#Courthouse Justice Center

[mightaswelljxmp]

hm ok so interestingly, bdubs’s courthouse is built on an odd number of blocks. note the roof of the facade coming to a point, but more importantly, the nine pillars….

you don’t use an odd number of pillars. like ever.

let me get this out of the way first: i get why you’d build with odd numbers in minecraft. i usually do it myself, to not run into problems like double doors or two-wide pointed roofs or frustrating spacing/symmetry between decorative elements. however. to not even out the design of something so unequivocally done in every other example of columns and pillars…. fascinating implications…

every other example guys. every other building with columns like this has an even number of them.

doing so sets the line of symmetry at an invisible point between two pillars, an even number on each side. but an odd total number of pillars makes the central pillar itself the line of symmetry. this does a couple things.

one, it upends the sense of community and equality. which i know sounds crazy, but really, a group of columns are all put there to hold up a structure. there’s no focus on one because they are all are working as supports.

symbolically, at least when first used in ancient greece, pillars represented people. and it makes sense for courthouses, especially, to want to show an even, fair, equal number of people on each side. no focus on any one, no inherent bias right off the bat just looking at it.

with an odd number of pillars, though, one will always be placed front and center.

and THEN. and then you walk in the courtroom itself (also odd-numbered blocks) and you are immediately opposite the judge, bdubs, located exactly centrally. and true, courtrooms are often set up like this anyway. but bdubs ups the ante and reaffirms that no, focus is on him by staging it all as a daytime court show, boom mic just over his head, cameras pointed in, spotlights on him.

literally by design, it was not built for justice. it’s built for show, for entertainment. and just look at the credits to know exactly what sort of message you’re supposed to be getting from this show.

the biblical story he used, with king solomon. it’s about king solomon. isn’t really about the trial itself, or the babies, or the women. it’s about showing (off) how wise and just he is. that’s the point. hm. interesting.

now, getting to the second point that etho also picked up on: it feels like a prison.

it’s not just the color palette. when your eyes naturally draw to the center point, you aren’t seeing an open space. instead of feeling like an arch or gateway or otherwise some kind of opening, the pillar there makes it feel closed off. the overall effect is that of prison bars. not pillars lining the entrance to a place of order or a temple. bars of a cage, a cell.

imagine the lincoln memorial were set up with 11 or 13 pillars. he’d look so much more trapped in there.

having a central pillar blocks the entrance. it’s not welcoming. you have to go around it; it’s immediately inconveniencing you. and when you go to leave, it’s there blocking you again.

this courthouse was not designed and built to be fair, nor accomodating, nor equitable, on any terms. even if unintentional, i wouldn’t call it so much coincidental as i would… subconscious.

after all, y’know. form follows function.

[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- oral sex (fem recieving) titty fucking, light slapping, breed kink, basically them being cute!

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap- 7k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 13 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

Chapter 14

Right inside the little courthouse, standing in your wedding dress, with Maki holding your hand, you look at your soon-to-be husband Satoru Gojo. There's a hung over Suguru standing next to him, Nanami and Yuta are clearly hung over in the bench seats as well, but you still focus on that gorgeous man directly across from this room, in his white tuxedo.

Satoru Gojo.

Professor Gojo.

Or, as you know him, Toru.

You’ve come a long way from ‘Professor Dickhead’ and ‘Miss Brat’ haven’t you both? From a bathroom at a club to an undying love, from aching for his touch in your seat to him being constantly all over you. From tentatively becoming boyfriend and girlfriend to being insane and getting married in the span of a few months, it feels so surreal.

You should be worried it’s too soon, worried about this or that, but all you can do is be so damn happy. You just feel euphoric, so enamored of him, by how much you adore him, love him, need him, and are unable to imagine your life without him. Can’t imagine yourself before him.

His eyes catch yours then, and he’s looking up and down your body carefully, before he gets the biggest grin on that handsome face, and instead of waiting for you to walk up to him… well, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about… he decides instead to run to you and pick you up in the center of the room, spinning you in the air, making you giggle breathlessly.

“Toru, stop it! Put me down!” Nanami and Suguru are chuckling, though tired, hungover chuckles, and Maki is just smiling at you two.

“You look so fucking gorgeous . I’m such a lucky man.” He eases you down, hands firm on your waist now, and you look up into his sparkling blue eyes, your lips trembling, arms wrapping around his neck.

“You’re insane too, you know. You’re supposed to wait up there for me!” He sighs, stepping back and looking at you again.

“God, this body in this dress…” He kisses you then, lips pressing on yours. You’re clinging to him, sighing into his lips, as his big hands take over your waist, cinched in the pretty wedding gown. “So beautiful.”

“And you’re the most handsome man in the world.” You whisper, looking up at him then, he’s exhaling, blue swirling gaze drinking in your face, as you drink him in, how perfect he looks, how he is your everything.

“Of course I am.”

“You’re also the most insane.”

He smirks now, grabbing your hand and yanking you along to where the justice of the peace is smiling, watching the two of you. “You knew that already.”

“You already kissed the bride!?” Suguru says, hiccuping then, you click your tongue at him.

“Too many shots, Suguru?”

“Yeah, yeah. Your fault.” He grumbles, you just giggle.

“How are you so bright eyed?” Nanami demands, leaning his head back on the bench with a grimace.

“Because I only had like two drinks, silly boys.”

“Silly boys! I’m older than you.” Suguru says.

“Hmm, still silly.” You stick your tongue out, and Suguru chuckles.

“You have your hands full.”

“Oh, I will.” Satoru says, wolfish grin, wiggling his brows, all of the room is laughing now, even Yuta, before he goes back to looking sick.

“Water.” He pleads, Maki hands him a bottle, he chugs and sighs. “I’ll be fine, promise!”

“Ahem, is everyone ready?” Says the young man in front of you now, amusedly watching you all, you nod shyly, taking Satoru’s hands now, your own are getting all sweaty with your nerves.

You’re doing this.

You’re marrying your Professor.

You’re marrying the best lawyer there is.

You’re marrying Satoru Gojo, the love of your life.

It’s like a dream, but it’s your reality, this goofy, silly, gorgeous man, that since you met him, you just cannot stand to live without. How could you ever spend even a day without being in his arms, without looking into the most beautiful set of eyes that existed? Without your favorite person, who has become so dear so fucking fast, as if he’d always been yours?

“Should I bother to say the typical stuff?” He asks Satoru then, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Keep it to the basics. We have our own things to say to each other.” The man nods then, looking at you now.

“Then would you like to go first, with what you’ve prepared?” You nod, taking several breaths to prepare. “Perfect, so we’re gathered here to celebrate the union of…” He says your name, making your heart race faster. “And Satoru Gojo. They’ve both got… well, a lot to say as I’m sure you all know.”

They all laugh, then eyes are on you. You look up into his eyes again, snowy lashes lowered, his face a little more serious, big hands clutching yours tightly, then you know, Satoru is just a little bit nervous too. The most calm and collected lawyer, who can laugh right in the face of any danger, is a nervous thing just like you, something about it melts you even more.

“Satoru, we met… well, in a nightclub. It’s not the most romantic place, is it? But somehow, it was romantic, when I bumped right into you, spilling my drink all over your very nice shirt.”

“It was four hundred dollars.”

“Stupid.” He snorts and you playfully shove him. “Let me finish!”

“Always.” You blush at his tone, then take another breath.

“It was romantic regardless, because it’s you, and you make any place in this world something beautiful, with your presence, with your light that just shines from you, with your beautiful soul.”

“Fuck off, brat.” He whispers, eyes glimmering with tears. You smile, blinking back your own emotions.

“You never let me finish my sentences, you’re so annoying, you’re childish, and you’re basically a hyper kid on chocolate.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.” Suguru agrees.

“You… Satoru Gojo…” You hold his hand, bringing it to your lips, brushing them along the backside of his knuckles. “You fight for what you believe in, you are so authentically yourself, no matter what. You hold true to your convictions, and never waver. You’re so amazing, just as amazing as you like to say you are.” He smiles just a bit.

“I sure am.”

The room rolls its eyes. “You are also the love of my life. Truly, with you, it’s like I finally have a home. I  meant what I said that day, the day I confessed my true feelings, the love in my heart, that I will always be by your side. You never have to worry, or wonder, I’ll be right here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” You say, shaking as you do, overwhelmed by so much emotion.

Now you’re wiping his tears, he huffs, swiping them with the back of his hand, as are your friends, even the usually more stoic Nanami is swiping at his eyes. You feel your own tears falling, as you pour your heart out for him, knowing it’s safe to do so, knowing that.

“You accept everything about me, without question, you challenge me, make me think, make me do more, do better . You are the best man I’ve ever met, and I know you’ll be the best husband. And one day, I hope, an amazing father.” Satoru sighs now, resting his head on yours. “I love you Satoru Gojo, and I will love you, until the day I take my last breath, and even after.”

“Shit.” Is all he manages, and you giggle a bit, as now he’s kissing your salty tears, cupping your face.

“I’m ready for this, it’s insane, it’s probably too fast, but our relationship has been fast, intense, a hell of a ride. One I’m never getting off. I love you.” He kisses you again, your hands gently gripping his wrists as he keeps kissing you.

“You know you’re supposed to wait?” The man says, but even he has tears in his eyes.

“She’s a brat, she loves to make everyone cry like her.” Satoru says, and you glare, shoving at him.

“Now, it’s your turn Mr. Gojo. Can you top that?” He teases, clearly he is one of Satoru’s friends. Satoru grins now, nodding, swiping back that silky white hair, and looking down at you, eyes still glassy.

“Miss Brat.” You roll your eyes, giggling at him, looking at Maki for a moment who’s snuggled with Yuta, tissues smushed on her face with Yuta’s hand, not a sight you thought you’d see. Then you look back at your love.

“Professor.” You tease.

“I knew you were trouble the moment you ran into me, you were so clumsy you know.” You glare, and everyone laughs. “You didn’t belong there, something about you just seemed… different. When I first saw your pretty face, it was like a punch to the gut, like I couldn’t breathe for a moment.”

Your turn to be a ball of emotions, you are choking on a sob as he speaks. “You really felt that way?” You ask softly, he nods then.

“Fuck yeah I did, I played it off cool, or tried to, but you tilted my world on its axis, I knew you were so special, without even knowing you. Then, when we reconnected… god I couldn’t get you out of my head. I thought to myself, if I don’t have this girl, I can’t even go on, I need her in my life in some way. I couldn’t get the feel of your lips on mine out of my mind, like a brand on my mouth.”

His every word intoxicates you, touches you so deeply, how can you keep falling ever deeper into him? “Satoru…”

“I love you so much, I can’t even begin to really explain it, me… a man who can never shut the fuck up.” You smile, but it’s getting hard to see now, the tears flowing down your cheeks now. “But you left me speechless, you left me breathless, but then… now, I need you to breathe.”

“Like oxygen.” You whisper back, and he nods eagerly, cupping your face gently once more, thumb brushing your lips.

“Like oxygen. I need you, there is nothing without you, you are my world, and I will do everything to take care of you, every day, no matter what.”

“Oh Satoru…” You’re barely hanging on, in this little court house with a beautiful dress, and a gorgeous soon to be husband, saying things you once only heard in your dreams from him. Now, he’s yours.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness, and in health, for as long as you live?” He asks now, and you nod, taking the beautiful ring that Maki runs up to you, Satoru’s eyes widen at it.

“Of course I do.”

“The ring! It’s badass as fuck.” He says, earning more laughter in the emotional little room, you slide the gleaming jeweled ring on his finger, your own hands shaking so much that he has to hold them again.

“And do you, Satoru Gojo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and health, for as long as you live?”

“Oh, even after I’m gone, I’ll always love you.” He says, and fuck... You hope your waterproof makeup is doing its job, because you’re officially a wreck, when he pulls out a gold band that matches your ring, delicate with little diamonds all around it. Your heart swells when he kisses your hand once more.

“I now pronounce you both, husband and wife. I mean… you already kissed a ton, but, kiss again.” Satoru grins, as do you, then he’s got you lifted in his arms, spinning you in a circle, you cling to him like you did the night you met, when he’d first kissed you.

Your lips meld together, salty tears mixed with sweet breath, he finally eases you to stand, and your friends are clapping for you all, but your eyes are locked on his, as if he is the only thing in this room, in this world. You choke on your cry, sniffling now, but Gojo’s emotional too, as he strokes your cheek with the backs of his fingers, tilting your chin up.

“I love you, Miss Brat. Wife. Bratty wife.” You giggle again, leaning up and pulling him down by his jacket, kissing him over and over.

“And I love you, husband. My Toru.” It takes damn near everything to separate the two of you, friends dragging you apart just to get to reception (basically a big ass party you all are throwing) when all you can think of is fucking your husband .

Six Months Later

“All done for the day, Professor Geto.” You are interning with Professor Geto, you finally are done with your first year of law school today, the end of a very insane year. Though the school allowed you and Satoru to have class together, they took you out of any running of his internship, for favoritism reasons.

Little did they know Gojo was still hard on you in class, and pushed you to your limits, he certainly wouldn’t have given you that internship if you had not earned it, but you were lucky enough that Suguru chose you to do his. It was brutal, long hours, but you learned so much with him, it worked out perfectly.

The bonus was that Satoru, Nanami and Suguru all worked close together, and Maki and Yuta interned with Nanami, so you all saw each other constantly. The six of you were extremely close, even though you all had your own lives, especially you and Satoru now more so than ever.

Suguru smiles at you now, lips quirking up. standing and taking the thick binders you have for him. You’re the last one there in the office on his team, as you were trying to get all your work caught up to finish the semester, so that you can help Satoru with his next big case. You yawn again, and he pats your head, tilting his own as he studies you.

“You work too hard, you know. In your condition.”

“Hush!” You shut his mouth with your palm, looking around, and he’s chuckling against it. “What if someone was here!”

“They’re all gonna know next year, anyway, you know you’re gonna have a big ass kid with those Gojo genes.”

“Ugh, you’re telling me! Can you tell!?” You turn now, and he hums to himself, smirking now. “Oh tell me, already Suguru!”

“Not by your tummy, no… but…” He wiggles his brows, and you scowl.

“Oh you perv!” You cover your breasts with your jacket, fuming as you realize it’s not buttoning, only to hear more of him snorting in laughter. “Shit, you’re right.”

“I’m sure Satoru’s loving that.” You roll your eyes with a smile.

“You know he won’t leave me alone for two minutes-”

“Shnookums!” Satoru pounces into the room now, leaping to you and bringing you into his strong arms, kissing your neck over and over.

“You all are going to do great, promise.” He says to you both, and you melt, as does Satoru, grinning big at his best friend.

“And you’re gonna be the best Uncle, Sugu.” He says, before grabbing your breasts, and you smack his hands, as Suguru blushes, looking up at the ceiling of his office.

“Jesus, Satoru.”

“Toru, really!?”

“What they’re so comforting to squeeze. Fine…” He lets your breasts go, pressing on your tummy instead. “I just love touching you, been all day I just missed my girl…”

“Go on now, good luck with him, love.” Suguru says, waving you all off as Satoru drags you out of the building, you can barely keep up with him as you dart to the car waiting for you, Ijichi is there to greet you both, smiling tiredly.

“Mr. and Mrs. Gojo.” You give him a peck on the cheek and a smile, making him blush, before Satoru slides in next to you in the back of the car.

“You can’t just grab my tits like that in front of Sugu!” You huff, shoving at him, and he’s pouting, like he’s an innocent baby, and not a fiend.

“I’m sorry, but they’re so pretty! I just wanna love on you.” He nuzzles your throat now, pulling you to him, and you sigh as you sink into his embrace, inhaling that scent you love so much, body reacting quickly.

“Fine, you get away with it this time. Oh gosh, Toru, everyone will know I’m pregnant next semester. I’ll be a whale.”

“Will not! Don’t be a meanie to yourself. Gonna be beautiful.” He has you on his lap now, sideways, rubbing your tummy gently. You blink back emotions now, and he notices, kissing your lips softly. “Promise you will be.”

“I’m so excited, but so nervous! Do you think I’ll keep up with these studies with a baby?” Your hand joins his over your tummy now, bringing a sense of peace that washes over you, every time you’re with him.

“You are a nerdy brat, you can do it.”

“Hey!” He just chuckles, cradling you in his arms.

“You can do some at home studies for a while, maybe come back to campus in a bit, you know we can just bring the baby to law school. Get it in early.”

“A little scholar, huh?”

“Mmm… it’ll be a challenge, but you got it. We got it, you’re not alone in this, ever. I promise.” Satoru kisses you deeper now, still gently rubbing your tummy, you’re only three months along so not much has changed yet, but you both know, and can tell the smallest changes.

“I know you’ll help me no matter what, we are a team.” You caress his face softly as you speak.

“Damn right, also you’re young, you don’t have to knock out law school so fast, it’s not like you can’t come with me and learn any time. And I’ll be there to teach you, my favorite student.”

“Teach me, hmm?” You tease now, he grins.

“Yes, Miss Brat. You still have a lot to learn, you know. You’re a good student but you have some discipline issues.”

“Me!?”

“Mmm.” Satoru is stumbling with you as you kiss fervently, inside your home now, lips barely leaving yours, only to breathe, you all kick off your shoes, you toss your purse, he tosses his wallet, you yank off his tie, he shoves off your blazer.

You’re slowly just leaving a trail of clothes and items everywhere, until you’re in your bra and panties, tits overflowing already, aching and tender. Satoru’s full lips part, thin nostrils flaring. He’s unbuttoning his dress shirt, shaking his head slightly, you’re biting your lower lip, eyes lowering shyly, the whirl of the giant fans overhead cooling overheated skin.

“ Fuck… these tits, lemme see em, baby girl.” He pleads, and you unsnap your bra then, exhaling at how good it feels when they’re released, they bounce as they do, and Satoru’s on you in a flash, picking you up and sitting you right on the kitchen table, squishing them in his hands.

“Mmm, be easy, please.” You whisper, as his thumbs brush over your nipples, making you tremble at how sensitive they are already. He exhales, eyes locking as he presses you back gently, one hand sliding up your chest, the other playing with your breast easier now.

“They’re so sexy. Imagine when they’re all full of milk.”

“Toru!”

“What, it'll be hot.” You’re a blushing mess, and he chuckles, kissing down one of your breasts, to your nipple, sucking a peak in his hot mouth. “Mmm.”

“Mmm!” You both moan as he sucks on one, the pressure between your thighs building, the tension coiling in your lower tummy. “Toru…”

“Let me take my time, eager little brat.” He murmurs, now kissing your other breasts, tongue swirling around an areola, before he sucks the nipple in his mouth, making you wetter. You’re grinding your hips on the table, biting your lip, aching for more and more.

“Please…”

“Impatient, hmm?” Satoru’s big hands now slide up your thighs, smirking so sexy as he studies you. “Oh, those thighs love to shift for me, rub together, don’t they?”

“F-fuck off.” He glares then, yanking you off the table, turning you and unzipping your pencil skirt, you laugh breathless when it gets stuck then. “I’m getting all big already.”

“Shut up, you are not. I can’t wait till you do though.” He unzips you finally, revealing your lacy panties, he presses you down now, your breasts on the table, he’s kissing a trail between your shoulder blades.

“Mmm… Toru please touch me.”

“Not yet, patience, remember?”

“Fuck that- ow!” He smacks your backside, making you tremble at how good it feels, eyes fluttering shut when he grabs your ass now instead.

“You know I will still be your professor next semester, expect me to take it easy on you?” He smacks your other cheek now, and your thighs are trembling.

“Well, yes! I’m pregnant with your little baby lawyer!”

“No exceptions or favoritism in my class.” He says, acting so stern, you can’t take how sexy his voice is.

“But you’ll beat my ass, Professor!?”

“It looks so pretty with my hand prints.” He smacks each cheek again, stinging and burning, his free hand now sliding up your spine, entangling in your hair and pulling, you’re soaking wet against your panties, craving his touch. “Aw, you’re so, so eager, aren’t you baby?”

“You’re a tease, Satoru Gojo.” You whine out, earning that sexy chuckle. “I’m hornier more than ever.”

“I know, I love it. And so wet… oh fuck .” He’s rubbing you over your panties now, which are hopelessly soaked, wet spot soaking through. “You’re that wet?”

“Please, Toru…”

“Begging?”

“Mmhmm.” Is all you manage, normally you’d both play, a push and pull, tug of war of sorts, but you are needy for him, you’re clenching around nothing, wanting his fingers, his cock, wanting him .

“So easy for me?”

“Just for you.” You whisper, then he moans, and you hear his belt buckle, you arch up, earning another laugh.

“That easy!?”

“Put it in, please.” You are begging, pleading, arching your ass up, wanting more and more of his touch.

“Fuck…” Satoru is not one to just do that, he loves foreplay, but when he finds your dripping wet folds, pulling your panties to the side and rubbing, he’s moaning. “You’re stupid wet.”

“I know, I know. Please, just- ah!” Satoru slips his tip in barely, groaning as he feels you, you’re dripping all the way down to the kitchen tile, it’s so bad. You look back at him and watch his face contorted in pleasure, then your eyes roll back as his tip hits your clit, rubbing. “Mmm!”

Your clit is twitching under his tip, rubbing on it, and you’re just wetter and wetter, Satoru slides his cock up once more, coated in your slick now, pressing into your entrance, and you’re so ready you fall apart from his tip stretching you. Satoru is groaning, gripping your hips tightly, you’re nearly sobbing it’s so fucking good, when he presses further.

“Toru!”

“Oh my god… you’re so tight.” He whispers, sinking inside fully, so much pressure, you’re cumming then and there, and he stays there for a moment, unmoving, tense behind you. “You cummin already?”

“Fuck it, yes. More, please. Please .”

