• Published 13th Dec 2011
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The Stars Beyond The Veil - Charlemane



4131 EC, a year of no importance. After a long shift recovering scrap from a derelict satellite, Horizon Seldat is about to have a very, very bad day.

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09 - Chapter Nine: The Gavel Falls

Chapter Nine

The Gavel Falls

“As the growing epidemic known as Fade ravages populations everywhere, scientists are scrambling for a cure. With one in thirty foals born testing positive for the defect, experts are puzzling over the sudden and unexplained spread of the disease. Meanwhile, the public has taken action. Riots have broken out amidst panic in nearly every colony as more and ponies are discovered with the genetic trait.

- ENN Special News Bulletin: COLONY RIOTS! Fade Sparks Public Outcry - 2616 EC

“Well, this is it.”

A last minute change to our game plan had been made, but as we stood together outside the courtroom with less than five minutes to go and no certainty of victory ahead, I couldn’t help but feel terrified.

“Aw relax, Horizon, everything’s going to be fine.” Fritter said as he pulled me into a side hug. Between his nervous laugh and the fact that he was shaking too, well, I had a bit of trouble believing him.

“We will do everything in our power to secure victory, Horizon. Remember, all we have to do is cast enough doubt on the details of your case to succeed. If we can do that, we can get the ruling overturned, or at the very least, open a new examination,” Chance said.

The key word there was if. Of the hour we had before the trial, we spent half of it traveling, leaving us with only thirty minutes to refocus our attack plan. No one was confident in it, myself least of all.

“Where’s Nightshade?” I asked Fritter.

Fritter frowned. “Who knows? He broke off from us after we got to the station. I haven’t seen him since.”

Donut silently shook his head.

“Who is this, Nightshade, person?” Chance asked, curious.

“Breathing bad news,” I deadpanned. If Nightshade wasn’t around, he was up to something. Something that I’d probably hate him for later if I was a betting buck.

“The less you know ‘bout him the better off you’ll be,” Donut warned. “Eightball, don’t like ponies poking around in his business.” Donut gave Fritter a dirty look. Where’d that come from?

“I... see,” Chance said. He glanced at something in his field of vision. “Any minute now. Oh-”

“Hello, Chance,” A burgundy pegasus in a nice suit walked up to our party, “bought into another sob story I see? I thought you learned your lesson the last time.”

“Hello, Prosecutor,” Chance levelled, his expression turned dour at the sight of her. “Skulking about as usual?”

“Skulking? Chance?” The prosecutor tsked. “I don’t skulk, darling, I sashay.” She smiled with impossibly white teeth. “Regardless, I would have thought by now you’d have learned to address me by name. Hmm? Let me hear you say it.”

“No,” Chance replied.

“Oh come on, I know you’ve got it in you, just say it! Rosetta-”

“No.”

“Primrose.”

“Did you actually need something or are you simply here to annoy me?”

“I’m your opposition,” she said smiling. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

Chance remained stoic, silently judging her.

The prosecutor harrumphed. “You’re no fun. See you inside!”

I caught a glance of her flank as disappeared into the courtroom. She really did sashay! Joe nudged me with a leg and shook his head.

“You two seem like you’ve had some history,” I said, looking at Chance.

Chance glared at me. “She’s the one who beat me in my last case,” he muttered. “At any rate, I don’t want to talk about it. Ready to go in?”

I looked at the wooden door leading to the courtroom. It stood open, tall and imposing, mocking me.

“Honestly, no. But then, who’s ever ready for something like this?” I offered.

Chance gave me a tired laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”

----

“All rise, for the honorable Judge Rhapsody.”

I don’t know why they bothered, everypony was already standing. If anything, the announcement made us stand up straighter as a peach pegasus with a gavel for a cutiemark strode confidently into the room, her robes of office neatly arranged in black folds around her. Why judges still wore those antique things I couldn’t figure, but the effect was clear. Between her authoritative attire and her hardline demeanor, she was scary.

The Judge reached her podium, squared off against the audience and sat down, her head held high and brandishing a look that promised dire consequences for any show of stupidity.

“Be seated.” She ordered. For a brief moment, the noise of ponies taking their seats was deafening. Faux leather creaked, hooves clopped softly on the carpeted sections of the floor and metal chairs scraped across the rest. The court was not one of those classy types, rich with antiquity, but instead was simple. Two sturdy metal tables sat across from each other squared off against the judge’s podium and the witness’ stand. The court reporter, a pegasus with a WAND, sat in the corner busily recording the proceedings on a specialized typewriter. The audience sat behind the two tables, cordoned off by a simple length of rope. The audience was empty, mostly.

