Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [94]
Now worried, Tahiri leaned over so she and Bwua’tu could speak and not be overheard. “I don’t understand. You’ve been beating his case black and blue. You proved his star witness was a liar. You’ve been pulling his other witnesses’ testimony apart like you were peeling fruit. And clearly he’s giving up. Why are we in trouble?”
Bwua’tu gave her a look of sympathy. “Understand: Populations, represented in this case by the jury over there, do not generally approve of their heroes being killed. Our defense is predicated, among other things, on the notions that there are circumstances under which anybody would feel obligated to do such a thing, and that any effort to lie or manipulate evidence to convict a defendant must be symptomatic of a desperate need to ensure an unfair conviction—owing to the defendant’s innocence. Yes?”
She nodded.
“Dekkon was indeed losing. And then the fates handed him enough ammunition to get back in the fight. The fact that the Jedi just seized control of the Galactic Alliance.”
“But—wait. First, I’m not a Jedi anymore. And second, the Jedi didn’t do that. They just ousted Daala, and now they’re taking part in a transitional government …”
Bwua’tu shook his head, his expression sad. “Remember that the jury has been sequestered.”
“So they shouldn’t even have heard about the coup.”
“But something like that can’t be kept from even a sequestered jury. Crowds by the millions on the pedways, airspeeders flying by their windows trailing banners, hotel staff members speaking in hushed whispers—‘What’s happening? What’s happening?’ Inevitably the jurors will have heard something. The problem with their being sequestered then becomes the fact that they get only a part of the story. That part is that the Jedi have taken over.”
“Which still has nothing to do with me.”
“Ex-military still have friends in the military. Former workers from an office still have friends in that office. Ex-Jedi still have Jedi friends. And Dekkon shows up in court the morning after the coup, dejected, and rests his case, signaling defeat.”
Understanding finally dawned. “Leading the jury to assume the trial doesn’t matter. That even if the jury convicts, the Jedi are going to get me freed.”
“Correct.”
“But that’s not fair. That’s deceptive—”
“Is it? I have well-placed sources who say that, late yesterday, the Jedi Order made some initial queries to the Department of Justice about dropping your case and negating Master Skywalker’s plea bargain. Dekkon may be responding with genuine dismay to anticipated interference with the process of justice. Or he may be play-acting to accentuate his case. I suspect both are true. Regardless, yesterday his chances of success were perhaps one in ten, and after the Jedi coup, this tactic has made them fifty–fifty. No better than a random throw of the dice … but far better than he had before.”
Tahiri let out a long, slow breath. “What do we do?”
“We can choose one of three paths. Number one, we hope that the Jedi do indeed decide to oblige the government to drop your case. Number two, we proceed with our original defense course, extending this case for a few more weeks, and hope that during this time the Jedi do not lose the sympathy of the people. To achieve this, of course, they collectively would have to be superior politicians with a deeply ingrained understanding of motivating, encouraging, and uplifting large populations, as well as handling transition-era crises with superior diplomacy, which would be enhanced by the enthusiastic cooperation of the rest of the government. Or, number three, we can rely on the same fifty–fifty die roll that Dekkon has just made.”
Tahiri thought that over. Her heart sank farther. “The die roll is our best option, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my dear, I think it is.”
“Go ahead and roll, Eramuth.”
Bwua’tu turned to look at the judge. When she noticed, he gave her a little nod, indicating readiness.
She rapped