Introduction
“The court will now come to order,” said Princess Celestia. She didn’t shout or bang her gavel, for while both options were open to her she commanded authority without them. All it took was her soft command, and the level of chatter in the courtroom abruptly diminished. Ponies started to find their seats, and the last few spectators piled into the back.
At the table for the prosecution, Long Arm looked back over his shoulder and paused briefly to take in the crowd. The courtroom was packed, with standing room only for spectators, and even a few pegasi hanging up in the rafters for a better view. He wasn’t surprised. This was going to be the trial of the decade, if not the century, and he wouldn't have missed it for the world either.
Turning back ahead, Long Arm glanced up at the judge—Princess Celestia. It was rare she held court in person, but this trial warranted it. There wasn’t another judge in Equestria the defense couldn't intimidate, and half the ponies in Equestria wouldn't vote to convict if the defendant ate a puppy in front of them. Long Arm had made his career fighting Equestria’s best connected and most influential criminals—ponies who believed they were above the law. This case would be the height of his career, and if he failed, the end of it.
Eventually, silence came to the courtroom, and Celestia spoke again. “The trial of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza will now begin.” At the defendant’s table sat Cadence, Ruler of the Crystal Empire, Ambassador to Cloudsdale, Princess of Love, and now, defendant in a trial that could put her away for a very long time indeed. “The defendant,” continued Celestia, “faces twelve counts of Abuse of Magic, Unlawful Use of Mind-Altering Magic, and Reckless Negligence Leading to Gross Personal Harm, as well as one count of Assault. How does the defense plead?”
Cadence’s lawyer was a weasely little pegasus named Loop Hole—a grey pony with spindly wings and a shock-blonde mane and tail. Long Arm had faced him in court multiple times and lost to him twice, but as he watched the little stallion clear his throat and collect himself, he was more curious than hostile. He didn’t begrudge another lawyer for knowing their trade, and Loop Hole was very good at what he did, but Long Arm didn’t think even he could get Cadence out of this one. The evidence was too strong, and there was no way that Celestia would be seen letting her own niece off serious changes on a technicality.
“The defense,” Loop Hole finally spoke, with his reedy little voice, “moves for a dismissal.”
“On what basis?” Celestia demanded.
“The jury,” he gestured at the box of ponies across the room, representing a random assortment of all races, occupations, and genders, “is biased against my client. In the weeks leading up to this trial, they have been bombarded with media claiming that my client has ‘Gone mad with power,’ as well as sensationalist stories presenting unfounded claims of further offenses. My client has a right to an unbiased jury of her peers, which this courtroom clearly cannot provide.”
“Movement for dismissal is rejected,” Celestia said curtly, giving a small shake of her head. “While I appreciate your concern, the jury has been kept well insulated from the stories you describe.”
“Equestria has spoken of little else for the past several weeks,” Loop Hole tried to press his point. In Long Arm’s opinion, it was somewhat foolish—never argue with the judge—but he couldn't blame the little grey lawyer. The evidence was so stacked against his client that a dismissal was likely his only hope. “How could you possibly have found a jury that doesn’t read the papers, listen to criers, or participate in gossip of any sort? It would be easier to find ponies who still don’t know about Princess Twilight’s coronation—”
“Dude!” snapped an angry pony on the jury—a dark blue stallion with a starry mane. “Spoilers!”
“Oh,” said Loop Hole. He shuffled the papers in front of him.
“Indeed,” said Celestia. “Continue, council.”
“In that case.” Loop Hole cleared his throat. “We move for a dismissal on the basis that my client has a right to a jury of her peers. The jury contains neither alicorns nor crystal ponies, and thus cannot be said to contain peers of my client in any social, cultural, or legal sense.”
“So you suggest that the Princess of the Crystal Empire be put on trial by a jury of exclusively crystal ponies?” Celestia asked, her normally sweet tone turning icy. Long Arm flinched. “Or perhaps the council would prefer a jury consisting of the defendant’s aunts and former child ward?”
Loop Hole glanced at Cadence, who rolled her eyes and gestured him on. He swallowed. “A mix of the two would also be acceptable, Your Highness.”
“And if such a jury was assembled, would you then move for a dismissal on the basis that they were biased by virtue of their strong cultural or personal ties to the defendant?” Celestia asked, her icy tone growing no warmer.
“Well, I, uh...”
“Movement for dismissal is rejected.” Celestia’s words came quick and sharp, prompting a low murmur of conversation throughout the courtroom. “And if you attempt to avoid entering a plea again, I will hold you in contempt.”
Cadence sat back against her chair, seeming more annoyed with the proceedings than actually worried. Loop Hole glanced at her but she only shrugged, and after a moment he nodded to Celestia. “Not guilty.”
“Is the State prepared to make its opening statement?” Celestia’s gazed turned upon Long Arm, who quickly rose to his hooves.
“Yes, your Highness.” He bowed his head low to his Princess, and stepped out from behind the table. Turning to the jury box, he spoke, “Assembled members of the jury. You have been gathered here today for a historic task. Here, today, is your duty to prove that nopony is above the law. The defendant, as you all know, is a Princess of Equestria, a pony who some would say is beyond—”
“Tl;dr,” said one member of the jury, shrugging.
“Opening is weak. It lacks a hook,” agreed another.
Long Arm froze to the spot, bewildered that a member of the jury would interrupt the opening statement. He looked to Princess Celestia for guidance, but she merely gestured for him to continue. Long Arm straightened his tie and turned back to the jury box, but when he spoke again, he felt significantly less confident than he had a moment before.
“—beyond any reproach.” He swallowed. “But today, in this court, you will see overwhelming evidence of her crimes. With mountains of material evidence and hundreds of witnesses, there can be no doubt of what occurred. The defendant, Princess Cadence, recklessly and willfully discharged her love magic into a crowded marketplace, striking almost a dozen ponies. Their lives have been upturned, their old relationships ruined, their very spiritual integrity shattered. There can be no doubt as to the magnitude of her crimes, or of her guilt. The only question that remains is if you have the courage and the strength to do your civic duty and vote to convict. I urge you to do your civic duty here today, and to show that the law still rules Equestria.”
Whispers ran through the courtroom as Long Arm took his seat again. The jury looked distinctly unimpressed, with expressions ranging from bored to irritated. Now it was Long Arm’s turn to look down at the table in front of him, nervously shuffling his briefs as he pretended to read them. He’d gone into this case assuming the jury would be at least mostly fair, but he didn’t know what to make of this.
“Is the defense prepared to make its opening statement?” Celestia asked.
Loop Hole nodded, and then slowly lifted one of his papers in front of him. Without getting up, he cleared his throat, but before he could read, Princess Cadence reached out and touched his shoulder. He paused, and she leaned over, whispering intently into his ear. His already grey face turned even paler, and with trembling hooves, he returned his brief to the table. Without picking up another sheet, he spoke.
“Juror #6 has the cutest coat/mane color pattern,” he said, “I ship you with my OC. Or maybe the redhead in the background.”
An explosion of chatter filled the courtroom, and Celestia banged her gavel. Juror number six held his hoof to his chest and grinned, while the redheaded pony behind him looked like she’d eaten a bad lemon. “Jury intimidation!” cried somepony in the stands, while others shouted “OTP!” or “Background/Main!”
Behind the table, Long Arm let his face sink into his hooves, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.