Sitting in the audience I spotted Prism. She saw me too, though she pretended not to. Fritter and Donut Joe sat across the aisle a distance away from her closer to where I was sitting at the defense’s table. They smiled encouragingly at me, though their smiles had a certain tautness to them. There were other ponies present whom I didn’t recognize, some interested passersby, and what looked like a group of law students from the local college, the latter of which were watching the proceedings with intense interest and taking notes.

The Judge cleared her throat. “Stalwart, if you will.”

The court reporter stood up, floating a clipboard in front of him as he adjusted his glasses. “Seldat vs. the State, court of appeals, The Honorable Judge Rhapsody presiding. Also in attendance, The Honorable Chief Counselor Leavenworth and The Honorable Counselor Featherdance.”

Sitting near the front of the audience on the prosecution’s side were two weighty pegasi of grayish complexions and official demeanors. Apparently, fighting a statute which you helped install merited a personal appearance. I hoped it wouldn’t affect the outcome of the case, though at that point I had very little hope of winning anyway. Both pegasi wore identically sour expressions.

The reporter continued, “Seldat, Appealing conviction of murder in the first degree, convicted August 10th, 4131. Representing the prosecution, Prosecutor Rosetta Primrose.” The burgundy pegasus at the other table fluffed her light brown mane with a hoof. She wore a nice charcoal suit and had a bow and arrow for a cutiemark. The gem of a WAND twinkled from inside her mane. “Representing the defense, Mr. Last Chance, and his client.”

Client. No name, no mention, I was just the client. Thanks reporter, you’re a bro.

In what little time we had, Last Chance had taken the opportunity to collect himself. He had tidied up nicely. His suit was all in order, his mane had been tamed, and he wore a grin of confidence that would have been reassuring had I not seen him as a nervous wreck barely thirty minutes prior. He looked every bit as professional and confident as when I’d first met him, but the nervous twitch attacking his smile told me otherwise.

If Chance was a picture of confidence, I was a mess. Sitting in that room full of judging eyes, watching the self-assured smirk of the prosecutor as she glanced at me with hungry eyes and sitting before one of the scariest mares I’d ever seen, I felt small. Smaller than I should have. I was physically taller than both the prosecutor and the judge, but somehow they felt bigger. The more I looked at them, the more they seemed to grow, making me more and more nervous. While Chance stood like a rock beside me, I was trembling.

The sound of the gavel rang throughout the court, echoing off the walls and nearly shooting me straight through the ceiling. Chance managed to catch me by the shoulders and push me back into my seat before I made a scene. Across the aisle, the prosecutor chuckled knowingly.

“Court is now in session.” The reporter announced before taking his seat.

The judge leaned forward with an annoyed sigh. “Alright somepony mind telling me what this is all about? I thought this was case was cleared up a week ago.”

“As I understand it, your honor, our good friend Chance here is determined to get his clients killed.”

Chance grunted. “I can assure you that will not be the case this time, Prosecutor,” he replied.

“And I can assure you, that this case is a lost cause. You should learn when to give up, Chance, maybe choose a different, more respectable profession, like prosecution.” Primrose smiled demurely, taking a sip from her coffee cup using her WAND.

“Enough.” The judge barked. “I’m not going to have you two fighting like foals in my court. Reasons. Now.”

“Your Honor,” Chance said, “my client and I are here to appeal the charges against him.”

The judge raised an eyebrow. “You do realize we have procedures for this kind of thing Mr. Chance?”

“Yes your honor, but this is not simply a matter of a reduction in punishment. I am here to appeal the ruling in its entirety.”

Coffee sprayed from across the aisle as the prosecutor spat, “what?”

“I am here to prove that my client is innocent, your honor.” Chance smiled, before looking at Primrose’s shocked expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, prosecutor, did you not get the memo?”

“Clearly,” She leveled.

“Well I must say, Mr. Chance, this is rather... surprising,” the judge commented. “Given your history I would have thought you wouldn’t want to take on another case like this.”

“I will prove that I can do better, your honor.” Chance said. Primrose scoffed.

“You do realize what burden you are placing on yourself?” the judge asked.

“I am very well aware your honor.”

The judge nodded. “Very well. Prosecution, you may begin with your opening statements.”

Primrose had recovered from her shock. “Your honor,” she began, “There is very little for me to say. As was decided by jury the week prior, Mr. Seldat was convicted of murder in the first degree. Mr. Seldat murdered his employer, the late Junkyard Juryrig, after an argument over his wages. Witnesses have confirmed a history of anger between the two and it is believed that the night of the murder was the last straw. Horizon Seldat shot Junkyard Juryrig and fled the colony after being caught attempting to remove evidence from the scene of the crime. Two officers were severely wounded in their attempts to apprehend him.”

