise brows in the jury box, and Tahiri realized the pair were not doing her any good at the moment.

“Uh, Counselors!” She leaned forward, sheltering her hand from anyone’s view but theirs, and jerked a thumb toward the jury box. “Do you think you’re doing me any good here?”

Bwua’tu’s ears flattened with embarrassment, and Sardon’s face flushed to purple.

“Sorry, my dear,” Bwua’tu said. “But I won’t go after Sul Dekkon simply because he was duped by his own witness. It’s not in your best interest.”

Sardon rolled her eyes. “You’re playing it safe, Eramuth,” she said. “You can’t do that against Dekkon. We need to cripple him while we can—because he has a lot more than just Pagorski on his side. He has the facts.”

“And we have the truth,” Bwua’tu retorted.

Before he could say more, Judge Zudan’s voice sounded from the bench. “Is the defense counsel ready to proceed?”

Dekkon rose. “If counsel needs a short adjournment—”

“No!”

Bwua’tu and Sardon spoke the word together. Tahiri was relieved to discover they were in agreement about that much. Even she realized how much of a mistake it would have been to further break the rhythm of the examination.

“The defense thanks the prosecution for its kind offer.” Bwua’tu nodded to Dekkon, then turned to address the judge. “And we thank the court for its patience. But there’s no need for an adjournment. We’re ready to proceed.”

“By all means, please do,” Zudan ordered.

Bwua’tu nodded, then reached for the box again—only to find Sardon’s hand covering it. Bwua’tu showed the tips of his fangs, Sardon extended the tiny claws on her fingertips, and Tahiri began to feel sick to her stomach.

“Please!” Tahiri whispered. Realizing that the choice was ultimately hers alone—and that Sardon was right about the facts of the case being against her—she decided to go for the crippling attack. “Eramuth, just ask Pagorski whether she was coached, okay?”

Bwua’tu’s jowls sagged. “You’re certain?”

“No,” Tahiri admitted. “But this argument has to end, and looking for surveillance vids was Sardonne’s idea.”

Bwua’tu nodded. “It’s your choice, my dear.”