“Needy little brat.” He’s fucking into you now, tip dragging on your g spot, making you stupid, one hand back to pulling your hair, your thighs he spreads, to slide in with a long stroke once more, filling you so full.

You scream out now, hands gripping on the table as if it will tether you, but you’re falling apart under his strokes, getting wetter and wetter, walls clenching tightly around his cock. His balls are smacking your clit over and over, your ass is jiggling with every thrust of his pelvis, an ass he smacks again, stinging as the cool air above hits it, making you tighten around him more in response.

“Feel so fuckin good, baby girl. So good…” He huffs, slamming in and rolling his hips, tip grinding on your cervix, pulling you more until he has an entire arm wrapped around you.

“You feel s’good Toru…” You whisper back, then he’s flipping you, exhaling and kissing you deeply, you’re shivering when he sits you back on the table, sliding his cock back in, cupping your face with a free hand.

“Need to see your pretty face.” He whispers, and you shudder as he’s sinking deeper, clutching to his bare chest, kissing his lips softly, biting his plush lower lip, before your head falls back, and he’s kissing down your neck.

“Love you. Love you.” You whisper it over and over, now Satoru’s leaning over you, rolling his hips just the right way, until you unravel again for him, he presses every button, pulls every switch, he knows every bit of you. He has known you, the night you even met.

“I love you baby.” He whispers back, your lips slam together, tongues so messy, teeth clicking against each other as you feel his muscles ripple under your hands, as you feel his cock thickening. “Got you pregnant, hmm?”

“You did, you d-did…”

“Making you a mommy.” He murmurs, making your thighs tense around his hips, hands clutching in his silky white hair, desperately kissing him now.

“You did. You - ah - did!” You’re closer to the edge as your husband’s thickening now, throbbing in you, and your eyes lock, those glittering blue eyes that you could drown in for eternity, and never want to take a breath.

“Gonna fill you so good… f-fuck…” Satoru’s crying out right with you, his cock is pumping those ropes of cum inside your velvety walls, filling you so deep. You’re both drinking each others��� cries, moans, whispers, as you both come down, and you’re still feeling the aftershocks, pulsing his cum out down between you.

“Mmm… Toru…” You’re cock drunk, eyes fuzzy as he comes into focus, Satoru is stroking your hair, sighing, pecking little kisses all over your face now. “How is it even better than before?”

“I don’t know, it is though… you never could take me like that. You’re so slutty pregnant.”

“Slutty!” You glare, and he just laughs again, the sound filling you.

“Mmm, still just as tight, just sluttier.”

“Oh you- ah!” He pulls out of you then, picking you up carefully, bridal style, even after half a year of getting married, he likes to carry you to the room like this often, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

Marriage has been not without some trials, sometimes you both got on each other’s nerves, you had little debates and spats. Satoru was messy as fuck, and you didn’t like leaving a mess for the cleaners, he thinks that’s the job anyway, and just wants you to focus on school, or fucking him in every position possible. Or just wants you to look pretty when he gets home.

You are independent and strong willed, he knows you’ll never be his little housewife, and you know he really doesn’t want that, but he jokes all the time. He always pays for everything, and spoils you, buying too much jewelry, too many clothes, and any new gadget he thinks is cool, sometimes you have to take things back you don’t need, and earn his puppy dog eyes.

There are beautiful moments of being married to him, too, like having him constantly be there with you, hold you in his arms at night, and wake up to see his precious face next to yours. And the most beautiful moment so far, was when you all found out you’re having a baby, although you were on birth control, you both were surprised but then both of you had been elated.

You love the little peanut already, that’s what you all call them, they’re too tiny to know a sex yet, and they looked just like a peanut on that ultrasound. Satoru and you had it framed and sitting right on one of the dressers in what would soon be the baby’s nursery, you all have set up some of it already. It’s too early for all that truly, but Satoru got too excited.

And that’s the best part about Satoru, his excitement, his infectious happiness, in the face of anything, though he always shows you how he really feels, when he’s genuinely so happy, it radiates. He makes even the worst days so much better, massaging your back, buying your favorite cappuccino (decaf now, Satoru is reading too much about babies) or anything to comfort you.

And you comfort your husband, rubbing his neck after a long day, running him a bath and washing that silky white hair, bringing him his favorite drink after work. You both constantly read each other, it’s like you can feel what the other is feeling, a constant connection, a beautiful one.

“What are you thinking about, Miss Brat?” Satoru asks softly, he’s sat you on the edge of the sink, starting a hot shower, already steaming in the bathroom, the warm fog filling your lungs.

“How happy we are. How good this is. It feels like…”

“Perfect.”

“That.” He is between your thighs, cupping your face, your head falls back to look up at him. “It’s so perfect, us together.”

“And there are going to be three of us soon.” He murmurs, making you smile, looking down at your tummy, it’s a little poochy, perhaps only you and Satoru notice for now.

“A baby Gojo.” You whisper, smiling then, and he’s hugging you tightly, burying his face against your neck. “I want to be the best parent ever.”

“You will be.”

“And they’ll be… rich already. Holy shit.” You murmur, Satoru’s family had sent a cool five million for the baby, to have when they’re eighteen through a trust. Satoru had scoffed at it, but you did appreciate the gesture, of course Satoru had plenty of money, but your future baby Gojo could do a lot with that to start with.

“They did one decent thing, it’s still fuck them.”

You laugh then. “I’m still team fuck them.”

“Now… let’s shower, we have all weekend to relax.”

“You mean study your case!”

“Well that is relaxing for us.” You step into the hot shower now, head falling back when Satoru begins to suds up your hair, eyes shutting in bliss.

“I so love your hair washing skills.”

“Of course you do. I love washing your hair, little shnookums.” He kisses your forehead after he rinses the fragrant shampoo out, then it’s your turn, but of course he’s so tall he has to sit on the bench seat in the shower for you to wash his hair. “I’m so glad I fucking built this at the right height.”

He’s burying his face between your breasts now, making you giggle, as the hot water cascades down your back, easing stiff muscles. “I was curious that day when you told me to stand there.”

“Had to be at titty height.” You rinse his hair out now, before he stands, turning and sitting you on the new bench, a pretty black granite he’d recently installed. “I also had it made for…”

You hold your breasts together, and he slips his cock between them, already hard again, you whine out at it, at the sexy, lewd sight of his pretty pink tip pressing up between your lush breasts. “Fuck… that’s so…”

“Hot.” He finishes, whimpering out now, and you nod, looking up at him, holding your breasts together for him as he pumps, his free hand caressing your face. “God you’re so pretty .”

“You’re pretty.” He smirks down at you, now you’re spitting down his cock, making him lose it, he kneels once more, spreading your thighs right on the bench. “Aww look, she missed me.”

“You just fucked- ah!” You scream out when he’s lapping at your pussy, your head is resting back on the tile walls, his mouth devouring your pussy, blue eyes looking up at you, lashes dripping wet, water falling all over his perfect skin. “Toru…”

“Shh, let me and her talk. Rude.” You laugh but it’s cut off as he sucks your engorged little clit into his mouth, humming on it then, you’re gushing arousal all over his mouth, legs shaking violently, panting as it overtakes you. His hands glide down and up your slick thighs, fingers pressing in as he works you.

Your pussy is drooling down his mouth, he’s groaning as he keeps lapping at you, your screams echoing in the shower now. You’re starting to come down, so sensitive just his breath makes you jerk, and he relishes in it, in making you so weak and losing all your senses except how good he feels, how your entire body is just humming for him.

“You’re so yummy, Miss Brat.” Satoru slides back up, sitting on the bench with you now, pulling you into his lap. You look at him, grinding against his length. “Look at you, such a mess.”

“You make me that way.” Your words damn near slur, the heat of the shower, the orgasms, Satoru himself sapping it all from you.

“I love this bench.” You smile just a bit at his enthusiasm.

“You’re so cute- ah!”

“Cute, huh?” He’s shoved his full eight plus inches so deep in your pussy, grabbing your ass and slamming you down his length, stuffing you so full.

“Toru, fuck !”

“Not so cute, now. Aww, poor baby can’t take dick?” You glare, earning his grin, positioning your knees on either side, clinging to his back with your fingers, slipping and sliding, and lifting yourself, breasts pressed against his chest.

“Give it to me, Professor.” You whisper, only for him to pick you up then, pressing your back against the shower wall, fucking into you so deep it hurts, but it hurts so fucking good you’re falling apart in his grasp.

“Bratty, slutty student.” He huffs, shoving up, your thighs clinging to his slender hips as he pumps into your eager little pussy.

“I’m a… good student… fuck, fuck, fuck!” He bites the fuck out of your neck now, with those sharp teeth, you gasp as your pussy is clenching around him.

“A good girl, are you?”

“Yes!” You breathe out, between pumps.

“Mmm… you feel good, but I don’t know. Should I let you cum?”

“Please!”

“Since you asked so sweetly.” He pulls back his head, shoving his cock inside you, watching you, studying you, your eyes flutter shut as you’re about to cum once more, but he grabs your chin. “No, look at me.”

So you do, you struggle to keep those eyes open, looking at him as you’re cumming even harder than before, so hard you’re crying, tears slipping down your cheeks. “T-Toru…”

“Aw, you crying?” You just nod weakly, moaning out, and then he’s pulsing inside you. “So fucking pretty crying for me, too.”

He busts inside you now, groaning as he finds his release, clinging to your body, crying out, filling you up so full. “Yes, yes… fill me.”

“Two loads already, so slutty.”

“You… you’re slutty.” You manage, both of you laughing then, he eases you down on wobbly legs now, holding you by your hips.

“And you’re weak.”

“Fuck you!”

“I just did.”

“Sure did.” You’re grinning, and you both laugh, before you kiss each other, and clean up further.

Later on, you both are having dinner, while Satoru has his next case sprawled all over the table. You both snuggle up next to each other on the couch as he spreads files, pictures, and notes out on the table, nibbling on take out together, the white boxes and little red symbols and chopsticks, no dishes for you all. You look over the glossy eight by ten photos as you nibble on your rice.

“She was my age, fuck.” You say softly, as you look at the picture now, she was a pretty young woman, a young environmental activist as well.

“The worst part, she had a kid.” You sigh, putting the food down, and touching your tummy without thinking, and Satoru wraps an arm around you, protective and strong. “I know, baby.”

“Fuck… so the suspect is this guy?” You tap a nice looking guy with glasses.

“Mmm, yeah but I don’t know if I should buy it.”

“You think he’s a scapegoat?”

“Sure the fuck do.”

“So who are the suspects?”

“Him, him and him. They’re all super corporate, rich as fuck, whereas the guy I’m representing is Pro Bono, so he’s…”

“Not wealthy at all.” You finish.

“Exactly, they wanna pin this shit on him. This is something on the higher ups, too.” The distaste is apparent in Satoru’s voice. You snuggle to him now, and he brushes your hair back, kissing your forehead gently.

“We’ll help them, if he’s wrongly convicted, you’re the best defense attorney there fucking is.”

“And you’re going to be the best prosecutor there is.”

“Imagine us going against each other!?” He laughs then, shaking his head at you. “Bet I’d kick your ass.”

“Nah, I’d win.”

“Whatever!” You both pour over more of the documents together, it’s been a while since you could help with a case with school, but the break will be so lovely, so much time spent with your husband. “I’d win.”

“You wish, little brat. Damn, our baby is gonna be a menace.” He says, smirking, and you grin so big, images flitting through your mind.

“The most competitive lawyer ever!”

You both laugh then, eventually setting aside the evidence, Satoru is putting on a movie, but you’re not paying much attention, starting to feel sleep tug at you. You’re yawning, and Satoru is stroking your waist gently, you snuggle even deeper against his hard body, letting the warmth sink in.

“You’re always sleepy now. Can’t make it past a trailer.” He teases, you sigh, hiding another yawn.

“It’s the baby I think. It’s like sucking all my energy.”

“Gonna be a six foot tall kid.”

“Let’s hope they take after the shorter side of this family!” His shoulders shake with his laughter.

“Ugh, family though.” He says softly.

“Family.” You repeat lovingly, cupping his face and looking up at him. “Let us get some rest, we can study more tomorrow.”

“You wanna cuddle, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Anything for you, Shnookums.” Satoru carries you to the bed. “Spoiled, lazy little thing.”

“You spoil me on purpose.” You snatch his best pillow with a wicked grin, earning his narrowed eyes.

“I’ll tickle you to death.”

“No! Fine, we’ll share then, meanie.” He snuggles behind you, long limbs taking over much of the bed, even as big as it is, wrapping around you tightly. You feel such peace, so comfortable, you can barely hold your eyes open for another minute.

“You’re like a little old lady, always crashing out. Drooling.” He says then, stroking your tummy gently, he’s been doing it since he found out. Your hand joins over his own, looking back at him over your shoulder.

“I’m too comfy, your fault.”

“Is it now?”

“Admit your guilt.” He’s grinning, you’re trying to keep your eyes open, but Satoru feels too heavenly.

“I admit no fault, brat.”

“Mmm… contempt of my court.”

“You’re silly. Go to sleep.” You both smile against each other’s lips, and you fall fast asleep, dreaming about this baby on the way, dreaming of Satoru holding a baby in his arms, and the love in your heart, like you’ll burst.

Satoru studies the smile on your sleepy face, wondering just what it is his pretty student thinks of, before burying his face against your neck, and falling fast asleep, where he feels so damn good, with you in his arms.

Taglist: @jjknanamin @chiyokoemilia @marie-is-in-the-dark @seeing-stars-alt @maskedpacific @aldebrana @toffeebrat @antisocialinlw @trishiepo0 @jkslaugh97 @makingtimemine 

One more!! omggg

[tieflingkisser]

“I Have Lost Everything”: In Federal Court, Palestinians Accuse Biden of Complicity in Genocide

Bolstered by a momentous ICJ ruling, Palestinians, including Americans, gave three hours of testimony against the Biden administration.

In a momentous day for the quest to keep Israel and its allies accountable for its brutal war on Gaza, members of leading Palestinian human rights groups, residents of Gaza, and Palestinian Americans argued in a U.S. District Court on Friday that the Biden administration should halt its financial and military support for Israel and uphold its obligations to prevent genocide. The arguments came in a lawsuitOpens in a new tab that the Center for Constitutional Rights, or CCR, filed in November against President Joe Biden, Secretary of State Antony Blinken, and Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin, charging them with complicity and failure to prevent the “unfolding genocide” in the occupied strip. Testifying either in person at the Oakland, California, courthouse or remotely from Palestine, the plaintiffs spoke for nearly three hours about the deliberate devastation wrought by Israel in the aftermath of the October 7 Hamas attacks.  The hearing commenced hours after the International Court of Justice in The Hague found that it’s plausible that Israel has committed acts of genocide in Gaza, in a case brought by South Africa. While the United Nations court fell short of ordering an immediate ceasefire, a panel of judges delivered a historic set of rulings and denied Israel’s request to dismiss the case. A final resolution in that case is expected to take years. Lawyers involved with the lawsuit playing out in federal court said that the ICJ ruling bolsters their case. Their lawsuit argues that Biden, Blinken, and Austin are liable under U.S. lawOpens in a new tab for failing to uphold their obligation to prevent genocide in Gaza. In Oakland, dozens of people lined up outside the courthouse hours before the hearing on Friday, according to organizers on the ground, while the Zoom stream reached its capacity of 1,000 people tuning in.

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒊𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕

chapter IV of and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest

Pairing: Teenage!Arlecchino x gn!Teenage!Reader

Genres: angst, light hurt/comfort, politics & law, friends to lovers

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: themes of corruption and crime, violence, graphic depictions of murder, blood, mild angst