More like kill me, I thought bitterly.

The prosecutor continued, “These charges were reviewed by jury and were affirmed to be true and correct. I’m not even sure why we are having this appeal.”

Chance shot her a dirty look. Primrose noticed.

“Is there something you wanted to say Chance?” she challenged. Chance held his silence. Primrose smirked.

The Judge gave the prosecutor an irritated glare before turning to us.

“Defense, your opening statements please.”

“Your honor, I will prove the innocence of my client and absolve him of the crime of murder as convicted on the proceedings of August 10th, 4131. It is my intent to prove that my client had neither the motive, nor the opportunity to kill Junkyard Juryrig. In the process I will prove that the evidence gathered against him is false, and that the ruling of his conviction was in error. I will resolve my client of all charges and seek proper restitution for damages done to his character.”

“That is a very bold statement, defense,” The judge commented.

“If unrealistically optimistic,” Primrose added with a smirk.

“The prosecution will refrain from further remarks.”

“Yes, your honor,” Primrose sighed.

“I do not intend to be bold in my statements, your honor, I am simply stating what I will accomplish.”

“Noted,” the judge replied, “Very well Mr. Chance, please begin.”

Last Chance took a deep breath.

We had debated extensively what we would attack first. Since it was an appeal, Chance told me that we would have the first go. While we had a lot of work to do, we decided that the best course of action would be to first deconstruct my supposed motive for killing Junkyard and then move onto the evidence. We would tackle everything, one thing at a time. We were missing our key piece of evidence, but the hope was that we could cast enough doubt on the ‘how’ of it that it wouldn’t be necessary.

“The defense would like to call into question my client’s motive for killing Junkyard Juryrig. We assert that my client would not have the correct frame of mind to commit the act of murder, and that my client’s situation would not have benefitted by his death,” Chance said.

“Your client has been found to be in frequent arguments with the deceased, some of which have been reported to be so bad that they could be heard from several blocks away. Neighboring businesses have testified to this fact. It has also been attested by other sources that the accused has made frequent disparaging remarks about Junkyard’s person including, and I quote, ‘I wish that fat bastard would die so I could get on with my life.’”

Last Chance shot me a dirty look. My ears drooped as I chuckled nervously.

The prosecution continued, “You can find all of these testimonies in this document, submitted during the trial.”

Chance’s WAND Beeped with new information. Immediately, he started scanning something in front of him that I couldn’t see.

“So your accusations on his motive were based on hearsay, Primrose?”

“Testimony, Chance. Several of these individuals were present for the trial and gave their testimony under oath.”

“Unlike my client who was unable to defend himself as he was not present for his trial.”

I saw the chief counselor’s frown deepen as the fat pegasus shifted in his seat. I returned my attention to the prosecution whose eyebrow had shot up and a small smile had formed on her lips.

“Last I checked, Chance, we were not here to discuss procedure,” Primrose said.

“The procedure is relevant to the case. I am confident that had Horizon been present for his trial the ruling would have been much different.”

“As things stand, Chance, if he’d been here for his trial he’d be dead.”

“That remains to be seen,” Chance said.

“Your honor, this line of argumentation seems to have been led astray by a personal vendetta. I request that the defense be held to the matter at hand.”

“Objection, your honor, the procedure is relevant to the case!”

“Overruled. This case is on the murder trial of a convicted murderer, not a political debate. Defense, you will cease this line of argumentation unless otherwise called for.”

Chance grunted. “Yes, your honor.”

Primrose smiled, “So, Chance, what do you have to say? Are you going to imply that all these ponies, who testified in court, lied?”

Chance smiled back. “They did not lie, prosecutor, they simply did not know the truth. What is true to one person may be false to another.”

“That’s it? Your entire argument is that your client is misunderstood? You disappoint me, Chance.”

“Horizon’s relationship with the deceased was mutually beneficial. He would not have jeopardized that in favor of short term gain.”

“There you are wrong, Chance,” Primrose stated. “There is no possible way that their relationship could have been mutually beneficial. As it would have been financially stupid for Mr. Juryrig to continue hiring your client.”

“Beg your pardon?” Chance replied.

Primrose’s WAND lit up and projected a display in the center of the court. “These financials were recovered from Mr. Juryrig’s offices during the investigation. We had our ponies run the numbers, and for your information, it would have been more profitable for Mr. Juryrig to have hired a third party, than to continue to pay for repairs on the vessel your client was piloting, not including your client’s paycheck. By all business considerations, Mr. Seldat could have easily been fired years ago.”

