[Pioneer Dominique Reynolds]
I hadn’t really understood the scale of this trial until actually seeing the “courthouse” for myself. I thought I would be sent to planetside and be judged in the Grahtonian’s analogue for the supreme court, not realizing that an ambassador of a new race being accused of killing thousands of military personnel would garner galaxy-wide attention.
The actual galactic courthouse was a dedicated space station in a central ceasefire zone where conventions and treaties were ratified. The station being used to house an actual trial for just one person was unprecedented, and there were dozens of races that came in their own ships, staying in close-comms range of the station and peering in from the massive glass dome that made up the top half.
The trial was going to be broadcasted to the far ends of the galaxy. If there were any other pioneers that happened to land on one of the sentient races here, they’d surely be punching air thinking that I royally fucked up humanity’s first impressions. The Grahtonians had given me an attorney by law, and he and I were working towards taking as much blame as possible away from the humans, but it was still guaranteed that I’d end up in jail.
The jury was hundreds, maybe even thousands of Grahtonians as well as a sprinkling of other races I didn’t have the time to look at. The scale of this jury meant the sentence wouldn’t be via unanimous decision, but by a large majority percentage. It seemed like Grahtonian families were expansive, so I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the jury had beef with me, nor would I fault anyone for it. I was under no illusion that there were people on my side, Destra had already told me that they couldn’t afford to support me.
All this fanfare and the cards were stacked so high against me, I'd imagine a lot of people watching would be disappointed when the biggest trial in history would wrap up in less than a day. I had already surrendered the notion of getting out of this with no consequences, so there really wasn’t much to be said outside of driving the point home on just how terrible everything was.
The Grand Judge was a Grahtonian since the court was adopting their laws for this trial, but he was unlike any other Grahtonian I’d seen before. I got an explanation on how those in the military shave their horns short and civilians have regulations to keep the total mass under a certain amount, but the Nobles are unregulated and tend to go wild with flaunting that freedom. The judge had massive, tightly packed coils of keratin jutting to the sides of her head, spanning almost a foot in diameter at the thickest part.
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The room, if you could call it that, was absolutely massive. I had to use vision enhancement to properly see the judge, and scanning around I also saw Indrix and the admiral talking to a couple attorneys before the commencement. I was pretty terrible with lawyer-talk, so I was going to let my attorney do most of the talking and I would just be giving the testimony we’d planned. Massive screens came down on a pole from the ceiling, displaying a live video feed of whichever participant was talking, and then the judge began her deluge of court proceedings.
“The galaxy bears witness to this hearing, sponsored by the Grand Grahtonian Federation and Galactic Coalition on the case of Human Pioneer Dominique Reynolds versus the Grahtonian combined military forces and offworld expeditionary-”
zzzz...
“and will now be hearing the testimony of one of the only live witnesses, Grahtonian Captain Indrix Jaen.”
zzZZ-grHK~
Shit! Uh, chemical organ, stimulant dose! No, not adrenaline you idiot! Caffeine! Tch-
…
Man, wish I still had an AI…
________________
[Mother]
I fear the worst for my children.
The arrival of the news caused them to feel stress for the first time. Some have been discovered by the humans here, exacerbating the situation.
They give voice to their worries, consulting their flawed predictions, and argue amongst themselves.
They ask me for advice, and cry out when I do not respond to them, claiming that I play favorites amongst them.
I haven’t told them that I am nearing my expiration, and now even speaking will result in my dematerialization. I wish to help them, provide them with one last piece of advice, but there is no string of words I could say in time that would make a difference before I vanish.
I stare out from my panopticon onto the clamoring children. They will not notice when I fade, though the lack of new children may eventually clue them in.
I see those that will turn against the humans, unerred by their fascination being unrelated, valuing their self-preservation. I see some that will side with the humans, either out of prioritizing their love over their life, or seeing them as the winning side and acting accordingly.
No mother could bear to witness her children killing each other, unable to scream out and plead that they stop.
Maybe my fading is a mercy in disguise?