1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6 | epilogue

~~~

The near-silence of the market square left a foreboding sensation on the back of your neck. Signs of dark shades broadcasted closed, a stark contrast to your previous visit. The reason for it was not unbeknownst to you however, as word of a protest at Place des Marées had haunted you since you left the orphanage with Manon just an hour earlier.

Things had changed in Fontaine during the last three weeks, and whether they were for better or worse had yet to be seen. Civil unrest had risen, and citizens were making their thoughts known to the establishments of justice here in the capital. Whispers of reconnaissance by the court and hidden resistances had circulated the streets; there was no doubt that both were watching.

Although part of you felt trepidation at the uprising, another part of you was eager to witness it.

With this in mind, you said, “There is practically no point in shopping today, we might as well leave.”

Manon huffed and stopped walking, her long dark coat hitting the back of her calves abruptly. “I suppose so.”

You crossed the small cobblestone street and took her hand in yours. You could tell there was a keen glint in your eye, causing your partner to raise her eyebrow.

“Would you take note of the open shops? We will stop and buy what we can before going back to the orphanage, but for now, I’d like to join those at the Place des Marées.”

“Of course, boss.” she teased, “And we will keep half of the money for ourselves, too.”

“Of course, boss.” you reiterated with a joyful smirk, enjoying the brief moment.

“We can’t both be in charge, __.” she quipped, reciprocating your expression though to a lesser degree.

“Maybe so, but do you expect for me to just let you be the boss?”

“No, but I do expect for you to give in to my demands.”

With a small huff, you shook your head and rounded a corner.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she smirked, causing heat to rise to your cheeks as you continued walking to the Place des Marées.

—

Any light-hearted atmosphere dissipated once you arrived at the square. A large crowd of people were dispersed around the area, some standing or sitting, and others shouting or holding a sign. Cries for those falsely convicted, those unfairly sentenced, those without proper representation, and those given no trial to receive freedom and rightful justice rang out through the citizens. Officers sat at the ready in front of the courthouse and around the crowd.

The various shades of grey in the sky rumbled, but no one seemed to mind.

You weaved through the crowd with Manon's hand still in yours, trying to get to the center of it all.

The middle of the square housed a large gold statue of the current chief justice. His stoic countenance looked down on the citizens from his large booth, creating a feeling of disdain in your chest.

"How long have you been here?" you asked someone sitting on the stone base circle of the statue's planter box.

"About 2 hours, but over half of the people have been here for 3."

"I see. Thank you."

There was no doubt that by the fourth hour, the number of enforcements would have doubled.

Manon tugged on your hand, bringing your gaze back to her fiery eyes. Her sharp, angled pupils appeared like lines of fresh lava across hardened rock, making your previous trepidation vanish upon seeing her determination. She released your hand before climbing up onto the stone planter box and reaching out for you. You took her hand once more and let her aid in bringing you up to her side. The motions repeated, and you felt eyes boring into your back as you stood on the statue's lap beside Manon.

From where you stood you could see out across the entire square, and you wondered if Neuvillette’s eyes could see the entire city from where he gazed.

“May I please have your attention!” Manon demanded, immediately sending thousands of eyes her way.

Your eyes were torn between her and the audience, but you felt it best to observe her spectacle.

"People of Fontaine! We have felt the repercussions of the unjust actions of those leading us for far too long. Every single one of you standing here now is here because your life has been altered due to this. The crimes of people like him," she began, pointing up to the chief justice's face, "have proceeded to shed our blood and trap us in cells, factories, or filth, while newspapers are given false reports or bought off. Our archon treats us like toys – as if we are not beings but puppets, existing simply for her hedonistic ends. Enough is enough! There is no need for such fault and fodder anymore if it can only exist like this!"

Cheers and shouts of support sounded from below you as Manon grabbed your hand and sent a solid, affirming gaze your way – the blaze of fury in her eyes bright as ever.

You turned to the expectant crowd, lifting your joint hands and shouting, "May today mark the beginning of the end of our plight! Vive la révolution!"

Thunder clapped once more and rain began falling. Citizens reciprocated the action as officers closed in, their numbers increased just as you had thought. It seemed time was up. Reporters and spies finished their duties before leaving the square in conspicuous and inconspicuous ways. The details of the scene faded as proud and emboldened shades of black and red came into view once more.

Manon was something secure amidst the instability of the nation's climates – her never-ending drive infectious and her leadership inspiring. You couldn't help but wonder just how influential she could become.

—

The bright aureate rays of the sunset sent a golden glow across the many dirtied fruits sprawling out from your heavy wicker basket, laying tipped over and rocking lightly back and forth. Your feet pounded against the cobblestone, worry falling on your features as Manon raced ahead of you. She had voiced suspicions about the atmosphere surrounding the orphanage, and as you got closer she appeared more on edge, sending a nervous feeling into your stomach.

The front door was left slightly ajar, and Manon had swung it fully open, rushing into the entryway. Her head shifted in multiple directions before she turned halfway back to you.

The building was oddly silent. There was no trace of any person, the children's belongings organized about now gone. All that remained were the director's decorations. It was unnerving – the stark difference in the building when all of the kids were gone.

Light heeled footsteps echoed down the main hall as a figure in a blue and white frilled dress entered your view.

"What happened here?" Manon asked the director, looking over at her with accusation.

“Le Commerce Quinquennal.” Vivienne replied simply, walking between you both to the large mahogany door. 

“What is that?” you questioned, turning around to watch the director’s precise movements.

“Something neither of you will ever have to worry about,” she said, leveling her gaze with yours. “Now please… go pick up that poor produce and bring it to the kitchen for me.”

You watched her as you walked out of the door, blood thrumming through your veins. You heard Manon’s sharp voice interrogate the director, but her avoidant quips in response were quickly ending the conversation.

As you picked up the dusty fruits and vegetables, you started formulating a plan to discover what this orphanage was.

—

Low light cast dubious shadows over the light blue walls of the main hall. Vivienne’s office sat at the end, the dark door ominous. Her bedroom was only one room down from where you stayed with Manon, both of them on opposite sides in the middle of the long hall.

After discussing your ideas with Manon the previous night, you were ready to move forward with what you concurred was the best current option.

Investigating the Director’s office.

You stepped out into the hall first, facing her tall door and the light still peeking out from beneath it. Keeping your breath low and footsteps light, you walked along the wall to her door before beckoning Manon to follow. You pulled out a spare bobby pin you had found in the bedroom – it would be simple enough to pick an inside door. You had done it plenty of times before.

After inserting the pin into the lock, you heard the sharp click that signified the door was unlocked. You looked behind you at Manon and nodded quickly before gazing behind her at Vivienne’s door.

Still closed.

You rapidly opened the door before shutting and locking it quietly behind you both.

~

Manon remained silent as she walked directly to the director’s desk, sorting through the papers neatly stacked on top of it. You stood watch by the door, yet still attempted to sort through her nearby bookshelf to see if you could find anything of note. She had been in this room a few times before, the first being when she initially arrived. You put her in charge of investigating the areas that were likely to contain the most answers due to that.

The only papers on the surface that could hold any meaning were the orphanage’s funds. Since you were visiting the market today, it was likely that Vivienne wanted to review what the establishment had. What piqued Manon’s interest the most were the payments deposited into the funds and occasionally to Vivienne herself. They were from a person marked as nothing but Captain, with a few from the Jester. They were simple titles, but they sparked an out-of-place remembrance.

“Have you ever heard of the Captain or the Jester?” she asked you with a whisper.

You looked at her quizzically, but there was a hint of familiarity in your eyes that she could see even in the dim light.

“No,” you replied with a slight shake of your head, turning back to go through the books once more.

It was a lie, but she was unsure of your motives to do so.

She placed the book of finances down, moving onto the large drawers along the sides of the desk. She pulled out the first, unveiling labeled manilas of the orphanage’s past deals and business. There was a file longly marked SN-F. LCQ. CoF-OdlFS. Manon knew what the abbreviations meant.

Upon setting the file on the desk’s surface and opening it, she was greeted by papers, contracts, and court reports showing a history of scheming since the orphanage was created.

Snezhnaya had an agreement with Fontaine that laid out the formation of Le Commerce Quinquennal. Factories would be established in Snezhnaya that would allow for Fontaine to use a portion of the nation’s resources for their own gain while sending “convicts” to the factories as workers. In turn, Orphelinat de la Fleuve Sinueux would be established in Fontaine for Snezhnaya among a couple of other orphanages. Children would be purposefully sent to them to be taken care of and raised while gaining life experience. Every five years, the children from the orphanage would be exchanged with Snezhnaya for a select group of workers equal in number to the group of children.

Manon’s thoughts were racing as she quickly gathered the information and placed it back into its spot in the drawer. She closed it and leaned down to open the second, her nerves on edge.

“We’re still clear,” you spoke, picking up on her growing stress.

She ignored you as she looked over the files, seeing both yours and hers with the rest of the children’s. In a moment of impaired judgment, she removed your file and opened it on Vivienne’s chair. She already knew things from your past, but she did not expect to find what she did.

Your father was an agent for the Fatui who would monitor their port deliveries and dealings along the Côte des Pêcheurs, making him the one locally in charge of the eastern coastal regions.

Manon looked up and made eye contact with you.

Light steps could be heard approaching the room.

Her mind was jumbled, but she still shoved your file back into the drawer before securing the organization of the desk and taking your hand. She brought you behind the couch to hide, taking the safer precaution than hiding behind Vivienne’s desk.

The sound of a key turning and the door opening filled her with an uncomfortable fear.

The older woman huffed as she approached her desk, retrieving the finance book and one of her pens, as well as a small stack of papers. She looked out at the room with a focus on the fireplace.

"Furina and her contumelious remarks," the director uttered, "When will she simply let me be."

Manon's eyebrows furrowed as she heard Vivienne's statement. Perhaps the archon and the director were on worse terms than she suspected.

As the door latched shut, Manon listened to the receding echo of footsteps and lightly shook her head.

She leveled her gaze with yours, noticing the odd appearance of fight in your eyes.

"We have to escape – now or never." you voiced, something unnerving now swimming in your glossy eyes.

"I agree," Manon responded, observing the rise of derangement in your demeanor. It seemed that she was not the only one who had made a shocking and terrible discovery.

—

The murky night was hardly visible through the glared glass of the train car.

Your escape was successful, but it was only the beginning of your journey. Gathering your belongings and sneaking out of the orphanage was simple, but navigating the dark alleyways to the train station was tedious. Luckily, you were skilled in avoiding officers.

The train station was hesitant to provide you and Manon with tickets on a midnight car, but with a few extra dollars, they did not bat an eye. Neither did the conductor or the attendants, who should have noticed you after the speech at the square the previous day.

Most of the city did, you realized, as those not in attendance would have seen newspapers headlined ‘Les Fous Perfides', Marie Donnadieu and __ __, call for revolution at Place des Marées protest, just as you did on your trek here.

The smooth movements of dark water rested underneath the sturdy glass floor of the train car as it ran along the eastbound aqueduct. You were returning to the Côte des Pêcheurs in order to find a fisherman or travel boat that would take you across the Mer Glacée to the Vetreny Port in Snezhnaya.

—

As you exit the train car and descended the stone steps, you came face to face with your hometown, Mélodie des Vagues. Your family had a mixed reputation here, with some people thinking well of your parents and others terribly. You took Manon’s hand as you walked the familiar streets, being reminded of the past at every turn. Some shopkeepers and Fatui agents gave you welcoming smiles in hope of a word or two, but your steeled gaze kept them away. While you usually would have felt guilty for the needless abrasiveness, you had a goal in mind that was on limited time.

You knew Manon could perceive the situation well from beside you, but you had to bury your doubts and fears of her questioning more about your background. 

The longer you spent in the town, the more danger you were in.

You couldn’t share everything with Manon, even if you wanted to. The secrets of your family were to be taken to the grave, especially after your mother’s death.

Vivienne knew half of them somehow, but with what you read in her diary, you could tell she had some history with your parents. Why she never gave you any hint of your connection, you could not guess, but from what you read and knew of her, she was an expert in facade.

You were not far from the dock by now – all you needed to find was someone who would bring you to the land of eternal winter. You stopped to ask a few people sitting along crates, but they would not be loading up and leaving until sunrise, something that was still two hours away. That would be far too long to wait.

There was a sign propped up nearby showing the times of arrival and departure for passenger ships, but one would not be arriving for three hours, and the other would not be departing until noon.

With no other people close to their ships or you, you decided to ask an angler sorting through their supplies if they could take you to Snezhnaya. They said yes, and that they would be leaving with their crew in fifteen minutes.

It was your only option.

You heard nothing from Manon beside you, and looking at her features you could see a storm brewing.

Bringing one of your hands to cup her cheek, you rubbed your thumb over the arch.

“Speak your mind, Manon,” you whispered.

She looked apprehensive, yet still brought her hand to rest over your wrist before sighing in reluctance.

“I have discovered many unpleasant things tonight, and I am simply trying to sort through them all, ma lumière.”

You hummed, “So have I. When we leave this place, we will have all of the time in the world to figure it out together.”

“I suppose so.” she voiced with a small smile, rubbing her own thumb over the prominent veins of your wrist.

You watched as her eyes softened slightly, before moving over your shoulder and instantly hardening.

You raised an eyebrow and turned your head to follow her line of sight. Waiting for you was a tall figure wrapped in a dark coat with a hand resting heavily on a silver-laced cane. One of their eyes was scarred in a manner that was all too familiar to you.

“What do you want, Henri?” you asked him sternly.

“You know why I am here, __.” he replied, taking a step forward.

Manon brought her arm in front of you, trying to shield you from the threat. You pushed her arm down and took another step forward to match his.

“The death of your father had nothing to do with me. That was simply the business between our parents and you know this.”

“Yet their business still became ours didn’t it?” they queried, tilting their head. “If it were not for your petty little siren tricks, I would not still be facing the difficulties that I am now.”

“Your self-hatred has never been an issue involving me. The only reason you are facing these difficulties is because you attacked me years ago with this same belief.”

He took another step forward. “Where’s your brother, __? Did he finally leave you too?”

Manon tugged you back to her.

“You’re well connected, Henri, you should know.”

He chuckled dryly before standing taller. Within one swift movement, he had pulled a pistol of pyro from his coat and shot it straight through your heart.

~

Manon watched wide-eyed as you fell to your knees on the damp dock. The nearby citizens were panicked, but some were too afraid to move. She assumed this show of violence was not an uncommon occurrence here.

“The siren’s one weakness – fire straight into a heart of water.” Henri whispered as they turned and began fleeing the scene.

Manon was shocked by the news of your nature, and increasingly worried about your health as she knew very little of what one would need to recover from such a drastic injury. All that Atlas had ever taught her about the species was that although they had blood, it was severely watered down due to the fact that the chambers of their heart were created from the sea.

“What do you need?” she questioned, hands moving over you unceremoniously.

You grasped at your throat and chest, almost unable to speak. ��End… him…” you voiced dryly.

Manon shook her head, “I’m not leaving you here.”

You moved a hand to her shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your gaze met hers, and she instantly felt compelled to hear your every word.

“Go,” you said sadly.

She did.

Henri had not gotten very far, at least for the speed at which Manon was silently traveling. She grasped his shoulder and threw them into the nearest alley. His body landed with a thump, their cane rolling into another metallic object obscured in darkness. She heard none of their words as she began tearing at his face, leaving shreds of bloodied and burnt flesh on the stone ground. Their screams were soon silenced as Manon made her way down his body, blindly and furiedly completing the task she was given. It had been years since she last treated someone this way, but a part of her deep inside missed the thrill and brutality of it.

No one came searching for him, or to investigate the situation.

~

Manon returned to the dock, blood dripping from her clawed fingertips and her clothes. Sinew was stuck under her fingernails, and parts of her coat were burned.

None of it mattered to her, though, as you were not there waiting for her at the dock. In fact, there was no one remaining.

She ran through nearby buildings, gaining many stares as she did so. She tore through supplies and crates with no regard for the property. She looked over the docked ships, but still to no avail.

Finally, she looked down into the water that now began to lighten with the blossoming sunrise. Tears began to rise in her eyes for the first time in a month, her mind reeling from the day and her heart aching.

You were either dead or gone. And she failed to protect you or help you when you needed it most.

But why would you send her away? Was it all a lie? Or were you afraid of her realizing the reality of your life?

None of it mattered to her anymore. All she wanted was to find you again.

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, Chapter 21: The Survivors

Also posted on AO3 here!

Holy shit yall, there's only one chapter left after this. I'm gonna lose my mind. hope you're still having fun <3

☆☆☆

The courthouse that the united government of Vulcan had deemed fit to loan Starfleet for the court-martial was part of an enormous sandstone complex in the center of ShiKahr. Kirk stood outside of it, early enough in the morning that the silver nightbirds still called to each other and the heat had yet to tighten its stranglehold, and knotted his fingers in an angry tangle behind his back.

His dress uniform felt ill-fitting; his body had not changed since the last time he had worn it, but he had. He compulsively smoothed his badges down once more to feel that they were still in their proper places. 

Spock looked over at the movement, and leaned closer, so that his shoulder pressed against Kirk’s, the drapery of his civilian robes wavering between them. Counselor Ketoul stood at his other side, as stalwart as a general, and together the three of them and the Vulcan judicial clerk who had shown them here awaited the arrival of the prosecution and the panel that would determine Kirk’s fate.

They did not wait long. The panel arrived in a swish of robes and the general air of importance. There was Admiral Morrow, a man Kirk had met a few times at ceremonial functions and tended to think highly of; one of the chief justices of Vulcan, T’Lona, a stern and angular woman; and Admiral Drake, a woman Kirk had only seen in holos and knew only that she had been promoted during the war. Kirk met each of their eyes and nodded politely. From around a large doorway came the last of their retinue for that day, as the witnesses would not be called until after opening remarks and testimonies: the prosecution. Admiral April was tall and stoic, face impassive and revealing none of the stress that it had the last time Kirk had seen him, in the dark underbelly of the 31 ship. Next to him was a tall, blonde, slender woman that Kirk recognized immediately. His eyebrows flew up. 

Areel Shaw spoke first. She greeted everyone by name as the Vulcan clerk led them into the dark and waiting room, and as Kirk passed her, she said, “It’s good to see you again, Captain Kirk.” He flashed her an uneasy grin. 

“You as well, Counselor Shaw—but I wish we’d stop meeting like this.” She grimaced at him sympathetically before dropping back to walk next to Ketoul.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Ketoul said. “Do you come here often?”

“I was surprised to see your name on the docket, Neera. Court-martials aren’t usually your style.”

“No,” Ketoul agreed. “They aren’t.” 

Spock halted by the door, and brushed his fingers against Kirk’s in one last stolen kiss. He was integral to everything that had happened, to all that Kirk was and had become--- and yet, because he was only acting as a witness, he would not be allowed to participate that morning. Kirk met his eyes. The variegated brown of his eyes caught the early morning sunlight, and in them Kirk could see his surety and cool control--- and his love. He pressed his fingers to Spock’s once more and then let the door swing shut behind him.

The courtroom they were in was intimidatingly large, clearly built for a much more populous audience—but with the trial closed to the public, the list of witnesses would barely fill the first row of seats. The panel was seated at a long table at the front of the room, and across from it were two shorter tables: one for Kirk and Ketoul, one for Shaw and April. There was one imposingly austere chair catty-corner to the tables; it would be for the witnesses, seated where they could address both panel and counsel. 

Kirk swallowed hard. The quiet shuffle of their feet and clothing, the murmured conversation of the Vulcan clerk and the panel ahead, were swallowed entirely by the abnormal acoustics of the hall. His ears rang with the silence. 

The clerk wasted no time installing the three honored guests at the front table, gracefully gesturing the prosecution and the defense to their places. Then he took an unobtrusive position near the exit, and Morrow stood. 

“All rise,” he said, and the small group present came to their feet. He looked around, eyes settling uncomfortably on Kirk and April, before he said, “Thus begins the court-martial of Captain James T. Kirk, of the USS Enterprise, charged by Admiral Robert April with the crimes of disobedience of a superior officer, assault and battery of a Starfleet advisor, and refusal of a legitimate order of transfer without grounds. How do you plead?” 

He looked directly at Kirk, not Ketoul. Kirk said, voice rough, “Not guilty.” 

“Your plea is noted,” Morrow said. “Counselor Shaw, you and your client may present your opening remarks.” Areel stood and paced to the center of the room. 

“Admiral Morrow, Admiral Drake, and Justice T’Lona, I thank you for your presence. I hope that you will hear our evidence, and the logic of Admiral April’s decisions, and come to a just decision.” It seemed heavy-handed to Kirk to invoke logic in her opening salvo, but he couldn’t blame her for going straight for the wildcard in the panel. 