That made me swallow. I had always thought he wasn’t paying to repair the Bandit. Or was he? No, he couldn’t have. The Bandit had never been in the shop the entire time I had flown it. Earlier I had been told not to speak unless spoken to, and had been provided a pad and a pen if I needed to communicate. I started scribbling a quick note to Chance. He glanced at it before continuing.

“Then it appears we have a mystery on our hooves, prosecutor, as my client informs me the ship was never in for repairs.”

“Which is contradictory hearsay, Chance. We have evidence that the payments were made to the yards for the aforementioned service. Your client’s testimony clearly contradicts established fact.”

“It is not contradictory.” Chance replied, “Take a look at the dates on that document. Mr. Seldat did not start working for Mr. Juryrig until seven years ago. The last of the repairs listed in this document took place a short time before that. Mr. Junkyard was not paying for repairs on the ship. In fact, Mr. Junkyard had previously hired three other ponies to fly the ship for him, all of whom went missing shortly after their employment.”

Chance’s horn glowed, and a new image floated next to the existing one.

“If you look at the dates of the missing pony reports, you will notice that they coincide roughly around the time that the repairs were made. And the repairs themselves should also be interesting: Cataclysmic failure of the life-support system, severe damage to the sparkle drive, and a hull breach from a meteorite impact. Not to mention multiple safety failures over the years, all of which had been mysteriously overlooked during Mr. Seldat’s tenure as Mr. Juryrig’s pilot.”

“If what you’re saying is correct, Chance, then a full investigation should have been launched regarding the missing ponies. It was not.”

“Not everypony is immune to lies and bribery, prosecutor.” For a brief second I could have sworn Chance had looked at the chief counselor. Said pony was adjusting his seat, his permanent frown hardening slightly.

“But so long as there is no evidence of said bribery, such thinking is not permitted in court.” Primrose replied.

“Mr. Juryrig was making routine withdrawals of a large sum of bits each month as detailed on the financials you provided for the court. This money could have been used to pay for bribes. In combination with the lack of repairs on the ship and his reluctance to pay my client, it would also explain why Mr. Juryrig would continue to use his services instead of hiring a third party. Mr. Juryrig could not afford to use a third-party service and pay the bribe to keep himself safe. Their relationship was mutually beneficial.”

Primrose frowned, “that is a very thin theory, Chance.”

Chance smiled. “It is a feasible theory, prosecutor, and one that cannot be ignored.”

Primrose shifted slightly. “If that is true, defense, then your client could not possibly want to work for Mr. Junkyard as the working conditions would be too dangerous to pilot the ship safely.”

Chance’s smile widened. “And that is where you are wrong my dear prosecutor. My client was dependent on Mr. Juryrig for employment. His... condition prevents him acquiring work in the same field, in addition, his living and financial situation would have prevented him from being unemployed for any considerable length of time. These police reports prove that.” Another set of documents replaced the ones floating in the center of the court, or rather, pictures of them. One of the documents had a coffee mug stain.

“The morning after the murder, Mr. Seldat’s apartment was raided by the station police for evidence. It was found that the building had suffered extensive damage due to disrepair. The entire building was condemned. In addition, Mr. Seldat also had nothing in the way of reserve finances according to the reports taken from his financial records. He was living from paycheck to paycheck.”

The prosecutor smiled chuckled. “Oh Chance, I thought you knew better.”

Chance frowned.

“Given your evidence you are weakening your own argument. If anything, his situation would give him even more motive to kill Mr. Juryrig. For all we know, Mr. Juryrig could have been ready to fire him right then and there.”

“Not if he was paying bribes, prosecutor.”

If, defense. The evidence does not definitively support that Mr. Juryrig was paying bribes.”

“But the possibility is there, prosecutor.”

“Possibilities are not facts, Mr. Chance. What is a fact is that your client has been observed to be frequently fighting with the victim and was present at the scene of the crime during and after the murder. You have also strengthened your client’s motive for killing the victim. Well done, you should be a prosecutor, you’re making my job much easier.”

“Prosecutor, second warning,” the Judge said.

“Of course, your honor.” Primrose replied quickly

“Mr. Seldat would not endanger his position. The relationship between him and the victim was mutually beneficial.”

“Mr. Chance,” the judge interrupted, “unfortunately for you, the prosecution is correct. So long as the bribery issue remains in question the relationship cannot be viewed as mutually beneficial. Also your clients motive remains true, since you have failed to provide sufficient evidence to call it into question.”

I swallowed.

“In that case, your honor, the defense would like to call Mr. Seldat to provide testimony about his relationship with the victim.”

