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Grass Eaters 2 | 39 | History
🕑 Added 2024-08-14 16:47:01 +0000 UTCHuygens District Court, Titan
POV: Court Transcript, Huygens District Court
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Camille Couture.”
A whoosh of air heralded the middle-aged judge’s entrance, her robes flowing behind her.
Reaching her bench, she fixed her eyes on the two attorneys in the room, and her voice resonated through the room. “Please be seated. We are here to discuss the matter of Terran Republic v. Doe et al. Case number 84-CR-117442. Mr. Lee, you may proceed.”
The middle-aged government man in the dark suit cleared his throat. “Thank you, Your Honor. We have extensive evidence that co-defendant Jane Doe holds a leadership position in the Saturnian Resistance Navy, a terrorist network currently planning imminent attacks on citizens of the Republic. Traditional investigation methods have not yielded the necessary information. The Republic requests a warrant to utilize a non-invasive neurological interrogation technique on Ms. Doe to discover additional threats. The interrogation will be limited to specific, relevant memories and information directly pertaining to the illegal activity already charged in this case.”
The judge looked across the aisle at his counterpart. The defense attorney's eyes flashed with indignation. “Your Honor, this request raises serious concerns about privacy and the potential for abuse. Such a technique is intrusive and directly violates my client’s Basic Terran Right against self-incrimination. Brain-scanning has not been authorized in police interrogation in the Republic in over twenty years; the justification for its last use was based partially in legal doctrine that has since been ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Court of the Republic. Furthermore, the prosecution has not provided evidence to the Court that Ms. Doe even possesses memories that will help their investigation.”
The judge thought for a moment, nodded, and turned back to the prosecutor. “Mr. Lee, what evidence does the State have that Ms. Doe has access to the information you need?”
“Statements from the defendant herself, Your Honor. Here is a recording of a propaganda speech Ms. Doe made prior to a previous attack, evidence of her access to foreknowledge of operations in the organization,” he said, uploading the transcript of the speech to the exhibits. He continued, “Here is a radio intercept of two low level SRN operatives discussing an imminent, future strike on an unspecified target, showing one of many specific attacks she may have additional information on. This establishes sufficient probable cause, justifying the petition for the issuance of a warrant.”
Taking a minute to read the transcripts, Judge Couture turned back to him with a grave expression. “Mr. Lee… I must say I am surprised by this request. Even granting the authenticity of your evidence and the public safety exception in your request, brain scan interrogation remains a prima facie violation of the defendant’s right against self-incrimination.”
Lee gestured towards the defendant’s table. “Your Honor, we are willing to waive our ability to prosecute Ms. Doe based on information directly obtained via this interrogation. Our prosecution team will enact an ethics wall from the contents and results of the interrogation. The defendant cannot claim a right against self-incrimination if we confer upon her transactional immunity under the Fisher doctrine.”
Judge Couture sat back, seeming surprised as she read the details of the partial immunity affidavit. “That is… an extraordinary step. Hm… in that case…” She looked at the defendant’s table. “I am inclined to grant this request with privacy safeguards. Ms. Miller?”
“This is highly irregular, Your Honor,” the visibly frustrated Miller protested. “Surely this Court does not wish to set a precedent that will allow law enforcement to conduct such a procedure any time they can’t figure out a case by themselves!”
“Your objection is noted, Ms. Miller. Mr. Lee, the State’s request for a warrant for neurological interrogation is granted, contingent upon your privacy and self-recrimination shield. I note in my decision that this represents an exceptional determination due to the extreme threat that the co-defendant poses to public order, and it is not intended to establish a general precedent for future cases. Anything else?”
Lee coughed lightly, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Your Honor, given the ongoing nature of this investigation, the State also requests that the Court impose a gag order on opposing attorney to prevent her from disclosing any information about this warrant, our custody of Ms. Doe, or the impending search to the co-defendants or any third parties to ensure the integrity of the investigation and to prevent any potential tampering with evidence or flight risk by her co-defendants.”
Miller’s eyes blazed, and she stared straight at him with venom, “Your Honor, this is an overreach! A gag order would impede my ability to effectively represent my client and collaborate with co-counsel! It infringes on my client’s right to a fair defense.”
Judge Couture’s fingers drummed on her bench for a moment as she contemplated the request, then shook her head. “Ms. Miller, whether the State is successful in its current investigation, you will have plenty of time to prepare a defense for your clients, and if you wish to represent them more effectively, I suggest you urge them to surrender themselves to local authorities as soon as possible. Given the potential risk of information leak jeopardizing the State’s investigation, I find the request for a gag order reasonable.”
“Your Honor, I must express my objection for the record!”