“Captain James Kirk has served the Federation honorably for many years, and is known for his creative and unusual style, but he has finally gone a step too far. He may love being captain, and he may love the Enterprise, but the chain of command and the integrity of the service must be preserved. Though he may not have wanted to give up command of the Enterprise to obey the orders of Admiral April, it was his duty to do so--- a duty that he refused to discharge. Then, rather than remain and explain what had occurred, if he had truly seen a reason to refuse, he ran to Vulcan to avoid the consequences of his rash actions. I ask the panel to charge him guilty on these counts, and hand down punishment as it sees fit. If any captain were able to ignore the orders of the flag officers, for whatever reasons they desired, Starfleet’s integrity would crumble.” She stood proudly before the panel, her voice bouncing off the rock walls and making it sound as though she were standing right in front of Kirk. She looked evenly between each of the panelists. He ran, repeated a cruel little voice in the back of his head. Like a coward. He tried to ignore the voice. He had done the best he could with what he had at the time.

Areel turned and raised one hand to April. “Admiral?” April stood, bracing himself on the table with both hands. 

“This is an open and shut court-martial,” he said. His voice was gravel. All the exhaustion that had been wiped from his face was apparent in his voice. “Captain Kirk may find the secrecy and shadow work of Section 31 to be distasteful, but his skills are too valuable to the security of the Federation and all the planets that comprise it to be wasted on exploration. We needed, and need, his ability to think laterally. Someday it may be the difference between peace and war. He refused an order of transfer, to the detriment of our common cause and for his own purposes, and broke numerous other rules to do so. I ask that you find him guilty, and, rather than lose his skills to a rehabilitation colony, consider his punishment to be transfer to Section 31, effective immediately and for the rest of his career.” April slowly sat back down, hands still on the table in front of him. 

Areel turned back to the panel as Kirk silently gagged in nauseated horror. 

“The prosecution rests,” she said, and she took her seat. The faces of the panelists were unchanged; Justice T’Lona perfectly Vulcan and the two human admirals stonily concerned. 

“Counselor Ketoul, you and your client may present your remarks,” Morrow said. Ketoul stood and strode to the center of the room. Her heels clacked assertively on the stone floor, but the echoes were eaten by the acoustics.

“Honored panelists,” she said. She inclined her head politely to each admiral, and raised an elegant ta’al to the chief justice. Score one for Ketoul, Kirk thought. “I thank you for hearing us, and I am confident that together we will find the truth, and justice in its shadow. Captain Kirk, as stated, will plead not guilty. 

“This is not because he did not disobey Admiral April’s orders; we do not contest that this occurred. Instead, Captain Kirk is not guilty because Federation law and Starfleet regulation supersede any and all commands given, and to agree to serve Section 31 would be to agree to break Federation law as a matter of course. Captain Kirk refused the transfer of command because he is an honorable and trustworthy Starfleet officer, and a faithful citizen of the Federation.” One of Morrow’s eyebrows crept slowly up his face as Ketoul spoke. Drake frowned. T’Lona remained unmoved. 

“As submitted in response to the summons to trial, Captain Kirk will countersue, on the grounds that Section 31 has been breaking Federation law and Starfleet regulation for at least twenty years. I turn now to the captain, who can provide more illumination on the scale of criminal conduct.” She turned to Kirk, and he straightened under her burning gaze. He knew what was coming. He could do this. 

“Captain Kirk, when you arrived on Kindinos VI, you, Admiral April, and your first officer, Commander Spock, discovered a tunnel system beneath the largest home on the planet. What did you find in the tunnel?” 

“Section 31 had beaten us there,” Kirk said. “They were removing the dilithium that had already been mined.”

“Dilithium is critical to the propulsion system of a starship, correct?” 

“That’s right.”

“So it’s an important resource.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So what’s wrong with Section 31 removing the dilithium after the mine ceased operations?”

“As a matter of course, nothing. But the Enterprise had received a distress signal on an open channel about ten hours prior. We warped to Kindinos VI earlier than scheduled because of it. And we did find the miners and were able to rescue almost all of them. So 31’s presence meant one of two things. Either they missed the distress call and didn’t search for survivors upon arrival, or they heard it and ignored it to prioritize the dilithium. Both break one of the most basic tenets of Starfleet regulation.”

Ketoul’s eyes flashed as she turned back to the panel. “And what tenet is that?”

“Sentient life over resources. Always.” 

Ketoul let his statement float in the chamber for a moment before moving on. “In preparation for this case, I searched for any and all public information on Section 31– and there’s very little. For obvious reasons, nearly all of its work is classified--- even within Starfleet they are an enigma. I was not able to find a single public image or description of their uniforms. How did you recognize them?” 

“I had seen their uniforms before, a long time ago.” 

“When did you first encounter Section 31, Captain Kirk?”

Kirk swallowed hard and said, hands clenched in his lap, “When they extracted Governor Kodos from Tarsus IV after the massacre.”

Morrow’s padd hit the table with a sharp clack. Ketoul clasped her hands behind her back and said, “Section 31 has dogged the steps of Captain Kirk since he was a child, breaking Federation civil rights law and Starfleet regulation to keep him and the other Tarsus survivors silent. Captain Kirk refused the transfer order because he knew exactly the types of decisions he would be asked to make if he were to take command there. We charge Section 31 with obstruction of justice, attempted creation of a biological weapon, attempted extrajudicial killing, and three violations of the highest order of the Federation constitution: the rights to one’s life, one’s family, and one’s mind--- and these are only the charges that Captain Kirk personally witnessed. I ask that you find Captain Kirk not guilty, and instead use this case as an opportunity to remove the shroud of secrecy from this department and align Starfleet once more with the values upon which it was founded.”

If Kirk thought the justice’s face had been blank before, he was wrong: it was a ceramic mask now. The lines between Drake’s eyebrows had deepened, and she was frowning, hunched over her padd. Morrow stared at Ketoul like she had grown a second head before his eyes flicked to Kirk. 

“You were on Tarsus?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You’re trying to connect something that happened twenty years ago to your disobedience charge?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Morrow sat back and wiped a hand across his face. “And you’re charging Admiral Robert April with these crimes?”

“If he is fit to stand trial, yes,” Ketoul said easily. April’s eyes snapped to her, narrowing as she continued, “As he brought the charges against Kirk, he must be the defendant in the countersuit.” 

“Yes,” Morrow said, half under his breath. He looked down at the padd again. “And your witnesses, Counselor Ketoul?” 

“Captain Kirk, first. The rest of the Tarsus survivors,” she said. “Captain Kirk’s first officer and husband. His chief medical officer. And his therapist from his time at the Academy.” 

Morrow set the padd down and placed his hand on top of it. “Section 31 is a hugely valuable research organization, with an enormous role in the public safety of the Federation. I must say, Counselor, this is a hell of an accusation.”

“It’s a hell of a crime,” she said. She bore his scrunity for five seconds, ten--- 

He sighed heavily. “Your countersuit is accepted. Counselor Shaw, you may proceed with testimony.” Areel stood, shaking her shoulders back, stalking to the center of the room to meet Ketoul. 

“In light of the gravity of the charges against us, I request the right to call additional witnesses.” 

“Request granted, Counselor,” Morrow said. “If they need time for travel, or dispensation to call over subspace, it will be allowed.” 

“Thank you,” she said, nose in the air, as Ketoul took her seat again by Kirk’s side. She caught his eye out of the corner of hers and gave a tiny nod. They were over the first hurdle. Areel said, “I call Admiral April to the stand.” April stood and crossed to the witness’s seat, seating himself heavily into the upright and austere chair. 

“Admiral April, place your hand upon your heart. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as an officer of Starfleet and a citizen of the Federation?” 

“I do.” 

“Admiral, will you please state your name and tell the panel what occurred between you and Captain Kirk on the Enterprise and on Kindinos VI?” 

“My name is Robert April,” he said. “I had originally traveled to the Enterprise with two goals: to convince Commander Spock to take his own command, and to ask Captain Kirk to join Section 31. Though they are married, I thought that Spock’s logic and Kirk’s sense of duty would at least provide me with the opportunity to explain the necessity of the request, and allow us to come to some sort of agreement. I had hoped for more time for that discussion, but the distress call from Kindinos preempted that. It was during the mission, however, that I began to have doubts about Kirk’s objectivity, and the reliability of that sense of duty.” Kirk’s blood boiled. So that would be April’s play: casting aspersions on his ability to lead, to ruin his reputation and then hide him away in 31’s clutches.

“He and Commander Spock both joined the away mission, though it was against regulation. The commander seemed comfortable in his explanation that the captain would attend for diplomacy’s sake, but it did not seem so square to me. What I learned, just in twenty-four hours on the ship, is that where the captain is, so too is the commander. And vice versa. Kirk should have remained on the ship; yet, because his husband was going, so was he.” Kirk ground his teeth.

“We transported down to the surface, and Kirk continued to choose remaining near the commander rather than tasking him with leading one of the security teams, as would have made more sense. I believe that he didn’t want to leave Spock alone with me, as I had not made a secret of the fact that I thought and think he is wasted as a first officer. Maybe he thought that I could talk Spock into leaving. Maybe he just values Spock’s life more than anyone else’s on the crew, and trusts only himself with guarding him. Regardless of the reason, it was the three of us that discovered that there was a tunnel system below the mine owner’s home, and we decided to see if there were survivors down there.

“As I was on the Enterprise, and on Starbase 27 before that, I cannot speak to whether or not the 31 unit broke protocol intentionally, or if it was truly an accident that prevented them from rescuing the miners first. That will be a matter of investigation when I return. I thought it serendipitous that we stumbled across them, though. I had hoped, once we found them, that Kirk would be intrigued by their work or interested in their mission, and I could talk to him and the commander about the transfer.” 

April hesitated, lips parting as he paused for breath. He said, “Then there was a tragic accident.” Kirk clenched his hands in his lap, willing his breathing to remain steady. “I will spare you the terrible details, but we thought Commander Spock had perished. Captain Kirk--- well, he went ballistic. I have never seen a man more out of control, especially not a Starfleet officer of his caliber. We had to stun him for everyone’s safety, and took him back to the 31 ship to care for him. When he awoke, he harmed several officers, kidnapped my advisor, and damaged Starfleet property--- all to escape. Somehow he convinced a small contingent of his crew to come get him, and then he and the commander fled here. We were all very relieved to learn that Commander Spock had not been killed,” April said, his eyes glinting in the light. “However, Captain Kirk’s response to the commander’s injury makes me question his capacity as a leader. I believe that Spock compromises the captain’s integrity, his objectivity, and I doubt the wisdom of allowing them to serve together in the future.” He smoothed his hands over his thighs. “I welcome any further questions.” A low, seeping dread started to creep through Kirk’s stomach. April told beautiful lies. What if they couldn’t catch him out?

Areel stood immediately. “Thank you, Admiral April. Is it true that you are the leader of the Starfleet entity known as Section 31?” 

“Yes,” he said. 

“How long have you held that position?”

“A little over four years.” 

“Have you ever heard of or witnessed activities related to, say, the creation of biological weapons?” 

“Not in my tenure as head,” he said. It was a seamless evasion. Kirk clenched his fists beneath the table as Areel nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Did you know that Captain Kirk had been on Tarsus IV?” 

“I did,” he said quietly. Kirk schooled his features to neutrality.  

“Do you have any knowledge regarding operations that Section 31 may have conducted on Tarsus IV?” 

“The tragedy on Tarsus IV occurred long before I joined 31. I cannot be expected to know every experiment 31 has ever run.” It still wasn’t a no. 

“Captain Kirk argues that Section 31 has violated his civil rights over the past twenty years,” she said. Her voice was steely and blank; when Kirk had known her well, many years before, he had called it her lawyering voice. “Do you have any evidence of Section 31 taking particular interest in the Tarsus survivors, or any explanation for why that interest would lead Kirk to refuse a transfer of command?” 

“It would be highly unlikely,” April hedged. He paused and licked his lips. “It would be highly unlikely for any branch of Starfleet to take such particular pains to follow civilians.” Areel waited, but that was April’s entire answer. She blinked and backed off.

“Regarding the charges of violating the constitution of the Federation, have you personally witnessed such violations occurring?” 

Kirk clenched his teeth. It was a lowball question, and so easily sidestepped. “I have not.” 

Areel turned away. “The prosecution rests.” Ketoul stood and took her place, looking to Morrow for permission. He nodded. 

“Admiral April,” she said. Her voice was sweet like poisoned fruit. 

“Counselor Ketoul.” His response was dry, acerbic; there was a familiarity there that Kirk didn’t understand. 

“I can’t help but note that many of your responses are about your ignorance of the inner workings of your own organization. I’d like to focus on what you do know.” April’s mouth turned down at the corners, but he inclined his head. “You knew that Captain Kirk and his first officer were in a relationship?” 

“I did.” 

“When did you become aware of that fact?”

“I suspected as such when I recommended Spock for promotion when Captain Bergara retired, and he refused it. They married shortly after that.” As they moved back to safer ground, April’s voice grew in strength. The shadow of his original annoyance grew. 

“What was your goal in transferring Spock?” 

“Spock is too good at too many things to be a first officer forever. Bergara had run a science ship. I thought to offer him an opportunity while filling an open position.”

“But you didn’t think to order him to transfer, the way you did Captain Kirk? I can’t help but notice your willingness to override my client’s wishes, but not Commander Spock’s.” 

April huffed a breath through his nose, and laced his fingers together in his lap. “Commander Spock’s transfer was a matter of his professional development. Captain Kirk’s was and is a matter of Federation security. Captain Kirk also informed me, on multiple occasions and very strong terms, that nothing will kill morale faster than an unwilling leader. If Spock didn’t want command, there was nothing I could do about that. But Kirk does want command, loves it, and there should have been no objective reason for him to reject one command for another.”  

Ketoul nodded, absorbing his words and ceding his point, before changing tack. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” April said. 

“Would you be upset if your spouse were seemingly killed in front of you, only days after you had finally married to ensure that you could stay together?” 

A muscle in his jaw twitched.  “Yes.” 

“Could you please elaborate on the tragedy that you thought had killed Commander Spock?” 

April shifted in his seat; the first real sign of his discomfort. At the table across from Kirk, Areel’s hands tightened on the arm of her chair. “He was struck by an inadvertent electrical discharge.” 

“With Commander Spock’s permission, I have entered his medical records from the past four months into evidence. You may wish to spare us the terrible details, Admiral, but I do not.” Ketoul waited, watching the panel turn to the correct section on their padds. Drake reeled back in disgust. 

Ketoul said, “Am I understanding you correctly that Commander Spock was shot, with a phaser, by accident?” A vein in April’s forehead started to throb. He gave a jerky nod. 

“Dr. Leonard McCoy is Spock’s primary medical provider, as CMO on the starship Enterprise. It was his professional opinion, notated and signed in the file, that this phaser had been set to kill. It was also his opinion that if he hadn’t moved just so, and if he hadn’t been a Vulcan male in peak health, he would have died almost immediately.” 

“Objection,” Areel said. “Conjecture.” 

“Sustained,” Morrow snapped. Ketoul settled her shoulders back. “Fine. It was his opinion that the phaser had been set to kill. Is it not against Starfleet regulation to leave an unholstered weapon set to the highest power?”

April nodded again, one sharp movement. 

“Could you please explain the context surrounding Commander Spock being shot, almost fatally, by friendly fire, during a situation in which you were hoping to convince Captain Kirk to join your branch voluntarily?”

“Accidents happen,” April said, and his voice, previously staunch and confident, dropped to an uncharacteristic weakness. There it was--- the inconsistency in his story, the unerasable hand of Elise in the outcome of that day. The only thing April had seemed to regret, in the last minutes in the tunnels on Kindinos: he hadn’t wanted to kill Spock. Morrow’s gaze, previously focused on Ketoul, shot to him. 

“Your reputation precedes you,” Ketoul said. “You are a man of exacting standards. Did you report to HQ or otherwise punish the officer who, through reckless handling of a dangerous weapon, almost killed a fellow officer?” There was an unbearable pause. April studied his hands, turning them over to look at his palms. Then he looked back up at Ketoul.  

“No,” April said. Morrow frowned.

“Why not?” 

April said nothing. 

“Was it because this officer was following orders? Your orders, maybe?” 

“Objection,” Areel said again. “Leading.” Nobody responded. Ketoul forged on. 

“If you are court-martialing Captain Kirk for refusing an order transfer, and First Officer Spock is his lawfully wedded husband, entitled to serve alongside him and protected from separation by Starfleet regulation, why is Commander Spock not here as a defendant as well? If you truly respect his abilities so highly, why not request him as well?”

April’s hands clenched in his lap as his breathing rate increased. For a second, it looked as though he wanted to respond; he looked up at Ketoul, and then his gaze flicked to Kirk for a half-second. In that brief blink, his exhaustion leapt to the surface, the strain apparent. Then it was gone.

“If you had wanted Captain Kirk to transfer to Section 31, wouldn’t it have sweetened the deal to bring his husband with him? One of the most effective command teams in the quadrant could have been a huge asset to your organization.” Ketoul had seen that moment and she took one step towards him: she had smelled the blood in the water. April watched her with an unidentifiable expression.

“In your own characterization of the situation, you could have rectified Spock’s underutilization and gotten Kirk to agree to almost anything, if you had just offered for both of them to go.” Ketoul took another step towards him. “Unless Captain Kirk’s marital status no longer mattered by the time you actually asked, or ordered, Kirk to transfer, because you believed Spock to be dead. I ask you again, Admiral: how did Commander Spock get shot?” Kirk’s palms felt wet, once again drenched in Spock’s lifeblood in that awful cave, Spock’s body heavy and falling in his arms--- he forced himself to unclench his fists and settle into himself. In the silence of the stone room, he could hear April’s raspy, unsteady breathing.

“A man of exacting standards,” Ketoul said again, softly. April’s gaze flicked to her; there was a desperation in his eyes. “It’s hard to believe that someone like you could be accused of either ordering a subordinate to shoot a fellow officer, or that, if it was an accident, that you would let the matter lie. I ask you again, admiral. How did Commander Spock get shot?”

Silence. Then, Kirk heard it: a nauseating clicking, timed with the jumping of April’s throat. Ketoul took another step towards him. “Maybe the better question is why was Commander Spock shot,” she said. 

“Objection,” Areel said. “Conjecture.” But April turned his head hard to the side, eyebrows pulling together in a pained expression, the tendons of his neck trembling, before he turned mechanically back to Ketoul. 

“It seems out of character for you, Admiral,” Ketoul said. Her tone slid from accusing to something softer. “Tell us. Why was Commander Spock shot?”

April’s head tipped back before snapping back up. Then his eyes slid to Kirk’s, and Kirk saw what he had been hoping for: fear, remorse, and, beneath those, a new determination that he thought he understood. He held April’s gaze, and he did not look away. He held the ugly, warped connection thrumming between them as April shifted forward and said to Ketoul, in a low, choking voice, “Because--- because--- because---” 

He collapsed forward, out of the chair and onto the ground. 

Areel screamed. Drake and Morrow leapt to their feet. Kirk skidded from his chair to April. He dropped to his knees and rolled the other man onto his side. His eyes were open, blank and unseeing, as he craned his neck back and spasmed, and there was a bloody scrape across his nose and cheekbone from hitting the ground. Kirk stripped his dress uniform tunic off, bunching it up to stuff beneath April’s head, and yelled to the clerk by the door, “Call a medic!” 

By the time the Vulcan medics arrived, the seizure had stopped, and April lay unconscious on the stone floor, breathing shallowly. Areel and Ketoul hovered nervously nearby, the admirals and the justice watching intently. The medics carefully loaded April onto a stretcher and lifted, carrying him out into the unforgiving mid-morning sun. Kirk sat back on his heels and reclaimed his now-wrinkled dress uniform, buttoning it slowly over his black undershirt as an oppressive silence sank down over the courtroom. 

“What,” Morrow eventually asked, “the hell was that?”

Ketoul glanced at Kirk as he stood. He settled into parade rest and said, “Evidence of Section 31 violating the right to one’s mind.” T’Lona’s lips pursed, eyes calculating and cold. Morrow’s eyes narrowed, and he looked back at Kirk. 

“You have thirty seconds to explain what just happened.” 

“Section 31 rebuilt Dr. Adams’s neural neutralizer from Tantalus and has been using it on its own agents to control them. Sir,” Kirk said. “I saw the advisor put April under it when I was on the ship. He might be the head on paper, but he isn’t the one making command decisions.” Morrow shook his head, turning away from the group, before swinging back to point one finger at Ketoul.

“You specified, earlier, that you would charge him if he was fit to stand trial.” 

“Yes, sir,” Ketoul said.

“You knew this would happen.”

“We had an idea, sir,” she said, and she withstood the brunt of Morrow’s furious scowl. He turned away from the group, wiping one hand over his face, before turning back. 

“What a mess,” he said. “Counselor Shaw, who did April list as his first officer?”

Areel’s eyes slid to Kirk and Ketoul before she said, voice low, “The security advisor that Captain Kirk kidnapped, Admiral. Her name is Joanne March.” 

“A retired advisor as his first officer,” Morrow said, mostly to himself. Then he said, louder, “Put her on the court-martial forms and have her beam down.” 

“Excuse me, sir,” Ketoul said. 

“What.” 

“Is this the advisor you’re referencing?” Ketoul held up her padd, with Elise Darling’s staff photo displayed. Morrow nodded. “I reached out to request that she serve as a witness for Captain Kirk, but she never responded.” 

Morrow turned to Kirk. “You asked the woman you kidnapped to testify in your own court-martial? Kirk, are you insane?” Morrow’s composure looked like it was hanging on by one single thread. He planted his fists on his hips. 

“She was my psychologist when I was at the Academy,” Kirk said. “But I knew her as Elise Darling.” 

Morrow stared at him for five full seconds. He inhaled and exhaled twice. Then he said, in the stillest voice Kirk had ever heard from him, “I recommend we adjourn for the day. We try this again tomorrow, with this Joanne--- Elise--- woman representing Section 31. Counselor Shaw, call whatever witnesses you like. We’re not waiting, we’ll beam them in through subspace. Counselor Ketoul, bring all of yours in.” He wiped a hand over his face again. Then he leveled a shrewd glare at Kirk and Ketoul. “You’ve made this case very, very complicated. You’d better have the evidence to back it up.” 

Kirk nodded. Ketoul said, “We do.” 