“Objection, the witness is biased to the case at hand.”

“The defendant has the right to testify!” Chance shot back.

The judge thought for a few seconds. “Sustained. The defendant may testify.”

I swallowed hard. Chance turned to me and whispered in my ear. “Don’t fuck up.”

I honestly didn’t know how to respond.

The judge looked at me. “Defendant, please proceed to the witness stand. Do not fly”

All eyes turned to me, and if I had felt small before, I felt tiny now. Nervously, I walked through the center of the courtroom to the small stand sitting next to the judge’s podium feeling the weight of the room tugging at my wings. It was everything I could do to walk straight. Once I reached the stand, I turned around.

It is one thing to be at the front of a crowd, it’s another to be facing one.

From my seat at the witness stand I could see everyone. My lawyer who, from a distance, appeared to be the perfect blend of confidence, and my friends behind him, who wore reassuring smiles despite my situation. Across from them, Prism, who looked on with an impassive face, and behind her, a room full of ponies. The law students were busy taking notes, while a few more passersby had filtered into the room to observe. In the very back, a muscular white pegasus was eating a bag of... was that popcorn?

“The defense requests the use of a lie detection spell to ensure the veracity of the testimony given.”

The prosecutor blinked. So did the judge.

“I...” the prosector began, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Chance. Her mouth worked for a moment before she responded. “The prosecution agrees.”

The judge turned to me, “Defendant, do you agree to the use of a lie detection spell?”

“Um... yes?” I chuckled nervously. It’s not that I didn’t have anything to hide, but I was feeling uncomfortable about being put on the spot.

“Very well. Bailiff.”

A unicorn guard appeared next to me. His horn glowed blue, and suddenly I had a very warm feeling. It was similar to the one I’d felt with Chance, but different somehow. It seemed to permeate around me, rather than through me.

Chance smiled confidently.

“Defense, you may begin with your questioning.”

“Thank you, your honor.” Chance took a deep breath.

“Mr. Seldat, please inform the court of the nature of your relationship with the victim.”

“Um...”

My relationship with Junkyard was complicated. Yes, we hated each other, but it wasn’t really a mortal enemy kind of hate, it was a friendly hate. It was the hate associated with two ponies who simply didn’t get along with each other, but both parties recognized that they needed the other. That, and we had history. Before I worked for him and found out what a cheapskate he really was, he had helped me. He helped pay for my pilot license, and even helped me study for the test. He had been a pilot himself in a previous life, and between his knowledge and what I learned from my father, I managed to pass, if barely. It wasn’t until after I found that nopony would hire a blank flank that I signed on with Junkyard. Junkyard offered me the position, if reluctantly. So, no, I didn’t always hate him. He gave me my wings, and that was why I worked for him despite everything. Oh, and, no one else would hire me. Trust me, I looked.

Processing all this into words while on the spot was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.

“We... uh... needed each other,” I said. “Junkyard hired me to help him with his business and I got to fly in return. We both won... sorta. He got the better end of the deal, but he also helped me get my pilot license, so I kinda owed him.”

“Why did the two of you argue so much?” Chance asked.

“He was a cheap bastard,” I replied immediately. Oops.

Chance looked at me with a look that said, really? The prosecutor was busily trying to suppress her laughter. Chance groaned.

“Be more specific please.” Chance amended.

“I’d work long hours for him, and he’d only pay me half, if anything at all. I mean we argued, loudly, but after awhile it just got tiring. We both knew what we were capable of as far as shouting went and I figure he probably wanted to stop getting so many complaints from the neighbors about the noise we kept making.” I chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Chance asked.

“One of them said we bitched like a married couple.” In the back, Fritter snorted, earning a smack from Joe.

“You said he helped you get your piloting license? How?”

I took a deep breath. “Junkyard paid the entry fee for the test. He was a pilot before he started his scrap business and he helped sponsor me for the entry requirements. He also helped me study, sharing his knowledge with me to help build on what I had learned from my dad, and provided me with the study materials I needed to pass. If it wasn’t for him, I would never have become a pilot.”

“That sounds to me like you would be grateful to him. What happened to your relationship?”

“Uh... well... after I got my piloting license I started looking for work. I couldn’t find anything, unfortunately. No one wanted to hire me because I was so green, and well... other reasons. Eventually Junkyard offered me a job to pilot for him. That made my day like you wouldn’t believe. the first few months were great, though things didn’t really get better. I realized after a while that Junkyard was cheating me. He was underpaying me for the work I was doing, and when I confronted him about it he used our relationship against me. He told me I should be grateful for the help, when really he just... used me.”