The judge tapped her gavel on the bench lightly. “Your objection is duly noted, Ms. Miller. That concludes today’s proceedings. Court adjourned.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Black Site Deimos, Deimos
POV: Amelia Waters, Terran Republic Navy (Rank: Admiral)
Amelia sat down opposite her prisoner strapped into the interrogation chair, next to her lawyer. There was a circular device encapsulating the Ace’s head. Powerful new technology developed from the TRO’s ample black budget, not too different in principle from the century-old MRIs. Not physically intrusive enough to forcefully pull information from her head like an actual implant or a battlefield brainjack with its nano-needles…
Just intrusive enough to be legal in special circumstances. Like this one.
Amelia slowly browsed to her notes on her tablet, sipping on a cup of water as she did. She offered it to the lawyer. “Water?”
“No, thanks,” the attorney shook her head. “How long will this take, Rep?”
“As long as it takes to get the information we need,” Amelia replied. “Shouldn’t take too long.”
“We object to this illegal and dangerous method of interrogation,” Miller started. “It violates every single one of my client’s Basic Terran Right. We are filing a stay on the order in the Supreme Court—”
Amelia waved her complaint away dismissively, “You’re only here to observe the conduct of our procedures, Ms. Miller. After all, we comply with laws and procedures here. But you will not disrupt our work. And as we’re about to begin, my people will escort you to the peanut gallery.”
With a huff, the lawyer allowed herself to be led out of the room to the darkened observation chamber.
Amelia looked back at the prisoner opposite her, tapping her tablet to establish a neural link with the device. “So… Ambre Martin… or Maben… or as I know you prefer, the Ace of Hearts. We’re going to ask you some questions under a neurological interrogation device, and you can say nothing — that is your right. But you’re going to tell us what you know about the Resistance. What you’re doing next, where your people are hiding…”
The Ace stared daggers at her.
Amelia continued unperturbed, “Let’s start with the Resistance Aces we’re looking for. The Ace of Diamonds. Where do we find her?”
Nothing.
She said nothing, and the weak device drew a blank from her mind.
“Nothing? Ah, I see your people have trained you for a little bit of this. Not too surprising. Alright, how about we start with this one? This Resistance operative,” Amelia said, changing tracks and bringing up a dated picture on her tablet. “You remember him?”
The prisoner took one look at the picture and looked away. Still nothing.
Amelia swiped on her tablet. “No? What about this one?”
That got a strong reaction. Some memories involuntarily surfaced to the top of her mind on the machine. Not enough to get any real images, but it was something.
“My dead sons,” Ambre spat angrily on the table. “What games are you playing now, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Two brothers. Died for the ‘heroic cause’ of the Resistance,” Amelia said, shaking her head sadly. “So young. Twenty and… eighteen. Noah, explosive decompression in a Marine raid… and Thomas, shot and killed carrying out a terrorist attack at Galileo One.”
“Fuck you!”
Amelia continued without changing her tone, “So goes the official story anyway. Can’t believe what those dirty Reps say, right?”
“Fuck. You.”
Now her brain was dredging up all sorts of memories. A mix of rage, depression, and the dark times she went through when she heard the news. When both her sons were martyred by the Reps… within days of each other.
In her surfacing memories, Amelia glimpsed the window of some civilian station. The specialists can look into that later.
Amelia swiped again on her tablet and looked back down at the prisoner. She took a sip of water. “What if I told you Thomas was still alive?”
“Lies of the Republic!”
Amelia turned her tablet over so the prisoner could see the screen. It began playing footage from a helmet camera from a standard police robot…
The Ace of Hearts knew that she shouldn’t watch, but Thomas’s mother couldn’t stop herself.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Galileo-1, Saturn (0.5 Ls)
25 years ago
POV: Thomas Martin, Terran (Civilian)
Thomas’ heart stopped when he saw the message on his tablet.
Noah.
Big brother.
Killed in a Republic raid.
“He went out like a hero,” his mother said hoarsely in her recorded message that he began to play, her tears flowing freely and her rage raw. “My son. My son! Shot in cold blood. Defending his home. Defending his people. Our people. Those jackboots shot him. Those Martian animals!”
Thomas was angry.
The Ace of Heart’s message was directed at the Resistance, urging them into action.
Take revenge. For your martyr.
But Thomas saw his mom’s video as a personal message for him.
Take revenge. For your brother.
He rummaged through his trunk of contraband under his bed. Within moments, he found what he was looking for: one of those covert handguns one of his Resistance buddies had printed in an unauthorized fabrication shop and given to him as a gift. He picked up the two magazines next to it, loading one of them after a few moments of fiddling and stuffing the other in his utility pocket.
Sliding the gun into his loose work coverall, he walked out of his station residence.
He’d rehearsed this in his head a thousand times. And in the sim programs too. He knew this whole place like the back of his hand. He made his way around the station, avoiding most of the cameras and body scanners.
There it was: the docking module.
There were several workers gathered around, supervising as an industrial robot loaded supplies into a container, bound for one of the Navy ships docked at the station. If he got by them, he could get onto the ship—
“Hey, dude,” one of the workers called out upon seeing him. “You can’t be in here. This is a restricted loading area—”
On instinct developed in a semi-realistic sim, Thomas reached into his coverall, grabbed his gun by the grip, brought it out in the general direction of the speaker, and depressed the trigger.