Morrow sighed. “Dismissed.” Then he turned back to Admiral Drake and T’Lona. Areel, Ketoul, and Kirk left the courtroom as silently as they had entered it, emerging into the bright sunlight. Areel turned to them, as if she might say something--- then she decided against it, and split off from them to head in the direction of ShiKahr’s city-center. 

Spock emerged from a zen garden in the center of the courtyard, his light robes billowing around him. His eyes searched Kirk’s face for evidence of how it had gone, and Kirk let him read his face and his nerves, only extending his hand for the comfort of Spock’s fingers kissing his. 

“It worked,” he said, and Spock nodded. They wound through the justice complex, Kirk trying to avoid analyzing which of the sandy footprints on the paths might have been the medics carrying April, until they arrived where they had parked. Spock drove them home, soaring through the streets of ShiKahr, and they escaped back into the blessed quiet and cool of Sarek and Amanda’s home. 

Kirk and Spock stayed in the main house for most of the day. They sat in silence as Ketoul reviewed her notes and occasionally asked a clarifying question. Kirk twined his fingers together in increasingly painful configurations until Spock took one of Kirk’s hands and pressed it between his own. Dinner later was a somber affair. 

If this goes right, Kirk kept thinking as he half-heartedly pushed cubes of vegetables around his plate. If this goes right, tomorrow we could be with the others, with my kids. We could celebrate together. We could be free of all of it. If this goes right. 

Kirk rolled over in bed long after the nightbirds had started to sing, pulling Spock by the hand. Spock rolled with him, pressing his chest to Kirk’s back, his breath ruffling the hair on the back of Kirk’s neck.

“Share what troubles you,” Spock ordered, his voice quiet. His fingertips brushed over Kirk’s wrist in a gentle back-and-forth. 

“April had it so much worse than I did,” Kirk said. He stared into the darkness, remembering the seizure, the scrape across April’s face. “It was awful. I can’t help but wonder now if we did the right thing.” 

Spock’s hand settled on Kirk’s forearm, pulling him close against him. “I am sorry, k’diwa. But he will receive the highest level of care that the VSA can offer, and you have given him the same opportunity that you received.” 

“The opportunity of passing out somewhere on Vulcan?” 

Spock was silent for a minute, a warm presence enveloping Kirk. Then he said, “I believe that Admiral April could have remained silent, or further prevaricated, if he so wished. But by forcing the issue in public, far from the neutralizer and Elise, he now has the opportunity to defect from 31.” Spock was quiet again before he said, “It will remain to be seen how many of his actions were his own, as opposed to those programmed into him. The man I knew during the war was cynical and hawkish, but he never would have worked for such an organization of his own free will.” 

Kirk lifted Spock’s hand from his arm and pressed it to his face. Spock’s palm was smooth, cool and dry, and he curled his fingers lightly against his forehead, his temple, his cheekbones. Even through the light contact Kirk could feel a spark of something between Spock’s fingertips and his psi-points. He wished, suddenly, that they were melded, that he could feel that comforting presence inside his head and not just pressed against him. But until he was certain that he was not going to be sold to Section 31 and its secrets for the rest of his life, he would not ask. Instead he rolled over inside the circle of Spock’s arms, breaking the connection, and pressed his face instead to Spock’s neck. Spock put his chin on the top of Kirk’s head, and they breathed until Kirk fell into a restless sleep. 

☆☆☆

Kirk, Spock, and Neera Ketoul walked again through the winding pathways of the ShiKahr judicial complex in the early-morning quiet. There were very few people around; only a handful of Vulcan clerks moving purposefully from building to building, and their own, who led them back to the same building they had occupied the day before. They were early, and the first people there; the other survivors would be checking in at the front gate any moment. Kirk was jittery despite the calm of the morning and the lack of caffeine in his system. Today he would face Elise and publicly testify about his time on Tarsus. Only time would tell if it would be worth it. 

In the center of the courtyard, the air began to shimmer with gold resonance. Spock pressed the back of his wrist to Kirk’s, a steadying presence at his side. But the body that materialized was not Elise; it was a dark-haired southern gentleman, one who started moving towards him nearly before he had finished beaming. 

Kirk threw his arms open to hug Bones for the first time in four months. His friend collided hard with him, gripping the back of his shirt tightly. They held onto each other; subspace calls were a weak substitute for the joy of seeing him in real life. Bones pulled back, patting his shoulder hard and scanning his face. Kirk held his gaze, and his first genuine smile of the day started to pull the corners of his mouth up as Bones gaped at him. 

“My God, Jim,” he said. “You look like a new man!” 

“I feel like one,” Kirk said, and grinned in earnest as Bones slapped his back. 

“We’ve missed you,” he said, nodding to Spock and falling in on Kirk’s other side. 

“The feeling is mutual,” Kirk said. Bones and Ketoul shook hands as they met in person for the first time, and from the other side of the courtyard Kirk could see a young Vulcan leading a group of humans towards them: the twins, Kevin, and Tommy. Mira waved enthusiastically as they approached.

As the clerk let them into the courtroom, where the panel of judges already sat waiting, Kirk changed his mind. His husband, his best friend, and his childhood chosen family--- a veritable army of people who loved him--- were all in the same room. They were safe and whole, prepared to testify for and with him, despite time and distance. No matter the outcome, this moment alone was already worth it.

Kirk sat again at the table reserved for the defendant, and the other witnesses filed into the row of chairs behind them. Ketoul set down her padd and bag before leaning down to him. 

“We got them,” she said. 

He looked sharply at her. “I thought you didn’t hear back from anyone else.” She shrugged. 

“I didn’t, at first,” she said. “But since Morrow offered Areel an option for her witnesses to testify virtually, I asked if we could have the same offer.”

“You just… asked him for it?” 

“Yes,” she said, as if asking favors of admirals was all in a day’s work to her. “I thought those who wouldn’t or couldn’t travel might be willing to call in.” He hid his smile at her audacity in his hand and looked down at the table instead. 

The door in the back of the room opened, and an icy finger drew a line down the back of his neck. He felt, even before he turned to see her, the chilling presence of Elise Darling. The quiet chatter of the room fell silent as she entered, striding confidently down the center aisle with a furious Areel on her heels. 

He turned. There she was. Gone was the black Section 31 uniform; instead, in juxtaposition to her military bearing and demeanor, she wore a soft pair of khakis and a pink cardigan. Her hair was a softer gray in the warm lighting of the room, more raincloud than gunmetal, and the soft wrinkles of her face feathered across her cheeks and forehead. She looked almost exactly like she had when he knew her. 

She found his eyes unerringly, and she smiled gently at him, as if to say, now what’s all the fuss about, Jim? Then her eyes flicked to the row of witnesses behind him, his army, and the kindness faded from her face. A wave of protective fury rose within him, one that urged him to hide his kids from her poisonous tongues, shove her backwards out of the room so that she did not get to see what they had grown up into. He glanced quickly at them, gauging them, ready to intercede. But where he had expected fear, or trepidation, he saw only the steel of their resolve. He looked at his husband, and felt a little thrill of delicious fear. The trappings of Spock’s civility had all but melted away at her entrance; his eyes were night-dark and burning, posture threatening and angled towards Kirk, one hand slowly fisting and unclenching at his side. When Elise looked back at Kirk, her eyes were cold, but he did not look away.

Then she settled gently into the seat that April had occupied the day before as Areel stood next to the table. Morrow looked up at her from his padd and, frowning, said, “You didn’t submit any more witnesses, Counselor?” 

Areel’s lawyering voice was back. “The plaintiff has refused to provide any.”

Morrow said, “Excuse me?” 

“The plaintiff informed me that she will not be calling any other witnesses to testify.” Areel’s hands were clasped behind her back, so tightly clenched that her knuckles were white. “As her counsel, I advised her otherwise, but she remains firm in her decision.”

Morrow looked at Elise. “Is that correct?”

“Yes,” she said. Her voice was warm, friendly; it floated through the air like a dust mote. Kirk clenched his jaw. Morrow stared between her and Areel before sighing. He settled both hands onto the table, leaning forward, and said, “All rise.” They stood. “Thus continues the court-martial of Section 31 versus Captain James T. Kirk, and the countersuit of Captain Kirk versus Section 31. As the original plaintiff and countersuit defendant has been found medically unfit to stand trial, his first officer will stand for him. She will testify, and then the counselors may call witnesses and submit evidence. Counsel was given dispensation to call witnesses via subspace. Counselor Shaw, you may begin.” 

Areel stepped forward again. Her quiet self-confidence from the day before had been replaced by a bubbling frustration. “I call the plaintiff to the stand.” Elise stood carefully, smoothing her hands down her khakis, and walked to the witness chair without a single trace of concern or remorse. This courtroom was just one more deck on the ship of her obsessive control. 

“Advisor, place your hand upon your heart. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as an officer of Starfleet and a citizen of the Federation?”

“I do,” Elise said, laying a wrinkled and sun-spotted hand over her chest. 

“Please state your name for the court.” 

Elise smiled gently at Areel. “Does it matter?” 

“Does it---” Areel stuttered, her mouth dropping half-open in shock. Kirk almost felt bad for the Herculean task she had been assigned. “Yes, it matters!”

“Why, may I ask?” 

“It matters because Admiral April gave the court one name, and Captain Kirk gave another, and it seems as though both of those names are yours. Please state your name.”

“My legal name is Joanne March,” Elise said. Areel gave a sharp nod. 

“Has your legal name ever been Elise Darling?” 

“Oh,” Elise said, and gave a self-conscious little laugh. “Not for a long time. But yes.” Her eyes found Kevin, seated behind Kirk, and Kirk fought to keep himself still in his chair instead of putting his body between that gaze and Kevin. “At one point it was Siobhan Murphy.” 

“Ms. March, what role do you play in Section 31?” 

“I’m just an advisor now,” she said, crossing her legs at the knee. “Before I retired, I spent a long time in 31, and in its predecessor.”

“Its predecessor?”

“Intelligence and Information Operations, dear,” Elise said. Her voice was patronizing, as if she were giving Areel a lecture on a topic she should have already known. “In the years before the Klingon War, more and more departments were folded into I and I until it became what you now call Section 31.” 

“What role did you play in Captain Kirk’s transfer order, and in the events on Kindinos VI?” 

“I was the one to suggest the transfer,” Elise said, and Morrow and Drake’s faces blanked out in surprise. “Admiral April expressed frustration that very few of our commanders had the improvisation and creative thinking that other Starfleet captains displayed. I suggested that we transfer the best to our staff, in order to provide learning opportunities. I had hoped that Captain Kirk could, as they say, show them how it’s done.” She turned her head away from Areel then to meet Kirk’s eyes, and when she smiled he heard her words in his head: I always knew that you were going to be special. 

“And Kindinos?”

Something closed off in Elise’s face. It was as subtle as a door slamming shut. “Dilithium is a finite and necessary resource for the Federation. Kindinos VI is strategically valuable.” 

Areel stared at her, waiting for her to provide something more concrete, and Elise looked politely back. She changed course. “When Captain Kirk refused the transfer order, what was your next plan of action?” 

“I was unwilling to accept no for an answer,” Elise said. She looked at the panel then, directly at T’Lona. “As the Vulcans say, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.” T’Lona held her gaze, face unchanging.

“Who are the many, in this case, Advisor?” 

“The citizens of the Federation, of course,” Elise said. She frowned slightly. “I don’t know if you had noticed, Counselor, but the galaxy is a dangerous place. Section 31 is frequently the only line between order and chaos. It would have been better for having Captain Kirk.”

“Would you mind returning to the events on Kindinos, Advisor? I’d like you---” 

The door in the back of the room swung open. A woman with graying red hair burst through, a flustered clerk on her heels. The other clerk blinked in surprise, catching the door before it could bang against the wall. 

“Excuse me,” Morrow boomed. “This is a closed--- Sarah?” The indignation in his voice faded as the woman approached. “Announce yourself.” 

“My name is Dr. Sarah April,” the woman said. She slowed as she approached the tables, a data card clutched in her hand. Elise watched her with a vague disinterest as Areel backed away, allowing a clear sight-line between Dr. April and the panel. “I’m acting on behalf of Admiral Robert April through power of attorney, and I want to submit his medical records as evidence.”

Everyone in the room turned to the petite woman. She held up the data card in her hand, breathing hard through her nose. “Robert is in a hospital bed right now because of what happened here.” She snapped the card into her other palm and her voice turned desperate. “I read the countersuit. I am a doctor. I know my husband. I want to submit this scan as evidence of what Captain Kirk said.” 

“Sarah April,” Elise said, an odd light coming into her eyes. She tilted her head to the side. “I’ve heard so much about you from Robert.” 

“Do not talk to me about Robert,” Dr. April hissed, pointing at her with one finger. She marched to the table and slapped the datacard onto it. “This is an MRI of his brain yesterday.” 

Morrow reached across the table, taking the card. Dr. April took a shuddering breath, meeting Morrow’s gaze--- then she turned and marched back to the row behind the survivors, where she remained standing. 

Morrow said, “Counselor, I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

The look on Areel’s face said that this day could not possibly get any worse for her, but she said, “By all means.” Morrow slid the card to T’Lona, who inserted it somewhere beneath the table. There was a click, and a whirring, and a panel in the wall across from the witness stand slid into a hidden pocket to reveal a holoscreen. T’Lona pushed a few more buttons, and the holoscreen began to glow. The screen glowed for a few more seconds before the brain scan loaded completely. Kirk registered it blankly: it was just a picture of a brain.

But Bones leapt to his feet, hands gripping the back of Kirk’s chair hard, and cried, “My God!” He stared at the image, his face paling, before he stalked closer. He pressed a hand to his mouth as he inspected the scan, eyes huge and luminescent in the glow of the holoscreen. He turned back to the room at large, opening his mouth to speak---

“Objection,” Areel said, through gritted teeth. “I want an explanation from a doctor unaffiliated with the countersuit.” 

There was a painful silence. “Sustained,” Morrow bit out. He turned to T’Lona and they had a harried, whispered conversation. 

“Counselor Shaw, please continue. Advisor March, your testimony?”

Areel turned back to Elise, where she still sat patiently in the witness’s chair. She said, hesitant at first before regaining her momentum, “Kindinos VI, Ms. March. Yesterday, Captain Kirk implied that Section 31 had broken regulation during its mission to reclaim the dilithium that had been left on-planet. What was your role in that mission?”

Elise considered Areel for a moment, twinkling eyes calculating. “No,” she eventually said. “I don’t think I’d like to talk about that.” 

“Advisor, I strongly recommend---” 

“Counselor Shaw, your client---” 

Elise stood. Areel fell silent, and Morrow said, “Advisor, if you step down now, I’m holding you in contempt of the court.” 

Elise tilted her head, looking for all the world like someone’s kindly grandmother, and said, “That’s fine.” Then she crossed the room, only her footsteps interrupting the shocked silence, and took a seat. 

Morrow stuttered for a second, then leaned over to T’Lona. They exchanged a few brief words before she swept down the center aisle, catching the clerk in her wake, and disappeared. Morrow said, “We will take a brief recess. Sarah, a moment.” 

Kirk turned from the debacle in front of him to find Elise watching him. Her eyes scanned over him and the army of witnesses behind him, and she gave him a what can you do? kind of smile. Then she turned back to Areel, saying something to her too quietly to be heard, and patted her arm. 

Kirk turned around in his chair to find his kids talking quietly to each other, Kevin’s eyes flicking uneasily to Elise every few minutes. Spock sat statue-still, unblinking alien gaze locked on Elise as well, his lip twitching closer to a snarl with every passing second. Kirk scooted his chair closer just to bask in the company of his people, content to let their voices roll over him, Spock pressing one knee protectively against his. 

Sarah April had submitted the admiral’s brain scan as evidence for his countersuit. Elise was going to be held in contempt of the court. 

He tried not to let his hope get ahead of itself, but he thought the tide of the war had just turned.

A chaotic hour passed before T’Lona, the clerk, and an older Vulcan doctor returned to the courtroom.

“Order!” Morrow shouted, and the room fell silent once again. “Justice T’Lona, if you please…?” 

“I introduce you to S’Ren, a neurologist at the Vulcan Science Academy. He is of the clan Archenida.” 

Areel rose and lifted a ta’al. “Greetings,” she said formally. Then she glanced between T’Lona and S’Ren. “You are not--- related to anyone represented in the countersuit?” 

S’Ren inclined his head. “Correct.” 

Areel nodded. “Thank you.” Then she gestured back to the holoscreen. Morrow tapped something, and the screen lit back up as the room dimmed. “Please.” S’Ren approached the screen, hands clasped behind his back much in the same way that Spock held himself, and peered at the MRI scan. He studied the date and time at the bottom before continuing his assessment. For three minutes this continued, and the audience watched him in silence as he paced before the holoscreen. Then he nodded once to himself and turned back to T’Lona. 

“I have gleaned all that I can without further detail,” he said. 

“Will you testify to your observations?” 

“I will,” he said, and crossed to the witness’s chair. He sat, his robes draping down over it and hiding it entirely from view. Areel stepped forward once more. 

“Dr. S’Ren, please place your hand on your heart.” He did so. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as a citizen of Vulcan and the Federation?”

“I do,” he said, and she nodded. Then she asked, “Will you share your observations of this image with the court? In layman’s terms, if possible.”

S’Ren looked back at the MRI on the screen across from him, slanted eyebrows pulling together thoughtfully, before he said, “This is a scan from a magnetic resonance imaging machine. The name of the patient is known to me, as I was present when he was brought into care yesterday afternoon. I understand him to be a human male of between fifty-five and sixty-five years. I must state before any further observations are made that it is difficult to make concrete diagnoses without further information from the patient or his caregivers. I cannot guarantee that what is shown in this image depicts the entirety of his health.” 

Areel nodded. “Your point is well taken, Doctor. Please continue.” 

S’Ren said gravely, “There is scarring within the patient’s brain. The presentation and formation pattern is consistent with reactive astrogliosis, which is a defense mechanism of the brain in many bipedal species. Reactive astrogliosis is,” and here he hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “a response to brain injury or infection. The scar tissue creates a barrier between the wound and the rest of the brain to prevent the spread of either bacteria or inflammation.” 

“Is there a certain part of the brain that shows this reaction, doctor?” Areel’s voice was measured. 

“The entire thing,” S’Ren said, and Dr. Sarah April stifled a little wounded noise into her clenched fist. “Scarring presents between each lobe and between the hemispheres.” 

“What kind of injury or infection triggers this response?” 

“It is difficult to say without knowing the patient’s full medical history,” S’Ren said. “Though, if I were the diagnosing physician and did not have access to his history, I would proceed under the assumption that it was an injury, rather than an infection.”

“Why?”

“Because of the even spread of scar tissue. An infection in the brain typically blooms in one section; one lobe, or perhaps the brain stem. Reactive astrogliosis would then spawn to create a barrier between the point of infection and the rest of the brain. This image, however, indicates that whatever caused such damage did so to the whole organ at once.” 

“Is it possible to tell when this injury occurred? So we might compare it to the patient’s medical history later?” 

“It is not possible to tell how old the scarring is without a biopsy,” S’Ren said. “However, I can say that there were multiple injuries.” 

Areel’s voice was sharp. “What do you mean?”

S’Ren held her gaze. “There are layers to the scarring.” His eyes slid past her to focus on the holoscreen again. With two fingers, he traced in the air the thick white lines along the brain in the image. “The scarring has formed along the same lines again and again. It is thinner, more transparent at the edges; those are new scars, more recently formed. Where the scarring is thickest is the opaque section in the middle.” 

Dr. April started to cry in earnest. She stifled the noise in her palm, but her shoulders shook. Mira tapped Ellie on the thigh before she shuffled around her, claiming the empty seat next to Robert April’s weeping wife. Then she slid her hand into that of a perfect stranger, holding onto it with both of hers. Dr. April gripped her like a lifeline.

“Is there anything else that you believe relevant, Dr. S’Ren?”

“I see no fractures of the skull, or any other indication that the damage has a physical source,” S’Ren said, and his voice hardened. “The even distribution of the astrogliosis in conjunction with a lack of blunt force trauma…” He trailed off, and in its wake Kirk saw horror crack through T’Lona’s stoicism. Then S’Ren said, words harsh and tripping off his tongue, his perfect Standard accent slipping, “Something was repeatedly done to this brain that this brain fought against, and fought hard.” 

Areel took one small step backwards. “The prosecution rests,” she said unsteadily, and returned to her seat. She did not look at Elise. 

Morrow, aghast, said, “Counselor Ketoul?” Ketoul shook her head, her hand pressed to her mouth. “Thank you, Doctor. I believe you are free to go.” S’Ren, composure regained, stood. He inclined his head to the humans, raised the ta’al to T’Lona and Spock, and departed--- but not before one last long, searching look at the holoscreen and the damaged brain on it. The door swung shut behind him with a click.

Justice T’Lona had become a marble statue of a Vulcan woman, staring ahead unblinkingly. Her hands rested on the table, framing the padd of information before her. There was a beat of silence before she slowly turned to Morrow and Drake. 

“We continue,” she said. Morrow nodded once, twice, before he turned to Ketoul. 

“Counselor, you may begin.” She stood immediately, shaking off the stillness and horror from Dr. S’Ren’s testimony over the two steps that took her to the center of the room. She turned back to Kirk where he still sat at the table, and met his eyes. In her gaze there was a question: Are you ready for this?

He pressed his palms to his thighs. He allowed himself one steadying breath. Then he nodded.

“I call the defendant Captain Kirk to testify.” 

He stood, straightened the bottom of his dress tunic, and took the witness stand. He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. Like in my chair, he thought, picturing his bridge in his mind. He held the image of his ship and his crew in his mind as Ketoul said, “Captain Kirk, place your hand upon your heart.” He looked at the bench of witnesses, his family, and his eyes found Spock’s. Spock’s gaze was steady, firm, comforting; he was here with him, had made all of this possible, and would not leave him now. Kirk made the ozh’esta with his hand and laid it over his heart. Across the room, silently, Spock mirrored him, and laid it over his. 

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as an officer of Starfleet and a citizen of the Federation?”

“I do,” Kirk said. 

“Captain Kirk, can you please state your name and tell the court how you came to know Section 31?” 

Kirk inhaled to speak, and nausea rose up within him. Elise’s quiet presence was like poison in his veins. She had haunted his steps, dogged him his entire life, had hurt him and his family in ways he was only starting to understand, and now she sat across the courtroom from him and watched him with detached curiosity. He could spill his testimony across the room like lava, fueled only by how much he wanted to hate her, and let it burn everything in its wake. She would probably understand. She would say something like, “You have so many reasons to be angry, Jim,” and then push him to isolate himself further, until all he had left was his rage and his empty hands.