I stopped a second and thought about that. I remembered how angry I was when I first realized what he was doing. We both had short tempers that day and that was really when our fighting started. That thought led to others. I glanced at Prism, who was suddenly more interested in the wall than the case at hand.

“We didn’t really get along after that. I guess that’s when our fights started. They became so common after a while that I guess neither of us really thought anything about them. They were routine.”

“Why did you stay?”

“Because I could fly,” I said. “He used that against me, but as long as I could fly, I could live with it.”

“No further questions your honor.” Chance said

“Prosecutor?” the Judge asked

Prosecutor Primrose stood up from her seat and walked toward me wearing a predatory grin. suddenly I was more acutely aware of the warmth surrounding me. Before she could start, Chance interrupted her.

“The defense would like to state that the current line of questions relates to the relationship between the client and the victim only.”

Primrose glared Chance who smiled coyly back at her. The judge nodded.

“Noted. Go ahead, prosecutor.”

Primrose cleared her throat.

“Mr. Seldat. Is it true that the victim defrauded you of wages while working in his service?”

It was a simple yes or no question. I couldn’t lie, of course, but for some reason my lack of choices disturbed me. I frowned.

“Yes.” I said

“And is it true that this behavior continued throughout the seven years that you worked for him?”

“Yes.”

“Did that make you angry?”

“Sometimes.”

“Yes or no, Mr. Seldat.”

“Yes.”

“Witnesses have reported that you sometimes resort to violence when you become angry, is this true Mr. Seldat?”

“Y-yes.” In fact I had, several times. I could still remember the overturned furniture. It was part of why my couch was broken.

“Have you ever taken this anger out on another pony?”

I bit my lip. I remembered all the times I had shouted at dock workers, or been particularly snappy after a long argument. I’d yelled at ponies in my frustration: The grocers, other faders, other pilots, friends. They didn’t deserve the treatment I gave them, not at all. But I was hurt, and I needed an outlet. I didn’t care who suffered because of it. I was selfish.

“Yes,” I said, “but-”

“Has anypony ever been hurt in your outbu-

Objection!” Chance shouted.

“Sustained. Prosecutor you will keep the questions related to the matter at hand.”

“Yes, your honor.” Primrose huffed. “Mr. Seldat, is it true that Mr. Juryrig was your only option for employment?”

“Only so long as I wanted to keep flying, yes.”

“You couldn’t have found another job?”

“Yes, I just said that,” I said, growing a little irritated. “How many blank flank pilots do you know?”

The prosecutor smiled. I started to grind my teeth.

“Did you know that there are laws that prevent hiring choices from being made based solely on your cutie mark?”

“Yes. And when I tried to use them, nothing happened. I was always passed over for ‘more qualified candidates’”

“Would it be any stretch of the imagination to say that the reason nopony else would hire you was because you were inexperienced?”

“After seven years of hard work and over 15,000 hours of flight time? No.”

“So you blame your inability to find work on the fact that you’re a blank flank?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question, defendant.”

“Yes!”

“Did you know much about Mr. Juryrig’s personal affairs during your employ with him?”

“No.”

“So you do not know if he had been paying bribes to a third party?”

I was silent for a second. Junkyard had always complained about not making enough bits, but I had always figured he was just greedy. When you have an IOU for a cutie mark, it’s no surprise that you would live up to the standard your flank set. Maybe Junkyard’s special talent was going broke.

“Not really.” I said.

The prosecutor’s smile broadened. “So how is it that you are so confident you would not lose your job by shouting at your employer? Any sane pony would have fired you on the spot. Were you blackmailing the victim?”

“What? No!”

“Explain then. If nopony was demanding bribes from Mr. Juryrig, why then would he continue to employ you? You constantly fought and you were especially costly to maintain. Even the taxes Mr. Juryrig paid on the ship alone were enough to justify firing you.”

“I...” I had thought it was because he was a cheapskate, but with the numbers right in front of me I couldn’t really argue. Junkyard was operating at a loss. The weight of that took a little time to sink in. It would have made a lot of sense for him to fire me, especially considering how much we hated each other. “I don’t know,” I answered lamely.

“Did you ever stop to consider, Mr. Seldat, that the reason Mr. Juryrig could not pay you was because he was stripped for funds?” I recalled the bitter expression on his face each time he paid me. He never really paid me in full for anything, although I had never actually seen what the inside of his safe looked like. For all I knew he could have been loaded--clearly not.

“No,” I said.

“For somepony who has helped you as greatly as you said, you don’t seem to share that bond. Mr. Seldat. Though judging from your character I don’t find that entirely surprising.”