Bang.
A loud discharge rang through the module, and the shot found its mark. The target’s body crumpled to the ground, a puddle of blood pooling where part of his head used to be.
His first kill. Thomas looked down at the result in momentary shock and horror.
As did the other workers.
One of them recovered faster than him. She screamed. That broke the reverie, and all of them dropped what they were doing and went running for cover.
In his daze, he let them go. Instead, he took aim at their industrial loading robot.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
It collapsed to the ground in a heap of useless metal. One less cog for the Republic’s fascist war machine.
He approached the docking entrance to the Navy ship. It was guarded. Two of the Navy’s jackboots. One of the guards ran towards him with a mere baton.
Bang. Bang.
The guard fell backwards, his baton clattering to the ground. The other guard raised his hands, showing that he was unarmed and looking at Thomas with fear and pleading in his eyes.
Bang.
Die, Rep.
He walked over the two bodies towards the ship airlock. He pressed the button to open the door.
It didn’t respond.
Damn. Maybe I should have thought this through better.
He went back to one of the guards’ bodies and felt for his pocket. It was still warm. He emptied the pocket onto the station floor: credit card, room key card, ah… Navy ID. Refusing to even read the information on it, he went back to the airlock and held the ID up to the scanner next to it.
The door still declined to open.
Frustrated, Thomas grabbed the handle and pulled as hard as he can. He tugged on the heavy metal handle for another few seconds with all his strength. It wouldn’t budge.
Crap. What next?
That’s when he heard the rhythm of metal footsteps, rapidly marching methodically towards his position. He whirled around instinctively.
That was faster than he expected.
Police bots, a trio of them, with their siren lights flashing red and blue. They moved quickly into the docking module with robotic precision, fanning out and aiming their weapons at him. “Drop your weapon!” one of them said through its loudspeaker. “Drop your weapon now!”
Bang.
Thomas shot the robot where he knew its control chip was. The Resistance had brochures and videos teaching its operatives exactly where to hit to destroy one of these machines. The 5.7 mm round shredded its internals, and its parts clattered to the ground.
He took aim at another, and he noticed that its lights had stopped flashing and turned green—
Bzzzzzzzzttttttt.
Pain. He felt his muscles spasm, all of them. His fingers contracted, firing off a wild shot into the station hull. He saw stars as he fell to the ground.
“You are under arrest, citizen. You have the right to…”
As he began to lose consciousness, he could hear the damn robot reading him his Basic Terran Rights through the loudspeaker.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
He came to, slumped over at a table. As he opened his eyes to his blurry vision and sat back up, Thomas could see that he was handcuffed to the table. It was some kind of interrogation room.
“Awake now?”
Thomas looked up at the voice. As he focused his eyes, he saw it was a middle-aged woman, an officer in a jet-black Navy uniform. He couldn’t recognize her rank insignia, which carried a single ringed planet in gold. Her nametag read “Waters”.
She tossed a silver metal plate onto the table in front of him.
“Becker, Albert. Petty Officer. Thirty. He has— had a wife back on Terra.”
She chucked out another dogtag.
“Bauernschmidt, Leo. Chief Petty Officer. Thirty-four. Wife and a ten-year-old daughter. And the third, the civilian, Titan native with a mother still waiting for him to come home.”
Thomas looked at the names on the table with his hate-filled eyes. “Were those your men?”
She nodded.
“Good,” he said with venom in his voice, leaning back in his chair. “Now you inner planet jackboots know how we feel when you come to our—”
“I’m from Ganymede,” she said automatically.
“Even worse, Rep collaborator!” he spat at her.
“You’re just a child. Why? Why would you do this?” she asked, almost sadly. “What would even—”
“To free our people from the injustice and oppression of your Republic!” he recited.
She looked at him, wordless for a moment, as if in disbelief.
“Injustice? Oppression?!” she grinded out a few seconds later.
And in a second, Thomas realized she was right: he didn’t throw his life away for some abstract concept of fighting oppression. He didn’t care about the history of the half century interplanetary conflict, the chronicles of bloody outer planet repression, who started it, who shot first? Who cares?!
None of that mattered. He had another cause. A righteous one!
“To avenge my brother!” Thomas shouted. “Noah! Hero of the Resistance! Vive la Résistance!”
She shrugged slightly, as if she didn’t know— or perhaps didn’t care.
“You murdered him!” he said angrily. The monsters didn’t even know what they’d just done. It was just another day at work for them. “Yesterday! Your Marine raids! And you don’t even know—”
The officer turned her head to look at him with much more interest. “Yesterday? Leavitt Station? Your brother? What’s your mother’s name?”
Comments
M
Bauernschmidt... so he killed Carla's father! Daaamn...
AnAbsoluteVillain
Plot twist! He is adopted. 💀
Nicolae
Well someone was young