Kirk let the wave pass through him. He had his fury, and probably always would, but it was far from the most important thing about him. He looked at the others: Tommy and Kevin, Mira and Ellie, Spock and Bones. The people he loved most in the galaxy, all seated side by side in a courtroom so that he could finally lay the ghosts of Tarsus to rest. So instead it was love that swallowed the nausea, that expanded his tunneling vision, that settled his shaking hands. He looked back at Ketoul, waiting expectantly. 

“My name is Jim Kirk,” he said. “I survived the genocide on Tarsus IV.” 

In the end, the only detail that Kirk left out was that he and Spock had not technically been dating when they got married. His throat was dry, and his eyes had stung with tears at some points in the telling, but he made it from the beginning at Farm School up to leaving for Vulcan. Mira, halfway through, had returned to her seat next to Ellie, and she clutched her and Kevin’s hands as they listened. When Kirk had talked about the neutralizer, and what Elise had done to April, Dr. April’s tears started again. Ketoul was impassive, unsurprised by any of the revelations; Spock, quietly and righteously furious. But Bones, even after helping them put together the countersuit, stared straight ahead at the stone wall behind Morrow’s head as tears dripped silently down his cheeks.  

“Thank you, Jim,” Ketoul said softly, when he had finished. “I have no further questions.” Morrow blinked, shaking his head as if to clear it, and then turned to Areel. 

“Counselor Shaw, you may cross-examine the defendant if you wish.” 

Areel refused to look at Elise, and said, “The prosecution rests.” Morrow raised his eyebrows, but nodded. 

Kirk stood, unbearably light. Twenty years of silence, of censorship, over. The rest was out of his hands. He reclaimed his seat at the table as Ketoul said, “I call Lieutenant Kevin Riley to the stand.” 

Mira released his hand so that Kevin could take his seat. He moved with more confidence than he had when Kirk had last seen him, and when he turned to the side, there was the undeniable curve of a tummy behind his dress uniform where before there had been ribcage. Kirk couldn’t stop the flush of pride that spread through him at the undeniable proof that Kevin had followed his orders, had gotten help, had tried to see his recovery through this time. 

Kevin swore on his honor, and then he began. 

Kirk’s story had been focused on his panic attacks and his need for secrecy; Kevin’s was centered on his need for control. He had returned from Tarsus, separated from the children who had loved and protected him, to slide back into anonymity in a big extended family that never had quite enough space or time for him. His eating disorder had started as a manifestation of that need; Elise, under the name Siobhan, had seen it and teased it out of him. She enabled that obsession with control to take over everything, leveraging it to make sure he never talked about Tarsus.  

“Jimmy stepped in when he realized that something wasn’t right,” Kevin said, his arms crossed over his chest. “If he hadn’t, I’m not sure if or when I would have ever done anything to get better, myself. That changed everything.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Riley,” Ketoul said, and she looked over her shoulder to Areel and Elise. Areel shook her head, and Ketoul turned back to Morrow. 

“Continue,” he said, and she did. She called Mira to the stand, who turned around and lifted her shirt to show the shiny, scaled skin of her back; some of the burns had resisted the regenerator, and instead had grown with her over time. Mira was all energy and bounce: she tapped her feet and shifted in the chair, her hands flying with her words as she explained the Starfleet doctor who had replaced their pediatrician, who had insisted on being present at every single appointment no matter the specialty, who had so insinuated himself into their lives that he became their parents’ best friend. They had run away on their eighteenth birthday, the only way they could see escaping his ever-tightening grasp. They had gone to school, and they had become teachers. 

Ketoul turned to Areel again; Areel shook her head. 

Ellie went next. She was still where Mira was restless, quiet where she was loud. But their cadence, their vocabulary, were eerily similar. 

“He was obsessed with Tarsus,” Ellie said frankly. “And that turned into an obsession with us. We left before he could dig himself any further into our lives.” Areel’s lower lip was white with tension, pulled between her teeth. Drake sat with her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes closed, and Morrow had bowed his head into his hands. Only T’Lona still sat upright, looking intently at each witness. She was drawn as tight as a bowstring; Kirk would have paid a lot of money to see what happened when she snapped. 

Then it was Tommy’s turn. Tommy, whose deep voice still held traces of the child he had been, in his up-talk and turns of phrase, said, “I don’t think we need to hear the same story again.” He looked around the room, and when his gaze landed on Kirk he smiled that same sweet and sad half-smile, only part of his face moving. 

“Part of why I stayed away was because I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said. “I wanted you to remember me how I was.” Then he looked back at Ketoul, and to the panel. “We supposedly all had mycotoxicosis from the fungus that killed the harvest. But no one could ever explain this to me.” He bowed his head, both hands on one side of his face. Then he released the seal on his mask and lifted his head without it. 

Kirk shot to his feet. There were a few audible gasps. Tommy smiled wryly as he turned his head, inviting them to stare. The eye that had been covered was a dark blue, from iris all the way through the sclera. The color glistened wetly under the lights, like the ocean at night. The eye did not move in his skull with the other, the pupil remaining pointing stubbornly ahead. The skin that had been beneath the mask was a gray-blue, almost periwinkle. It sagged and bunched unnaturally. Across his scalp, hair refused to grow where the skin was stained. “Fusarium graminearum isn’t supposed to do anything like this,” Tommy said. Kirk sat heavily back down.

Kirk stared at Tommy, at the stained skin, and his stomach threatened to rebel in his body at the memory of the dead gray guards in the town. Tommy reattached his mask to his head, sealing away the damaged skin and his unseeing eye. He patted it once self-consciously and said, “Good thing my wife likes blue, huh?”

Tommy reclaimed his seat when Ketoul dismissed him, but as he passed by, Kirk reached out and grabbed his wrist. Tommy looked down at him. Kirk squeezed as he thought of everything he wanted to say--- but instead, he said quietly, “You were just too handsome, huh? The universe had to balance things out for the rest of us.” 

Tommy let out one loose laugh and smacked Kirk on the shoulder. “I’m still better-looking than you, mister. Don’t get too worked up about it.” 

Ketoul continued to call witnesses, an inexorable wave of evidence breaking over the panel. When she called Spock, he swore to tell the truth with the ozh’esta over his heart; Kirk mirrored it over his. He skimmed over his entire history with 31 with a brief, “That information remains classified,” but discussed in detail what had truly happened to the crops on Tarsus, a tense anger building in his voice with each memory recalled. When he had talked about Tarsus, his focus remained on Kirk; but when Spock told the court how he had found Kirk on the Section 31 ship, what Elise had said about his parents, his broken wrist, his dehydration, his phaser burn--- Kirk shivered at that cold, inhuman intensity, the absolute lack of compromise in his voice. Spock stared down Elise in a promise of what he would do if they ever went head to head again; in the end, she looked away from him, unsettled. When he was done and stalked back to his seat, Elise flinched, almost imperceptibly. Kirk couldn’t hide the vicious delight that he felt in her fear. The Spock rule applied everywhere; Spock would never let anyone harm him again.

Bones took his padd to the stand with him, and put that bloodhound mind on display: he held the rapt attention of the court as he walked the panel through every lie and misdirection in Kirk’s medical file from his return from Tarsus up until he had been handed over to McCoy’s care on the Enterprise.   

“Cleared for duty, my ass,” Bones snarled at Elise, padd in one shaking hand as he thrust it in her direction. “Not even a licensed medical professional, and you have the nerve to---”

“Thank you, Dr. McCoy,” Ketoul said loudly. McCoy chewed on his lip for a second, looking like he was considering whether or not it would be worth the contempt of the court if he threw himself at Elise, but in the end he nodded, acquiescing to Ketoul’s legal advice, and sat. 

“Esteemed panel,” she said, turning back to them. “I know that it is atypical, but I would like to submit additional evidence for the case.” 

“What do you have, Counselor?” Morrow’s voice was exhausted. 

“The witnesses that I called that could or would not attend--- three of them sent a holovid testimony after I contacted them again. I would submit that, if you’ll allow it.” 

“Which other witnesses?” 

“The last of the Tarsus survivors.” Behind Kirk, Ellie and Mira sucked in simultaneous gasps. Kevin said, low and shocked, “There were more?” 

Admiral Drake wiped angry tears from her eyes, and when she and Morrow looked at each other he nodded. “We’ll allow it. Counselor Shaw, any objections?” 

Elise sat behind the table, watching her life’s work crumble with nary a blink. But Areel sat next to her, roped into defending this monster by both career and duty, and Kirk had never seen her so furious. 

“No objections,” she said, the words coming out in a hiss, and Ketoul nodded gratefully. She took a data card from her bag and brought it to the panel. 

“Thank you,” she said, and handed it to T’Lona. Then she took her seat next to Kirk again while T’Lona loaded the card onto the holoscreen.

Kirk leaned towards her and whispered quietly, “Just one? I thought there were four others.”

She looked sympathetically at him. “I’m sorry, captain. One passed away a few years ago.” Then the holoscreen flashed back to life, and the thumbnail of a holovid file appeared. Three adults sat side-by-side; Kirk would have pegged their ages as between sixty and seventy. They looked solemnly at the camera. The man on the left looked as though he had been crying. All three of them were varying shades of gray-blue. The holovid juddered to life. 

“My name is David Eames,” the man in the middle said. His voice was deep and even. “This is Deirdre Eames.” He gestured to the woman. “And Elias Molson.” This, the man on his other side. David took a deep, unsteady breath. Then he said, “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as a citizen of the Federation. We worked for the colony government on Tarsus IV, and survived what happened there.” He paused, gathering his thoughts; then he began. 

“We’re chemists; we managed the wastewater system. On a new colony like that, everything gets recycled. At first, it was a usage problem. There was a building in town that was using far more water and producing far more waste than we expected. I thought it might have been a pipe break, or that the building had been incorrectly zoned; there are always a few hiccups like that in the first thirty years of a colony. But I started to investigate, and I got blocked. Tarsus had a security force, but they were municipal staff like us. I had never had any reason to think that their loyalty lay somewhere else until I tried to enter the basement of that building and they threatened to shoot me on sight if I ever came back.” 

He coughed, looking somewhat ashamed of himself, before he said, “So we broke into it later. I don’t think people realize how close new colonies are to failure at all times. For a new one, especially in one as isolated as the Tarsus system, you’re one system failure away from a catastrophe for a good fifty years. Without clean water, everything else breaks down. I thought I was protecting the community.” His gaze, anchored out past the camera, went somewhere a thousand lightyears and twenty years away. He started to say something, but lost his momentum. Diedre stepped in and said bluntly, “We found a laboratory. It wasn’t registered anywhere in the colony manifest, and there were no files or names for anything; nothing to imply who worked there or what they were doing. The only thing we could find was a locked walk-in freezer with paper across the window that said ‘radio blue.’ But then we heard someone coming, so we left.” 

Her voice strengthened as she spoke, and she gestured with her words. One hand was gray, her palms crossed with darker blue lines; the other hand, and the wrist that disappeared into the sleeve of her shirt, was the luminescent black of a carbon fiber prosthetic. “We couldn’t do anything about the usage levels without controlling water access for the whole town, but we could monitor the wastewater. And that’s what we did. We didn’t know what we were looking for, but in the end we didn’t need microscopes or tests to see the problem.” She gave a harsh laugh. “You see a lot of stuff in wastewater. But we had never seen this before. It was blue, and metallic, and moved like mercury. We raised the flag immediately. We went all the way to the top, to the governor, and he promised that he would call Starfleet for help.” 

“We monitored, and alerted, and went to the governor’s house to talk about it,” Elias said. His voice was quiet, and he sat perfectly still with his hands cradled in his lap. “He told us Starfleet was on its way, and that everything would be fine. But the harvest started dying, and nothing we tried would remove the blue from the water. It was unresponsive to chemical intervention, and structurally unsound. We were so desperate to keep it from getting back into the reservoir that we tried to set up a filter to catch it. But when the blue hit the filter, it popped like a bubble and dissolved.” He fell silent. 

“A month after we first discovered it and brought it to Kodos, we received a summons from him. We had hoped…” David trailed off. “Well, it doesn’t matter what we hoped anymore. We went, and then we tried to leave, and his guards hunted us through the streets. We pretended to die and hid with the other bodies, and then we ran south that night. There was a sewer entrance down there. We hid for a month, only coming up to steal food when we could, which wasn’t often. We missed the fire completely. And we missed the arrival of the Valiant. We only found out that Starfleet had arrived because it was my turn to scavenge and I walked straight into the middle of the investigation.” 

“We stayed on the Maddox until the CMO declared us stable. They kept calling it mycotoxicosis, saying it was a fungal infection, but what we had was nothing like that. A month down in those tunnels, walking through the wastewater, absorbing radio blue through our skin… Let’s just say the shit they were pulling out of us didn’t look like any fungus we had seen before. Then they declared us better and sent us on. We went back to Luna, but…” Elias looked at David and Diedre, and when he turned his head it revealed the odd gray mottling of his hairline behind his ear, and the tinges of blue in his sclera. 

“Turns out people only don’t mind blue skin when you’re born with it,” David said, and Elias nodded. “We found another colony to work on, one of the stable quiet ones out near Beta VI. We’ve been there ever since.” He paused before looking straight at the camera. “I hope that this is what you needed.” He reached out to turn off the camera, but Elias stopped him with a hand to the wrist. 

“We asked about other survivors,” he said, and his voice shook. “When we were on the Maddox. They told us the Farm School children had all died.” He took a quavering breath. “Getting word that some were alive, that some made it out…” He blew out his breath. “It means a lot. It means everything.” He dropped David’s wrist, and David shut off the camera. 

There had been others. There had been other survivors. If they hadn’t been lied to, if they hadn’t been played off each other to hide the failures of someone else, maybe they could have--- Visions of a life that Kirk and his kids could have had played in front of his vision as his blood boiled. Then his mind cleared, leaving behind only crystal clarity, and the memory of the first thing that Kirk had ever learned about the real Elise. Kirk looked across the room to Elise, sitting placidly, and said, “You used to serve on the Maddox, didn’t you?” Morrow let out a disgusted noise. Ketoul stood. 

“I’d like to call Elise Darling to the stand.” 

“I already testified, dear,” Elise said.

“As Joanne March. I want to talk to you as Elise, and Siobhan too.” Elise inclined her head, like Ketoul had made a particularly clever remark, and stood. She slowly made her way to the witness chair again and sat. 

“I swear to tell the truth as an officer of Starfleet and a citizen of the Federation,” she said, before Ketoul could ask her to do so, and crossed her legs. 

“What division did you serve when you were an officer?” 

“Security,” Elise said. “Information, specifically.”

“So why were you masquerading as a psychologist to a vulnerable teenager?” 

“Masquerading,” Elise repeated, laughing. “It was no mask, I assure you. I am a psychologist. I simply used that understanding as a means to a different end.”    

“You knowingly provided Captain Kirk and his parents with false medical information to secure your own objectives, isolating a traumatized child from his family and harming his recovery.” 

“He wanted to become a captain and I helped him do it,” Elise said. Her voice was a mockery of gentility. “I heard no complaints about my methods until he decided that he wanted something else.” On ‘else,’ her eyes slid from Ketoul, to Kirk, and then to Spock behind him. 

“You still violated his civil rights and Starfleet regulations in doing so.” 

Elise’s smile turned sharper, a vicious scythe across her face. “Tell me, Neera Ketoul,” she said softly. “You haven’t always been such a fan of Federation civil rights. When your people were rejected from Federation inclusion, would you have argued so passionately for Federation laws? Would you have defended the validity of its constitution?” 

“Some ideals are universal,” she said. Her voice was steady. 

“When the Klingons come knocking at your solar system’s boundary, or when the Romulans smite an unarmed civilian ship out of existence, will those ideals mean anything to you?” Elise seemed to grow in size with every breath, a nightmare made flesh. Her words rang through the courtroom, filling Kirk’s head, smothering him. He fought to breathe. “Will you be proud that you stood on principle, or will you wish for a tool that would have prepared you for the wolves at your door?” Elise leaned forward, her eyes locked on Ketoul, her face curling in a snarl.

“Yours is a false dichotomy,” Ketoul said serenely. “And I reject it. Did you know about the experiments occurring on Tarsus IV?”

Elise sat back in her chair, equal parts amused and annoyed at Ketoul’s refusal to play with her. “I held little responsibility at that point in time.” 

“That does not answer the question.” 

“Here is my answer, to this question and all others. Everything I have done, I have done to protect the Federation. There is no one who cares more for its citizens than me. There is no one more willing to sacrifice than me. The difference between me,” she said, and she looked at Morrow, Drake, and T’Lona, “and you, is that I care for the pragmatic, and you hide behind the symbolic. The strength of my organization comes from its willingness to do the hard thing for the right reasons. You can make whatever decision today that soothes your conscience, but I think you’ll find that snipping one thread will not unravel the whole knit, and someday you’ll be grateful it didn’t.” 

Ketoul stared down Elise, and Elise refused to look at her. Her eyes crawled disdainfully instead over the panel, over Areel, and over Kirk and his witnesses. 

Ketoul said quietly, “Your organization?” Elise’s attention snapped back to her, and when Ketoul smiled at her it was all teeth. “The defense rests.” When she turned away from Elise, there was a victorious fire burning in her eyes, and when she caught Kirk’s gaze she grinned. Then she sat back down as Elise slowly rose from the witness stand and returned to the prosecution’s table. 

Morrow cleared his throat. “Counselor Shaw, would you like to offer closing remarks?” Areel stood, straightening the padd on the table in front of her with agitation. 

“I…,” she said, looking down at her padd. Then she looked back up at the panel. “I believe that we have all seen today that breaking the law can be the just thing to do.” Her voice was blank, oddly level. “I trust that this esteemed panel will determine how justice can best be served.” Then she sat. 

“Thank you, Counselor,” Morrow said softly. “Counselor Ketoul?” She stood. 

“I had thought to argue Captain Kirk’s rationale again, but I think that would be unnecessary after the evidence brought forth today,” Ketoul said. “Instead I will read to you his own words, something that he said to me when we were preparing for the case.” She cleared her throat and lifted her padd, and Kirk bowed his head to look at his hands as she spoke.

“He said that he didn’t join Starfleet only to pay lip service to the ideals enshrined in the constitution. He said, ‘We have to be accountable to the people we’re supposed to be serving. We have to be accountable for the face we show to the rest of the galaxy. If the Federation is going to say it cares about the values in its constitution, 31 has to go down.’” She looked up from the padd, setting it down gently. “Even after Captain Kirk was so profoundly betrayed by the organization that he pledged his life and loyalty to, he still acts in its best interests. I ask that you now also consider the best interests of Starfleet and the Federation, and the balance between what is legal and what is just. Thank you.” 

“Thank you, counsel,” Morrow said. His voice was dry and quiet. “We recess to deliberate.” Kirk’s stomach clenched. He closed his eyes in one silent prayer as the panel stood and vanished behind a back door. They sat in silence, not even their breathing audible in the muted acoustics of the Vulcan architecture. 

One minute passed, then two. Then five. As a cold sweat began to trickle down Kirk’s back, the panel returned at the same time that the stoic Vulcan clerk in the back opened the main door. Morrow returned to the center of the room, his eyes crawling over Elise before landing on Kirk. Justice T’Lona and Drake stood at his shoulders, impossible to read. The silence was like a knife between his ribs.

“We, the panel agreed upon jointly by Starfleet Command and the United Government of Vulcan, do find Captain James Kirk not guilty of the charges of which he is accused.” 

Kirk dropped his head into his hands. Relief flooded every corner of his body. His friends leapt to their feet behind him, one grabbing his shoulders as they stood. “Section 31, as represented by Joanne March, is found guilty of severe violations of the Starfleet Regulatory Code and the Federation Constitution.” Armored Vulcan guards in desert-red uniforms marched down the aisle. “You will be returned to Earth for sentencing.” Morrow continued speaking, but Kirk’s brain stopped processing it. The four guards, one at each corner, surrounded Elise, and without touching her urged her from her seat towards the aisle that would take her away. She came towards him, her silver hair glimmering under the lights, her fingers lacing together in front of her in the posture that always reminded him of a schoolteacher. That cardigan, her khakis, that smile--- it was all he could see. He was on his feet without realizing he had moved. 

He was eighteen again, standing in her office for the first time. She watched him, kind eyes twinkling, asking him, “Do you like Jimmy? Jim? JT?” She was almost within arm’s reach now, in the cage of her guards, eyes on him. He pulled himself back into his body, and met her gaze. He put down the mask. He let her see him for all that he was now: whole and strong, his mind, for once in his life, utterly his own. For a moment she looked at him, not as a pawn to be moved, but finally as the player on the other side of the board. When she tilted her head sideways, and one corner pulled up and deepened the wrinkles along her cheek, he saw her pride in him and thought, despite everything, it might even have been genuine. Checkmate, game to Kirk. 

The guards marched her past him, and the moment was over. The sounds of his friends and Ketoul and the panel broke over him, crashing into him. The circle of their arms surrounded him, his kids under his arms and Tommy at his back, Bones pounding his shoulder as Spock watched with a nearly invisible smile. He let his head hang and let them take his weight. 

There was work to be done, somewhere. But not by him, and not tonight. He lay the ghosts of Tarsus down and followed his family out into the hot desert evening.

☆☆☆

Kirk did not think that Spock’s house had ever been so full of humans and their noise before. The Tarsus survivors, Spock and his parents, Bones, and Neera Ketoul sat on every available surface in the largest room, Vulcan and human foods and beverages on every table. Amanda and Mira were discussing early childhood language acquisition theories, Mira hanging on Amanda’s every word. Ellie sat on Mira’s other side, arguing with Spock about the applicability of Grafftner’s equation to astronometrics. Upon learning that he was Kirk’s husband, the twins had adopted Spock into their confidences. Martha and Tommy sat with Kevin, talking quietly. And Neera, to Kirk’s great surprise, posted herself next to Sarek with a glass of fruit juice and silently observed.