What.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“You have clearly demonstrated that you are a short tempered and irritable pony with a tendency for aggression as testified by other witnesses. It is not a stretch of the imagination to picture you capable of the act of murder.”

“Objection!” Chance shouted.

“Objection to what? Mr. Chance?”

“You are needlessly bashing my client’s character!”

“Oh really?” Primrose said, a devilish smile on her face.The evidence on display was replaced with a new image. It was a picture of me flashing my rump at a sentry’s camera in a very lewd manner. I heard a snicker as Fritter tried to stop himself from laughing. I could feel my face burning. I hid my head in my forelegs on the table.

“Clearly your client is of the highest moral fiber,” Primrose deadpanned.

The look Chance gave me is best left without words.

“Um... oopsie?” I offered.

“The prosecution rests, your honor,” Primrose said.

Chance motioned for me to come join him. I walked back across the floor to our table and sat down next to him. Dreading whatever he was going to say next. He looked at me, and then looked away. Somehow I think the silence hurt more.

“Your honor,” Chance stated wearily, “As seen from these discussions Mr. Seldat could not have possessed sufficient motive to commit the act of murder.His continued employment was dependent on Mr. Juryrig for his livelihood, as meager as it may have been. My client would not endanger that opportunity on the grounds that it would strip him of his passion. The defense motions to place the motive under question.”

The prosecution stood. “The prosecution states that the continued arguments between Mr. Seldat and the victim were the result of a growing rift between the two ponies. As demonstrated by his irascibility while under question, Mr. Seldat is highly volatile and would be capable of murder under correct strain. The prosecution further states that the defendant would have been thoroughly exhausted after his shift and would not have possessed the mental stamina to control himself. The motive should stand.”

The judge regarded the prosecutor and Chance thoughtfully, her steely gaze bouncing between the two. For a second her eyes flitted to the chief counselor whose dour expression hadn’t changed during the entire proceedings. Several seconds of silence followed while she thought.

“The motive stands,” the judge said, “unless the defense is ready to produce more convincing evidence to the contrary, I have seen nothing that would convince me that Mr. Seldat would not be willing to commit murder.”

A loss on both fronts. My ear twitched. This was not what we needed. Still, Chance plowed ahead.

“If that is the case, then the defense would like to call into question the murder weapon.”

“The murder weapon was not recovered. There is nothing to question.” Primrose stated.

“Where did he get it?” Chance said anyway. Primrose frowned. “My client had neither the time nor the finances to acquire a weapon like the one used to kill junkyard.”

“Blackmarket goods are not terribly hard to come by if one knows where to look, Mr. Chance.”

“But they are expensive, prosecutor. My client would not have had the funds to purchase a weapon like the one used to kill Mr. Juryrig. Nor would he have had the time to acquire it.”

“He had plenty of time to acquire it.” Primrose said, “according to the docking schedule Mr. Seldat was not on the job every day, he could have acquired the weapon during one of his days off and used it the day of the murder. In addition, there are other ways to pay for goods and services, especially in the underworld.”

Luna forbid if I didn’t know that was true.

“Such as?” Chance questioned.

“An exchange of non-monetary goods or services, either at the time of the exchange or a future time.”

Favors. Fucking hell.

“And what exactly would my client have to trade? His schedule was too busy for anything related to his occupation, and without the right clearance his ship could not leave the docks.”

“Information, Chance, Mr. Seldat was in the business of harvesting satellites. They can sometimes contain very valuable information for the right ponies.”

“Assuming he knew the right ponies to begin with.”

“He wouldn’t need to, someone else would just have to have the right offer,” the prosecutor countered.

“Then how would he had the weapon.”

“His suit had storage, it would have been simple to draw it on Mr. Juryrig, especially with that WAND he was so fond of wearing. Motive, and opportunity. I really don’t see what there is left to discuss.”

Chance bit his lip.

“Do you have any further evidence to submit to the court Mr. Chance?”

“In fact I do, you honor, but at the same time I don’t.”

Primrose laughed. “What kind of answer is that?”

“This investigation is missing a key piece of evidence, which we were denied access to prior to these proceedings.” Chance said pointedly.

“And that would be?” Primrose purred. Something was wrong, it was almost like she was counting on this.

“A surveillance video.”

“Oh! You mean this one?” The prosecutor’s WAND glowed and a new image was displayed in the center of the room. A video played. A very, very wrong video.

It was me. Standing in front of the office, striding past the dock worker, as she left the building.

“This was the night of the murder,” Primrose said smoothly.

I flashed a smile to the dockworker as I passed her. She smiled back.

“I would have brought this up earlier, but it really didn’t seem necessary given the overwhelming evidence we already possessed. That and I like to be prepared for foolhardy appeals.”