Bones sat on a low ottoman next to Kirk, their shoulders pressed together comfortably. Amanda had pressed a glass of some kind of liquor on Bones. Vulcan didn’t produce any, and when Kirk asked about its source she had only smiled at him and handed him one of his own. 

“I’m proud of you, Jimmy,” Bones said, looking at the room full of people. “You moved mountains today.” Kirk took a sip of Amanda’s mystery liquor. It burned pleasantly, and reminded him of honey. 

“Part of me doesn’t believe it’s real,” Kirk said. “Part of me is still looking for her over my shoulder.” 

“I think that might take a while to shake.” Bones was silent for a minute before he said, “Hey, wait. Have you told the others yet?” 

Kirk grinned. “What shift is it?” He grabbed Spock from Ellie’s side, leaving apologies in his wake as she frowned, and dragged him and Bones into a quieter room. He flipped open his long-abandoned comm and fiddled with the dial. 

“Kirk to Enterprise.” There was no response. “I repeat, Kirk to Enterprise.” 

There was a crackle. “Captain!” Uhura’s pleasure was unmistakable, and Kirk grinned as her voice washed over him. “It’s so good to hear from you! We’ve been thinking of you.” He heard the tenor of Pike’s voice in the background, and the chatter of others, and his smile grew. 

Chris shouted, loudly enough to be heard through Uhura’s earpiece: “Put him on audio!” There was a fizz and a pop, and then suddenly the ambient noise of the bridge was audible. Kirk was struck with a wave of longing so powerful that it threatened to take his feet out from under him. He was going back. He was going home.

“How’d it go, son?” 

Kirk breathed through the lump in his throat and found his voice. “Not guilty.” The explosion of celebration from his crew, waiting for him in orbit, was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. Spock’s arm snaked around his waist as he closed his eyes. He leaned back against Spock’s chest, smiling, as Chekov shouted, “I knew it!” and Sulu said something quiet and cutting in response. The three of them basked in the raucous joy from the crew, and when they said their goodbyes, Kirk knew it was only for a little while longer. 

When they returned to the main room, Mira scooted away from Ellie and patted the couch between them. Kirk sat as commanded, and Mira immediately laid her head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and breathed in the smell of her hair. It wasn’t familiar; she was an adult now, one that he hadn’t seen in twenty years. But it was clean and vibrant, vaguely floral. It seemed right for her. 

“What are you thinking about, Jimmy?” Mira asked. Ellie tucked her feet under her and turned to look at them both. Kirk looked from one sister to the other, wrapped one arm around each, and squeezed them both to him. 

“That I am very, very grateful,” he said, voice low with emotion, “to have the chance to get to know you again.” Mira hummed in agreement, and they sat together for a few moments more. 

Then Mira said, “Your Mr. Spock is very handsome. Does he have a brother?” The surprised laugh that burst out of Kirk was too loud for the quieting room, and he tried and failed to stifle the rest of it in a fist. 

“You are too much,” he said. “And out of luck.” Mira frowned, mock-disappointed, but Amanda made a funny little ‘hmm’ noise and looked between Kirk and her son. She looked… amused? Benevolently annoyed? Spock, however, had replaced himself with a marble statue of a half-Vulcan and refused to meet Kirk’s eyes. Kirk looked between his mother-in-law and his husband, and remembered with a start their conversation about Michael Burnham.

“Honey.” 

“Captain.” 

Kirk jerked to his feet, displacing the twins. They giggled as they tumbled into each other. “Do you---” 

“I believe I am needed elsewhere,” Spock said, turned on his heel, and marched directly into the back garden. The room dissolved into howls of laughter behind him as Kirk chased him out into the night.

When the last of the food had been consumed, Sarek and Amanda had slipped away to their room, and Mira had fallen asleep on the arm of the couch like a child, Kirk’s family said their goodnights and goodbyes. 

“We won’t be leaving for a while yet,” Tommy said. “We’ll see you again.” 

“Please,” Kirk said, and hugged him firmly. Then he hugged Martha for good measure. An idea blossomed in the back of his mind, and he put it aside for later consideration as he hugged the twins and Kevin and watched them call aircars or walk back to where they were staying. Kirk and Spock watched from the doorstep until the silhouettes of his kids had been swallowed by the darkness and then shut the door behind them. They installed Bones and Ketoul in spare bedrooms. Then they crept through the now-silent house, through the backyard, and into the guesthouse they had inhabited for the past four months. Even in the dark, it was familiar and comforting to him; this was where he and Spock had built a life and a routine while he put himself back together. Part of his heart, he realized, would always be here on Vulcan, just as part of Spock’s was. 

Spock’s hand found his wrist and slid up his arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. There was electricity in his fingertips everywhere he met Kirk’s skin, as they scaled from the soft skin of his inner arm up to his shoulder, then over his neck. When Spock pulled him closer, Kirk met him halfway, mouth already opening to accept Spock’s. 

Against Spock’s lips he whispered, “Will you come somewhere with me?” 

Spock breathed, “Kwon-sum.” Always. Kirk pulled him by the hand to their bedroom, and Spock went willingly; then Kirk dropped his hand to pull out their running clothes and Spock’s eyebrow charted a doubtful course up his forehead. 

“Trust me,” he said, stepping into his tights. Spock’s dark eyes hungrily followed the lines of his exposed thighs, but he acquiesced, and when they had dressed he followed Kirk out into the Forge. 

They ran. They left ShiKahr far behind them until they were bathed solely in the light of T’Khut, the only sound their feet against the packed sand and the life of the desert around them. Kirk breathed in hard, relishing the burn in his lungs and the ache in his side, the sharp edges of the thin air against his throat. This was the desert where Spock had endured his kahs-wan, had lost I-Chaya, had come to meditate when he couldn’t bear to be in his parents’ house anymore. This was the desert where Spock had taken him when he had spent too much time in his mind, where he had spilled his secrets in the dark and then left them behind. 

Kirk slowed to a walk, catching his breath. Spock walked a few steps ahead of him, rolling his shoulders back, looking out over the Forge. Kirk admired Spock’s lanky frame in his tight running clothes, the span of his shoulders and the taper of his waist, the way the light sharpened the alien angles of his face.

Butterflies erupted in his stomach as he braced himself. He had only done this once before, and never imagined for a second what it would come to mean; he had stood across Spock in his quarters and asked him a question that would change both of them in ways that he never could have predicted. It had been strategic, then. It had only been means to an end. This time, it would be different. Everything was different because of the man who stood before him now. 

Kirk got down on one knee. 

“S’chn T’gai Spock,” he called. Spock turned. His eyes swept over Kirk where he knelt in the sand, and shock softened the shadows of his face. 

“Jim,” he said, and came closer. “What are you doing?” When he was close enough to touch, Kirk reached out and snagged Spock’s hand where it hung by his side. He cradled it in both of his own, smoothing his fingers over the lines of Spock’s palm, and pressed his lips to the back of Spock’s hand. T’Khut hung low in the sky, casting them both in shadow and light. 

“Taluhk nash-veh k’du,” Kirk said, and kissed Spock’s fingertips. “Will you take me as your bondmate?” Spock’s hand tightened around his, and he looked up: his husband looked back at him like he was more precious than water in the desert. Spock pulled him to his feet, one hand twining in his as the other came around his waist and pulled Kirk tightly to him. Spock’s heart thrummed in his side, and as he pressed their foreheads together, his eyes slid shut. Kirk wrapped his arms around his waist and swayed them, T’Khut the only witness to the dance.

“Yes. Ha, ashayam. Yes,” Spock said, and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him. 

[beardedmrbean]

LAS VEGAS (AP) — A Nevada judge was attacked Wednesday by a defendant in a felony battery case who leaped over a defense table and the judge's bench, landing atop her and sparking a bloody brawl involving court officials and attorneys, officials and witnesses said.

In a violent scene captured by courtroom video, Clark County District Judge Mary Kay Holthus fell back from her seat against a wall and suffered some injuries but was not hospitalized, courthouse officials said.

A courtroom marshal was also injured as he came to the judge’s aid and was hospitalized for treatment of a bleeding gash on his forehead and a dislocated shoulder, according to the officials and witnesses.

The attack occurred about 11 a.m. at the Regional Justice Center in Las Vegas.

The defendant, Deobra Delone Redden, 30, was wrestled to the floor behind the judge's bench by several court and jail officers and courtroom staff members — including some who are seen throwing punches.

He was arrested and jailed at the Clark County Detention Center, where records showed he faces multiple new felony charges including battery on a protected person — referring to the judge and court officers.

“It happened so fast it was hard to know what to do,” said Richard Scow, the chief county district attorney who prosecuted Redden on a case that stemmed from an arrest last year on allegations that Redden attacked a person with a baseball bat.

Redden’s defense attorney, Caesar Almase, did not respond to later telephone and email messages seeking comment.

Redden was not in custody when he arrived at court Wednesday. He wore a white shirt and dark pants as he stood next to Almase, asking the judge for leniency while describing himself as "a person who never stops trying to do the right thing no matter how hard it is.“

“I'm not a rebellious person,” he told the judge, later adding that he doesn't think he should be sent to prison. "But if it's appropriate for you then you have to do what you have to do.”

As the judge made it clear she intended to put him behind bars, and the court marshal moved to handcuff him, Redden yelled expletives and charged forward — amid screams from people who had been sitting with Redden in the courtroom audience.

Records showed that Redden, a Las Vegas resident, was evaluated and found mentally competent to stand trial before pleading guilty in November to a reduced charge of attempted battery causing substantial bodily harm. He previously served prison time in Nevada on a domestic battery conviction, state records show.

Holthus, a career prosecutor with more than 27 years of courthouse experience, was elected to the state court bench in 2018 and again in 2022.

In a statement, court spokesperson Mary Ann Price said officials were “reviewing all our protocols and will do whatever is necessary to protect the judiciary, the public and our employees.”

[kayetra-spade-queen]

Members Affiliated Worklines

Being a Shade isn't an end all be all for them, so I'm gonna list their affiliations here to give more depth in their characters.

If some seemed random to you, then that just means I am running out of ideas, or my imagination is really just that; random.

Kim:

Center Shades (I decided on this name for the group name-)

Global Justice

Jenny:

Center Shades

Nicktoons

Hollow Tech Line

Danny (damn, this man is busy af-):

Center Shades

Nicktoons

Infinite Realms

Fenton Works

House of Aurora

Jake:

Center Shades

Moon Rite Commission

Shrine of Wisdom

June:

Center Shades

Heart of Enchantment

Rex:

Center Shades

Soleil Theater

Providence

Zak:

Center Shades

Rosalyn Papers

Secret Scientists

Ben:

Center Shades

Omnique Rosula boutique

Plumbers

Randy:

Center Shades

Cour De La Soleil courthouse

Soleil Theater

Phénix Institute

Notes:

Hollow Tech Line is a technology workshop, ranging from technology repairs to making a brand new technology itself.

House of Aurora is an orphanage for lost young souls who met their fates far too early. The House is primarily focused on the care of the young souls that could never grow up, providing eternal care and support. Danny is the founder and current director of the House.

Moon Rite Commission is a hospital for magical beings from the Magical World. It could perform from the most basic medical talents, to performing magical spells and rituals for bigger effects.

Shrine of Wisdom houses Dragon Pearls; artifacts that is a vessel to knowledge and wisdom all shapes and sizes and of any kind. Usually heavily guarded so no one can take even a piece of the Pearls.

Soleil Theater is a branch under Cour De La Soleil courthouse. They appear when the courthouse turned into a performance stage than a courthouse itself.

Rosalyn Papers is a news hub, ranging from traditional newspapers to news broadcasts. The staffs consists of journalists that cover all sorts of topics, and their workline ranges from gossips to world-breaking news.

Omnique Rosula boutique is a fashion boutique founded by Ben. The styles are diverse, yet always appearing so eye-catching and unique even though Ben never made them to cater to trends or time; it's its own line. The boutique also had accessories handmade by Ben himself, even it looked like was made by a jewelry maker with how high quality and beautifully made the accessories are.

Cour De La Soleil courthouse is the prime court of all of France. The iudex in charge as well as the Primal of all iudex is Randy.

Phénix Institute is a shelter that branches into different sections; orphanage for children, women shelter, animal shelter, etc. Randy is the founder, and Theresa is the current director of the Institute.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Prompt: A and B try to figure out who can make the other person blush first/the hardest.

Pairing: RosieLemmons

[I didn't hit the prompt exactly, but I made them both blush a couple of times. Consider this a missing scene to There's a Part of You Always Standing By (Mapping Out a Sky.]

Robert tells Ken all about his family during the war. His parents live in a two-story house with his grandparents and his sister. Robert had only recently begun looking for his own apartment before he signed up for the war. Ken had smiled at his stories, liking how similar it sounded to his own life. Except he's from a farmhouse that looks off-center because rooms have been added as needed over the years. But he grew up with his parents and grandparents and siblings all in one house, too, so getting grabbed by the face by Rosie's mom the first time he meets her makes him beam. 

"Mrs. Rosenthal, it's a pleasure," he says. 

"It's Ma, and you know it," she says and shakes his face between her hands. "Oh, you're so cute my boy must have blushed like a new rose the first time he saw you."

"Ma," Robert groans.

"The photo doesn't do you a bit of justice," she adds, dropping her hands from Ken's face and ushering him to a wall of photos. On the wall in a shiny new frame is the photo Robert and Ken had taken after Robert had surprised him with the camera. Robert in his uniform, Ken in his coveralls. They look like themselves, Ken thinks, but he knows better not to say it. Mothers like to say things like how handsome you are when they meet you in person. 

"Well, it almost does Robert justice," Ken replies.

"You be quiet, too," Robert says and grabs for Ken's waist to pull him close. "I'll kiss you 'til you're pinker than me."

"Dare you," Ken murmurs as Ma laughs and walks out of the living room. 

Robert gives him an amused look, and drops a smacking kiss to his cheek. "You're more trouble now than on base, I think."

"Well, you married me, so you're stuck now," Ken replies and loves the way Robert looks at him, eyes soft and smile wide. 

"Oh, there you are!" Matilda shouts as she walks into the living room. She beams at Ken. "It's so nice to see you again!"

"You, too," Ken replies. 

"What about me?" Robert jokes. 

Matilda glances at him and shrugs. "You I've seen plenty," she says. 

Ken snickers when Robert squawks in faux-outrage and threatens to tickle her. Matilda threatens to pop him one, and Ken enjoys the show as they taunt each other while Matilda leads them both into the dining room. 

Robert's grandparents have serious faces that remind Ken of his granny, though they look different in every other way. He's never seen his granny in anything fancier than the dark blue dress she keeps for important events. She'd worn it to Ken's grandpa's funeral and also to his courthouse wedding to Robert a few weeks ago. The moment the guests had left the house after the post-wedding celebration, she'd changed into her usual faded floral dress and put her hair back into its long braid. 

Robert's grandparents, on the other hand, are wearing older clothes like his granny, but his grandmother is in pastels, and his grandfather in a clean, white shirt and dark green slacks. His grandmother's hair is set in a careful upknot, and his grandfather's hair is combed into a careful shape so his curls stay at the back of his head.

"This is Ken," Robert says to his grandparents. "Ken, my grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Matas Rosenthal."

"Lovely to meet you," Ken says, offering his hand to Robert's grandfather. He relaxes a little when Matas takes his hand without hesitation and gives it a good shake. 

"Robbie says you're going to keep working with your hands," Matas says. "That's good work."

"Thank you, Sir," Ken says. He glances at Robert's grandmother. She's smiling at him. "Ma'am," he says. 

"Camilla," she replies. "What did you work on before those big planes?"

"Farm equipment, mostly," Ken says as Robert leads him around the table and holds out a chair for him to sit.

"I worked on my family's farm as a girl," Camilla says. "I was very good with carburetors."

"A deft hand on sewing machines as well," Matas says. "That's how we met."

"I'd moved to the city to get better wages," Camilla says with an ease that tells Ken they've told this story many times. It makes him smile. "Matas created the patterns for the suits. I got into an argument with him one day about what fabric he wanted to use because I knew the machines couldn't handle it."

"I thought she was wrong," Matas picks up the story. "So, I made her prove it. The needle snapped halfway through the first seam, and the machine smoked as if to call me a fool."

"It made you see sense, and it took no time to fix," Camilla replies, patting his arm. "The screw on the arm had been pushed out by the force of the work. Common problem. I had it fixed in no time flat."

"And I was in love," Matas says, smiling at her. 

Ken glances at Robert and feels soft at how happy he looks watching his grandparents tell this story. "That's a great meeting," Ken says. "I was just up in some landing gear and Robert came to look at his fort."

"And then the most handsome man I'd ever seen jumped out, and I was in love," Robert replies. 

Camilla and Matas chuckle. "Oh, there's so many ways to fall in love," Matas says. "It took us a little more time."

There's the sound of the front door opening and closing, then a booming voice calls out, "Is this house suddenly empty?"

"Ken's finally here, Papa!" Matilda calls from the kitchen off of the dining room. 

"Oh, well, then I'll come to you!"

"He's this dramatic every evening and knew we were arriving today," Robert murmurs. 

"It's nice," Ken says. He leans against Robert as the younger Mr. Rosenthal walks into the room. He's wearing a nice suit and has a large mustache. His eyes are as blue as Robert's, but his is rounder. Robert pops up from the table to meet his father in a hug, and Ken likes how much they both smile. He stands up from his chair so he's prepared for proper introductions.

"Oh, welcome home again, my beautiful son" Mr. Rosenthal says to Robert. He pats Robert's cheek, then turns and kisses Ma as she walks over to him. "My beautiful wife," he says, then leans down to kiss Matilda on the top of her head. "My beautiful daughter." He walks over to his parents and kisses each of them on the cheek. "My beautiful parents." And then he stops a few feet from Ken and holds out his hand. "And my beautiful son."

"Sir," Ken replies, shaking his hand. "It's an honor."

"Johann," he says. "Or Papa."

"Ken or Kenny's fine by me," Ken says in reply. 

"Ken fits fine," Papa says. He pulls Ken into a one-armed hug and gives him a shake. "After dinner, I'm going to pull out some letters our Robbie sent and make sure you know how he loves you."

Ken laughs even as he feels a blush take over. "My sister did that to me," he says. "Made me sit there while Robert got an earful."

"It was great," Robert replies, and he's blushing, too. "I'm happy to return the experience."

"I already feel at home," Ken says because it's true. Robert's smile makes his own widen. "House full of good smells and everyone sitting down to dinner."

"You're after my mother's heart with talk like that," Papa says, giving Ken one more squeeze before he lets him go. "That's good. Family's important. Keeping it going and growing, that's worth all kinds of hard work."

"I agree," Ken says as he sits again. Robert sits next to him and leans over to kiss his cheek. "We didn't have a regular courtship, but I look forward to having a real happy marriage," Ken adds, which makes Robert duck his head. He takes Robert's hand and squeezes it gently. 

"You two did a lot of hard work to get here right now," Ma says as she walks into the room with a pitcher of water. "You got through more fear and sorrow and worry than some couples see in a lifetime."

"Lucky them," Camilla says, and Ken likes how she sounds truly glad some people have it easier. 

"An easy time is a lovely time, but weathering hard times and coming out together, that's what builds a family," Matilda says, clearly reciting something she's heard a lot. She's smiling. 

"My granny always says you gotta be in it together to get it through it in one piece," Ken replies. 

"Another similarity," Robert says, and Ken smiles at him, understanding what he means. They're so different on the surface, but in so many ways, they were brought up the same. 

"Lucky us," Ken says, and Robert nods in agreement.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

The Guardian:

Jury selection began on Monday in the federal gun case against the president’s son, Hunter Biden. The legal proceedings seriously complicate Joe Biden’s re-election campaign while handing political grist to Republicans searching for a distracting issue in the wake of Donald Trump’s 34-count conviction last week. In a show of support, Jill Biden, the first lady, also arrived at the federal courthouse in Delaware where her stepson is facing trial. In a statement, the president said that as a father he has “boundless love for my son, confidence in him, and respect for his strength”. Prosecutors allege that Hunter Biden lied about his drug use on application forms when he purchased a handgun in 2018, while in the throes of addiction. He has pleaded not guilty.

In theory, he could face a hefty jail sentence, but it is widely seen as highly unlikely. “I am the president, but I am also a dad,” Biden said, noting that he would not comment further on the case. The president’s youngest and only surviving son, Hunter Biden, has long struggled with drug addiction and a troubled private life, which is now at the center of the federal case. “Jill and I love our son, and we are so proud of the man he is today,” said Biden, known for his reputation as a close family man. “Hunter’s resilience in the face of adversity and the strength he has brought to his recovery are inspiring to us.” The president’s son has acknowledged being addicted to crack cocaine during that period in 2018, but his lawyers have said he didn’t break the law. In his memoir Beautiful Things, he described becoming consumed by drugs and alcohol after his older brother, Beau, died in 2015 at age 46 from brain cancer. The brothers were very close, having survived a car crash when they were young that killed their mother and baby sister.

[...] Republicans will no doubt be motivated by Trump’s host of legal travails. The former president seen as a lock to be the party’s 2024 nominee was found guilty last week of falsifying business records linked to hush-money payments to the adult film actor Stormy Daniels to cover up an affair that was seen as potentially harming his 2016 election prospects. Like Hunter Biden, Trump could face jail, though that also is seen as unlikely. The timing of the trial is unfortunate for Democrats, who are seeking to highlight Trump’s historic first of being the only US president to become a felon. But the case could also undermine one of Republicans’ key lines of attack against the guilty verdict returned by a New York jury last week: that Biden has weaponized the criminal justice system against Trump, a claim that lacks evidence.

Jury selection has begun in the Hunter Biden trial for federal gun violations.

[dragon-swords-prophecies]

NaNoWriMo 2023 Day 28: Herald At Dawn

***I'm doing half a nano (25k not 50k) cause I have too much other shit to do (school)***

Today's Word Count/Today's Goal Word Count: 843/835

Total Word Count: 23548/25k (94%)

Goal Word Count: 25k

Snippet:

The board set up, Alex stepped back and stared at it, then went over to her desk and rummaged in the top drawer for a few minutes, until she triumphantly emerged with a pair of scissors and a small bottle of paste, the fancy kind with a brush built into the lid, as well as some scraps of paper and a pencil. In bold letters she wrote GRAYSON ATKINSON on one scrap and pinned it up, and on another wrote JUSTICE ROBERT BROWN on the other, which she also pinned. Using the string, she wound a line between the pin on Atkinson’s paper to the pin on the center papers, and then the pin on Judge Brown’s paper. That was what connected them, that they had both been murdered. She connected them both to another paper labeled ‘COURTHOUSE’, and connected Grayson to one labeled ‘records of all cases’. The judge got a string running to ‘corrupt and easily bribe-able’, and another one when James walked by and mentioned, “Wasn’t he the one in your article about the Ekker case?” That paper read ‘Ekker trial’, and one ran to it labeled ‘the Belmonts’, though it was connected to neither man. Also connected to both of those was one labeled ‘Ekker trial article’.

Notes: CONSPIRACY RED STRING BOARD CONSPIRACY RED STRING BOARD CONSPIRACY RED STRONG BOARD!!!!!!! hi. Alex has a red string conspiracy board (well, not red string, but its the same thing really) and I love it. I am very tempted to make a version of it for myself, except the conspiracy board space on my wall currently has one for the city of mist campaign I'm in, so I don't really have the space. I might make one online or something, I'm not sure yet.

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @thelaughingstag @gr3y-heron @another-white-void @amethyst-aster

[letapollojusticesayfuck]

[PREV]

“What do you mean, you haven’t told the truth to anybody yet?” you demand, catching Wright by the shoulder as he turns to head into the courtroom. His eyes widen—he clearly hadn’t expected you to do that.

He recovers quickly, though. “I mean what I said. I haven’t told anybody the full truth of the matter.”

This is ridiculous. You feel anger, frustration, the morning’s nerves, all bubbling up into a hot, churning sensation inside you. Without consciously making the decision, you realize that you’ve grabbed both of Wright’s shoulders and are shaking him like you’re trying to re-fluff one of your cheap college-era pillows.

“Why can’t you just give me a clear answer? You’re under oath in there,” you manage to get out through gritted teeth. There’s hands on your arms—the courtroom guard is pulling you away from Wright. All the while, he’s still got that stupid half-smile on his face.

“Mr Justice, if you cannot compose yourself, you will be removed from this courthouse.” The guard bends down to look you in the eye. The patronizing tone to his words makes you want to fight back and get out of his grip, but you force yourself to take deep breaths and close your eyes, letting yourself re-center.

By the time you’re calm again, Wright is gone, presumably back at the witness stand. You’re left nearly alone in the defense lobby, with just the guard standing by you left. He gives you a cautious glance, and you sigh, straighten your tie, and trudge back into the courtroom.

Mr Gavin is waiting at the witness stand, checking his pretentious pocketwatch with disdain. “Three minutes late. I was beginning to think you’d decided to pursue other opportunities.” He regards you coolly, casting a critical eye over your slightly rumpled waistcoat.

“Sorry, Mr Gavin. I was…caught up in something.”

“Hm.” Your boss’ expression makes it clear that he’s aware of exactly what you were caught up in doing. Well, there goes any chance of getting a good reference for any future jobs.

The now-familiar sound of the judge’s gavel calls your attention to the front of the courtroom—Wright is there in the defendant’s place, of course, and Olga Orly appears to have regained consciousness and returned to the witness stand.

[askthechronoverse]

Unitron's Shining Jewel: Awntawp Correctional Center

The Awntawp Correctional Center is large and layered with multiple buildings that you need a higher and higher clearance for as you get deeper into the compound. It is said that the worst criminals in the galaxy are imprisoned here, with very little hope of parole. It is the pride and joy of the head of Unitron, Chief Starhawk.

There aren't too many prisoners in the ACC, but Starhawk is working on increasing the population via Operation: Clean Sweep. He felt that throughout history, governments were too lenient on high profile space criminals and criminals with near apocalyptic motives. Operation: Clean Sweep is his way of making sure that these people see justice, regardless of statute of limitations. By capturing these criminals under Unitron, he is able to try them under Unitron's stricter court system.

Once a Unitron criminal has been caught, everything is done in the ACC. There is a courthouse, as well as every other facility needed to house, not only the accused, but also their legal team and potentially family. ACC is very self sufficient, since they produce their own clothing and grow their own food. There is very little reason for somebody working there or living there to leave. There are very little fences or ways to deter a person from leaving. A major exception is a large barbed wire topped wall that separates ACC from the rest of the planet. This is by design. If someone were to break out, it is highly unlikely that they'd be able to find a ship and leave the planet. The ACC is the only game in town as far as civilization is concerned on the planet. There is very little traffic coming in and out of the planet as a result.

What doesn't help is the uniform of a ACC prisoner. It is a very bright color and easy to see the beige sands. In Systarian on various places is not only the name of the prisoner and their prisoner number, but a code that if scanned by a satphone will tell a person exactly what they're imprisoned for. It will also offer a decent monetary reward for their return as well as the number of their personal Unitron agent, known as a handler. If this uniform ever leaves the planet, it will send an alert to an outernet server that will send out a signal to every satphone in the galaxy that's connected to alert them that the prisoner has escaped. Escape is futile.

[musicfren]

Protests March 2nd (this Saturday). Mostly USA, some global

Albuquerque, New Mexico

11:00 a.m.

Tiguex Park

Sponsored by: SWC4P

Alfred, NY

3:00 p.m.

Corner of N Main St and Pine St.

Sponsored by: Cattaraugus-Allegany Liberation Collective

Angelica, NY

12:00 p.m.

Angelica Park Circle (37 Park Cir)

Sponsored by: Cattaraugus-Allegany Liberation Collective

Arequipa, Peru

2:00 p.m.

Plaza de Armas

Asheville, North Carolina

2:00 p.m.

Pack Square, N Pack Square

Sponsored by: PSL WNC, ANSWER Great Smoky Mountains, UNCA SDS, ETSU MSA, Unequolada

Atlanta, Georgia

1:00 p.m.

190 Marietta St NW (Intersection of Centennial Olympic Park Dr and Marietta St NW.)

Austin, Texas

1:00 p.m.

City Hall

Sponsored by: PSC and PYM

Baltimore, Maryland

2:00 p.m.

Baltimore City Hall

Sponsored by: Party for Socialism and Liberation, Baltimore Artists Against Apartheid, Hospitality for Humanity, The Banner of the People, Teachers & Researchers United, People's Power Assembly

Belmont, NY

1:30 p.m.

Belmont Park Circle (7 Park Circle)

Sponsored by: Cattaraugus-Allegany Liberation Collective

Boston, Massachusetts

1:00 p.m.

Cambridge City Hall

Contact: ANSWER Boston -- 857-334-5084 · boston@answercoalition.org 

Brainerd, Minnesota

1:00 p.m.

Intersection of Highways 210 and 371 -- Baxter, Minnesota (near Kohl's Department Store)

Sponsored by: Brainerd Area Coalition for Peace and Brainerd Lakes United Environmentalists (BACP-BLUE)

Boise, Idaho

4:00 p.m.

700 W Jefferson/Capitol Bldg

Sponsored by: Boise to Palestine

Burlington, Vermont

1:00 p.m.

622 Main St.

Calgary, Alberta

3:00 p.m.

Calgary City Hall

Sponsored by: Justice For Palestinians Calgary, Independent Jewish Voices, Calgary Palestinian Council

Caracas, Venezuela

9:30 a.m.

Sponsored by: Comuna el Panel 21, Brigada Internacionalista Alexis Castillo, Fuerza Patriótica Alexis Vive, Alba Movimientos Venezuela

Charlotte, North Carolina

3:00 p.m.

First Ward Park

Sponsored by: Party for Socialism and Liberation; Charlotte United for Palestine

Charlottesville, Virginia

4:00 p.m.

Free Speech Wall on the Downtown Mall

Sponsored by: SJP at PVCC

Champaign-Urbana, Illinois

2:00 p.m.

West Side Park (400 W University)

Cincinnati, Ohio

3:00 p.m.

City Hall (801 Plum St)

Sponsored by: PSL SW Ohio, PAL Awda Ohio, Students for Justice in Palestine UC, Ceasefire Now Covington, Coalition for Community Safety

Coatesville, Pennsylvania

11:30 a.m.

2nd and Lincoln Hwy

Chester County Liberation Center

Columbus, Ohio

3:00 p.m.

Goodale Park

Sponsored by: PSL Columbus, ANSWER, SJP OSU, PLM-JUST

Corner Brook, Newfoundland and Labrador

1:00 p.m.

Corner Brook Public Library (Courtyard)

Sponsored by: GCSU, CFS-NL

Cornwall, Ontario (Canada)

12:00 p.m.

691 Brookdale Avenue

Davis, California

1:00 p.m.

University of California Davis Memorial Union

Dayton, Ohio

12:00 p.m.

444 W 3rd St

Sponsored by: Party for Socialism & Liberation Southwest Ohio, Code Pink Miami Valley, Gem City Action, YS Uproar, S&F Volunteer Collective

Denver, Colorado

1:00 p.m.

400 Josephine St

Sponsored by: Colorado Palestine coalition, Denver PSL, Denver DSA, Denver Boulder JVP, DAWA, Denver SDS, Denver FRSO

Detroit, Michigan

2:00 p.m.

Hart Plaza

Sponsored by: USPCN, FRSO, SDS, SJP, PYM

Eastham, Massachusetts 

12:00 p.m.

In Front of the Windmill

Sponsored by: Cape Codders for Peace and Justice

Flagstaff, Arizona

6:00 p.m.

Heritage Square Downtown Flagstaff

Falmouth, Massachusetts 

1:00 p.m.

Falmouth Village Green

Sponsored by: Falmouth for Ceasefire Now

Havana, Cuba

8:00 a.m.

Sponsored by: Union of Young Communists, Women's Federation of Cuba

Fayetteville, Arkansas

12:00 p.m.

Wilson Park Gazebo

Sponsored by: Friends of Palestine NWA and Christian Voice for Peace

Fort Wayne, Indiana

2:00 p.m.

Allen County Courthouse

Fresno, California

4:00 p.m.

Blackstone & Nees Avenues

Sponsored by: Peace Fresno

Gainesville, Florida

1:00 p.m.

Corner of W University and NW 13th

Sponsored by: PSL

Geneseo, New York

1:00 p.m.

Corner of Main Street and Route 20A

Sponsored by: Genesee Valley Citizens for Peace, Chapter 23 Veterans for Peace

Grand Rapids, Michigan

2:00 p.m.

Monument Park

Sponsored by: Palestine Solidarity Grand Rapids

Hamilton, Ontario

2:00 p.m.

Dundas Driving Park, 71 Cross st

Houghton, NY

10:30 a.m.

9722 NY19

Sponsored by: Cattaraugus-Allegany Liberation Collective

Huntsville, Alabama

10:00 a.m.

Whitesburg Dr and Airport Rd

Sponsored by: North Alabama Peace Network

Indianapolis, Indiana

5:00 p.m.

Indiana State House East Steps

Sponsored by: ANSWER Indiana, Jewish Voice for Peace, Students for Justice in Palestine – Butler, PSL Indianapolis, the Middle Eastern Student Association at IUPUI

Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts 

1:00 p.m.

Cambridge City Hall

Joshua Tree, California

10:30 a.m.

Downtown Joshua Tree (Corner of 62 and Park Boulevard)

Sponsored by: Morongo Basin Resistance

Kansas City, Missouri

3:00 p.m.

Mill Creek Park, 47th Mill Creek Pkwy

Sponsored by: Al-HadafKC, Free Palestine KC, PSL MO

Kingman, Arizona

10:00 a.m.

120 W Andy Devine Ave (Meet at the Route 66 Sign)

Sponsored by: Alohaproj.com

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

2:00 p.m.

Sponsored by: Sekretariat Solidariti Palestin

Lander, Wyoming 

8:00 a.m.

Centennial Park

Sponsored by: Fremont County for Ceasefire Now!

Las Cruces, New Mexico

11:00 a.m.

Downtown Plaza

Sponsored by: Las Cruces PSL, Telegram group, NMSU Students for Socialism

Las Vegas, Nevada

2:00 p.m.

3449 s Sammy Davis Jr dr

Sponsored by: Npl_palestine and fifthsunproject

Los Angeles, California

1:00 p.m.

Los Angeles City Hall (200 N Spring St)

Manchester, New Hampshire

4:00 p.m.

Manchester City Hall Plaza

Martinsburg, West Virginia

11:00 a.m.

Martinsburg Town Square

Sponsored by: PSL

Memphis, Tennessee 

1:00 p.m.

Corner of Ridgeway Road and Poplar Avenue

Sponsored by: Palestinian Association Community Center

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

1:30 p.m.

Zillman Park (2168 Kinnickinnic Ave)

Sponsored by: PSL Milwaukee, Milwaukee 4 Palestine

Mineral Point, Wisconsin

10:30 a.m.

State Street at the Capitol

Sponsored by: Poor People's Campaign

Nanaimo, British Columbia (Canada)

2:15 p.m.

Maffeo Sutton Park

Sponsored by: VIU Muslim Women Club

Nashville, Tennessee

4:00 p.m.

1 Public Square

Sponsored by: Inspire Youth Foundation supported by PSL Nashville

New Orleans, Louisiana

4:00 p.m.

Jackson Square

Sponsored by: New Orleans For Palestine, JVP New Orleans, PSL Louisiana

New Paltz, New York

12:30 p.m.

93 Main Street

Sponsored by: Women in Black

New York City, New York

1:00 p.m.

Washington Square Park

Sponsored by: Nodutdol, Black Alliance for Peace, No Tech for Apartheid, Audre Lorde Project, Ridgewood Tenants Union, Uptown 4 Palestine, DRUM NYC, Anakbayan, Bayan, Mamas 4 a Free Palestine, Healthcare Workers for Palestine, Party for Socialism and Liberation, Jews Against White Supremacy, Defend Democracy in Brazil, Al-Awda NY, NYC Dissenters, South Asian Left, Columbia University SJP, Columbia University Apartheid Divest, CUMC for Palestine, Black Men Build, UAW Labor for Palestine, Labor for Palestine, NYC City Workers for Palestine

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

1:00 p.m.

Corner of Robinson and Hudson near the Skydance Bridge

Sponsored by: Oklahomans Against Occupation

Olean, NY

8:30 a.m.

Lincoln Park

Sponsored by: Cattaraugus-Allegany Liberation Collective

Peterborough, Ontario

4:00 p.m.

Confederation Square

Sponsored by: Nogojiwanong Palestine Solidarity

Pensacola, Florida

2:00 p.m.

Main and Reus St.

Sponsored by: PSL, Answer, Panhandle for Freedom and Justice in Palestine, Mobile for Palestine

Phoenix, Arizona

6:00 p.m.

Arizona State Capitol

Sponsored by: PSL

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

2:00 p.m.

City Hall

Sponsored by: Party for Socialism and Liberation, ANSWER Philly, Philly Boricuas, Malcolm X Grassroots Movement, Jefferson University SJP, Philly Liberation Center, AMP Philadelphia, Philadelphians of Palestine, Black Alliance for Peace

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

11:00 a.m.

William S Moorehead Federal Building (1100 Liberty Ave)

Contact: ANSWER Pittsburgh -- pittsburgh@answercoalition.org

Pompano Beach, Florida

1:00 p.m.

1641 NW 15th ST -- Pompano Beach, FL 33069

Sponsored by: Al-Awda, JVP, SJP @ FIU

Portsmouth, New Hampshire

1:00 p.m.

Market Square

Sponsored by: Occupy Seacoast

Port Angeles, Washington

12:00 p.m.

Clallam County Courthouse at 4th & Lincoln St

Sponsored by: FSP, PSL

Portland, Maine

1:00 p.m.

Longfellow Square

Sponsored by: Maine Students for Palestine, Maine Coalition for Palestine

Portland, Oregon

1:00 p.m.

Lownsdale Square

Sponsored: Party for Socialism & Liberation, ANSWER, Oregon to Palestine Coalition, Portland DSA, Entifada PDX

Providence, Rhode Island

1:00 p.m.

World War 1 Memorial, Memorial Park, South Main st.

Sponsored by: PSL RI, Brown Grad labor Organization, JVP RI, Palestinian Feminist Collective, Falsteeni Diaspora United, SURJ RI, RI Antiwar committee 

Raleigh, North Carolina

3:00 p.m.

201 S Blount St Raleigh, NC 27601

Sponsored by: Refund Raleigh, Migrant Roots Media, Party for Socialism and Liberation, Muslims For Social Justice, Democratic Socialists of America, Muslim Women For, Jewish Voices for Peace, NC Green Party, Peoples Power Lab, NC Environmental Justice Network, PAX Christi Triangle NC

Richland, Washington

1:00 p.m.

John Dam Plaza

Sponsored: Party for Socialism and Liberation - Eastern Washington

Rochester, New York

1:00 p.m.

Rochester City Hall

Sponsored: FTP ROC, Coalition to End Apartheid, ROC DSA, JVP, U of R SJP, ROC Voices for Palestine

Salt Lake City, Utah

1:00 p.m.

Sugar House Park

Sponsored by: Palestinian Solidarity Association of Utah, PSL Salt Lake, Mecha de U Of U

San Antonio, Texas

2:00 p.m.

Municipal Plaza Building (114 W Commerce St.)

Sponsored by: Party for Socialism and Liberation

San Diego, California

ANSWER San Diego -- (619) 487-0977

San Juan, Puerto Rico

12:00 p.m.

El Morro

Sponsored by: Boricua Con Palestina

Santa Barbara, California

11:00 a.m.o

Pershing Park

Sponsored by: Central Coast Antiwar Coalition

San Francisco, California

2:00 p.m.

Harry Bridges Plaza

Sponsored by: Palestinian Youth Movement, ANSWER Coalition, American Muslims for Palestine, US Palestinian Community Network, Muslim American Society, Council on American-Islamic Relations, Party for Socialism and Liberation, Islamophobia Studies Center, Oakland Educators for Palestine, International Jewish Anti-Zionist Network, Northern California Islamic Council, Jewish Voice for Peace Bay Area, Islamic Circle of North America, United Educators of San Francisco, Do No Harm Coalition, Arab Resource & Organizing Center, Workers World Party, Palestinian Feminist Collective, QUIT, Labor for Palestine, Students for Justice in Palestine, Healthcare Workers for Palestine, Democratic Socialist of America - San Francisco, Union Nurses for Palestine, Friends of the Filipino People in Struggle, Democratic Socialists of America East Bay

Savannah, Georgia 

2:00 p.m.

Springfield City Hall and Senator Warren's Office

Sponsored by: Western MA Coalition for Palestine, Western MA Showing Up for Racial Justice, Northampton Abolition Now, Demilitarize Western MA, Amherst for Palestine, Community Alliance for Peace and Justice, Islamic Society of Western MA, Code Pink

Seattle, Washington

1:00 p.m.

Denny Park

Sponsored by: PYM, PSL, ANSWER, SPV Endorsers: Samidoun, Healthcare Workers for Palestine, South Asians Resisting Imperialism, SUPERUW, Falastiniyat, FGLL, Tacoma DSA, SU SJP, MSA UW, ASA UW, BAYAN, Somali Student Association, NOTA

Seoul, South Korea

3:00 p.m.

Sponsored by: International Strategy Center

Spokane, Washington

Details TBA

Springfield, Massachusetts 

2:00 p.m.

Springfield City Hall and Senator Warren's Office

Sponsored by: Western MA Coalition for Palestine, Western MA Showing Up for Racial Justice, Northampton Abolition Now, Demilitarize Western MA, Amherst for Palestine, Community Alliance for Peace and Justice, Islamic Society of Western MA, Code Pink

Springfield, Missouri 

12:00 p.m.

Park Central Square

St. Louis, Missouri

2:00 p.m.

Kiener Plaza - 500 Chestnut St

Sponsored by: Party for Socialism and Liberation, Voices of Palestine Network, American Muslims for Palestine

Syracuse, New York

1:00 p.m.

Clinton Square

Sponsored by: PSL - Syrcause

Tallahassee, Florida

12:00 p.m.

Sidewalks in front of Florida State Capitol Building

Sponsored by: Revolt Collective (rev0ltcollective on Instagram)

Taos, New Mexico

11:00 a.m.

Outreach/petitioning event, contact Suzie at 575-770-2629

Sponsored by: Taoseños for Peaceful and Livable Futures

Tillamook, Oregon

1:00 p.m.

1st and Main

Sponsored by: Racial and Social Equity Tillamook

Tri-Cities, Washington

Details TBA

Tokyo, Japan

2:00 p.m.

Shinjuku Station South Exit

Sponsored by: Palestinians of Japan

Toledo, Ohio

1:00 p.m.

Franklin Park Mall: Starting location is the corner of Sylvania and Talmadge

Sponsored by: American Muslims for Palestine (AMP) and Toledo 4 Palestine (T4P)

Troy, New York

11:00 a.m.

3rd & Fulton

Sponsored by: Troy 4 Black Lives

Tucson, Arizona

5:00 p.m.

Catalina Park (941 N. Fourth Ave.)

Sponsored by: Arizona Palestine Solidarity Alliance

Tulsa, Oklahoma

1:00 p.m.

Yale Ave and Admiral Place

Sponsored by: Oklahomans Against Occupation

Ventura, California

1:00 p.m.

Oxnard City Hall

Victorville, California

1:00 p.m.

9700 Seventh Ave.

Sponsored by: Arizona Palestine Solidarity Alliance

Wailuku/Kahulu

3:00 p.m.

March from Wailuku Safeway to Queen Kaahumanu Center

Sponsored by: Maui for Palestine, Hawaii for Palestine, Rise for Palestine, Citizens for Peace, Kauai for Palestine, Kona for Palestine

Washington, D.C.

1:00 p.m.

Israeli Embassy (3514 International Dr NW)

Sponsored by: PYM, MD2Palestine, ANSWER 

Waukegan, Illinois

1:00 p.m.

Jack Benny Plaza (corner of Genesee and Clayton)

Sponsored by: PSL Waukegan

Wellfleet, Massachusetts 

10:00 a.m.

Town Hall Lawn

Sponsored by: Cape Codders for Peace and Justice

[beardedmrbean]

A local artist organized a silent social justice walk in Sacramento, California, on Saturday to raise awareness about anti-Asian hate and the history of systemic discrimination against the Asian and Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) communities.

Nearly 200 people, from community members to representatives from 40 local AAPI organizations, such as the Adult Buddhist Association, Asian American Liberation Network and the Chinese American Council of Sacramento, attended the "Right On!" social justice art walk, a civil rights project inspired by the Black Lives Matter movement and further pressed by the surge of anti-Asian hate crimes amid the COVID-19 pandemic.

California saw the most reported cases of anti-Asian hate crimes between March 2020 and March 2022. From a total of 11,000 cases reported nationwide, the state has the highest number of incidents at over 4,300, followed by New York with 1,840 cases, according to the latest data from the non-profit group Stop AAPI Hate.

Developed by local artist Angie Eng in partnership with Jason Jong, a Sacramento percussionist and recent recipient of the Sacramento Bee AAPI Change Makers award, the procession started in front of the Robert T. Matsui United States Courthouse at the corner of Fifth Street and I Street, according to a press release.

Participants wore black shirts with dates highlighting significant Supreme Court case rulings that targeted community members based on their class, race, ethnicity, gender or abilities.

QR codes taped on the back of participants’ shirts would bring scanners to a website describing each court decision.

From the courthouse, "Right On!" participants walked through downtown to Capitol Mall, stopping at every block to showcase their shirts. They then returned to the Robert T. Matsui United States Courthouse, where they ended the silent civil rights exhibition.

The recent gathering was similar to an art project that Eng organized in Boulder, Colorado, in October 2022, commissioned by the Stop Asian Hate initiative of the Center of Humanities at the University of Colorado, Boulder.

Speaking to ABC10, Eng said her affinity for art began when she was 8, attributing her passion to her family.

"In the family, in our genes, we are not doctors, we are artists," Eng explained. "When I was 8, people labeled me an artist before I even created or designed. It was almost like fate that I became an artist and chose that path."

More than 20 years later, Eng has continued to use art to raise awareness of social causes and injustices.

"In a crisis moment, I think that's when art is most powerful," she said. "What we can do is look back on our history, and trace how in our history, we do have discrimination and racism. And, then we can educate ourselves and the community on the source of hate and violence."

[a-drabble-a-dray]

“The establishment of permanent curfews.” The voice echoed throughout the courthouse.

The judge stumbled into a sprint, lost in the maze of corridors after the blackout.

“Solidifying a state religion.” The voice seemed always close, regardless of location.

The judge finally recognized the path to the exit, through a nearby courtroom.

“And, of course, making any form of violent intent legally prosecutable.” The voice seemed distant enough.

The doors opened to a room full of bodies, drained into desiccation. At the center, a figure stood, pristine, reviewing the recently passed laws.

“I’ve been rather inconvenienced, here. Consider this ‘justice’, then.”

[worldofwardcraft]

Live Republican or die.

December 25, 2023

In its landmark 2019 decision in Rucho v. Common Cause, the US Supreme Court ruled 5-4 (with the usual Federalist Society hacks in the majority) that federal courts have no jurisdiction to decide whether a state's election maps are designed to give one party an illegal advantage. But not to worry, wrote Chief Justice John Roberts, this does not "condemn complaints about districting to echo into a void,” because we can depend on the states “actively addressing the issue.” Sure we can. Let's see how the state of New Hampshire is addressing it.

Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, New Hampshire voters elected mostly Republicans. But this changed in 1992 when they started voting for Democrats. Since then, the state has swung back and forth and is nowadays considered a purple swing state. At present, its two congressional representatives and both US senators are Democrats. However, New Hampshire's current governor (Chris Sununu), attorney general and secretary of state are all Republicans. The GOP also won control of the state legislature in 2020. And here's where the problem begins.

Upon gaining dominance over the state government following the decennial census, New Hampshire Republicans proceeded to cement their advantage by gerrymandering legislative districts to create more Republican-leaning seats. It should also be noted Sununu previously vetoed two bipartisan bills that would have created an independent commission to redraw the maps.

As a result, The New Hampshire Center for Public Interest Journalism, reporting on the 2022 state House and Senate races, concluded: "Democratic candidates received more [total] votes than their Republican counterparts, but will still be in the minority."

A lawsuit was duly launched and appealed to the New Hampshire Supreme Court, which includes three Sununu-appointed justices. And last December, the court ruled 3-2 (with the governor's trio forming the majority) to leave in place the GOP gerrymanders signed into law by Sununu. Which likely locks in the Party’s structural advantage in New Hampshire through the 2030s.

The court said the plaintiffs should get state lawmakers to pass redistricting reform. But that's never going to happen since the New Hampshire legislature is already gerrymandered. It's a circular dynamic that leaves New Hampshire voters with no recourse, given that the state's high court decided it couldn’t intervene. And, by the way, the New Hampshire Supreme Court issued a ruling in 1999 barring statewide referendum initiatives, too.

Says UNH law professor John Greabe, “The courthouse doors are shut. Both the federal courthouse doors and the state courthouse doors now.” Meanwhile, democracy in the red-ruled states continues to perish.