I entered the Office. Moments passed, and then the windows flashed rapidly.

“As you can see, Chance, there is no doubt who killed Mr. Juryrig.”

Moments later I left the office, smiling. The video stopped on my face.

I sat there transfixed, staring at the impossibility before me. Beside me, Chance choked.

“That’s impossible,” I muttered.

“What…” Chance said, turning his head his face held confusion, and then anger. “What is this?” He wheeled on me a foreleg pointed at the display. “was THIS your video?”

“N-no! I… I di-” I blanched, backing away from him.

“How… dare you,” he growled. “You lied to me?”

Across from us the prosecutor was laughing.

“That’s not me Chance! I swear!”

“As you can see your honor this really is an open and shut case. As it was before this silly little appeal.”

“Yeah, bullshit Horizon. These videos are straight from the archives. No one can modify them. especially not you. I can’t believe I fell for your sob story. I don’t know how you got past a truth spell, Horizon but I suppose it doesn’t even matter now.”

I swallowed.

“Truth spell? Chance?” The prosecutor asked, an eyebrow raised.

“No point in hiding it now,” he sighed. “Yes, a truth spell. I used one on him during our initial interview. I wanted to be sure I could represent him in good faith per Article 87.”

She seemed to nod quietly to herself before saying, “Just goes to show you can’t always rely on magic.”

“I’ve heard enough,” the judge said, “from the evidence provided it is clear the defendant is guilty. Horizon Seldat your appeal is hereby denied.” The gavel raised.

The door to the hallway slammed open.

“Alright! I’ve had enough of this shit!” A voice called from the back of the room. All heads turned. Officer Silvermane stood in her uniform, looking so livid she might have been able to burn a hole through steel. A WAND blazed on her head as she charged down the aisle..

“Lieutenant! We are in session! What is the meaning of this?” The Judge barked.

“I’ve got approval from the chief of the Pegasus Bureau of Justice. I have with me a piece of evidence which was overlooked during the trial. I think you’ll find its contents surprising.”

She charged the center of the room, her WAND lighting up and overwriting the center display. A new video played. It was a video of me flying. I was being targeted by a traffic sentry, and next to the reticule a fine was racking up. It also had a time next to it.

“What?” Chance said. The video paused. Primrose stopped breathing. Chairs shifted.

Played side by side with the other, the timestamps matched almost perfectly.

“It’s over,” he said as he processed what he was seeing. A few moments later, he started laughing. The prosecutor simply stared, mouth agape.

“Well this certainly wasn’t how I expected to win the case,” Chance laughed.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Primrose muttered. “O-officer, can you verify this new evidence?”

“Both videos are straight from the archive. They have not been doctored in any way.”

Silence. Blissful, unadulterated silence.

“If I may point out,” Chance said, regaining his confidence, “The pony on the left seems very tired, as he flies in a plaza ten minutes from the crime scene. I’ll admit I would be tired too, if I was in two places at once.”

“You’re not serious,” Primrose sputtered. “You’re going to use THAT?”

“I don’t see any other possibility, and as I recall the only other known method is buried underneath a mile of ice.”

“Alright then answer me this, Chance, Which one is the real one?”

“If I may interject, I did look that up,” Officer Silvermane said. “Horizon’s WAND was located in the plaza at the time of the murder.”

Chance smiled. “And while a changeling’s magic can imitate a pony, it can’t imitate equipment.”

“I’ve heard enough,” the judge interrupted. “It is clear that given this... surprising evidence, Mr. Seldat is not responsible for the murder of Junkyard Juryrig. Given these circumstances, the case will be reopened and the investigation will continue.”

Tension melted from my shoulders. I slumped in my seat, breathing what felt like my first breath of fresh air in years.

“Further charges will be examined pending judicial review. Congratulations Mr. Seldat, you’re free to go.”

The gavel echoed throughout the chamber.

Ponies turned to leave, muttering amongst themselves. I grabbed the sleeve of Chance’s suit. “What just happened?” I asked him as he scooted from his seat. I was still feeling dazed at the sudden change in atmosphere. He beamed at me, laughing like a giddy colt at his birthday party.

“Changeling defense,” he replied. The swoosh of his tail followed him as he left me to gawk.

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Author's Note:

Let me start by saying that I am not satisfied with how this chapter turned out. I am not entirely familiar with how the legal system works if it isn't completely evident by what you just read. I've made about 15 rewrites, and in my opinion all of them were awful. At this point I'm done. I'm moving on with the story and I'm sorry if any of you feel let down by this chapter.

Oh well, every day is a learning experience. Here's hoping the rest go smoother.