Faction The People v. Lysander von Asacania

[Verity Stuyveris]

LOCATION

THE HIGH REPUBLIC HALL OF JUSTICE

COURTROOM 2

MORNING

♫ GROCER'S DAUGHTER — THOMAS NEWMAN

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The High Republic Hall of Justice was an exemplar of Theed architecture: golden stone topped with a great green domed roof, with five other smaller domed circular structures arrayed around its perimeter. The atrium was packed with observers and the press as Verity Stuyveris entered with the other members of the prosecution, with members of the press straining at the barriers that had been erected, calling questions, asking about whether she thought the Republic would win this case.

Verity ignored them, her glacial demeanor resisting the thaw. Of course, she wanted to exude an air of confidence, and realistically this should be an open-and-shut case, but there was no telling with Sith. They had their fingers in all kinds of pies, and though great efforts had been taken to keep the judge's and the jurors' identities secret ahead of the trial for safety purposes, it was difficult to guarantee anything in a pluralistic democracy such as this one.

So she didn't make promises that she couldn't keep.

She went through the extensive security process, shucking her blazer, her earrings, a bracelet, and her Senate lapel pin, tucking the jewelry into her handbag before putting it through the security scan. A few minutes later, she was entering Courtroom 3. She set her briefcase on the table and snapped it open to retrieve some documents and notes, and made chitchat with her second- and third-chairs. They were more seasoned attorneys, with an extensive practice record. Verity had been asked by the Attorney General to stand in. Something about her prosecutorial nature and effective communication style.

The reality was that there were significant concerns for anyone involved in prosecuting this case. Verity Stuyveris had already poked the Sith Covenant in the eye in every conceivable way -- publicly, rhetorically, legislatively, and very nearly literally during her encounter with Mercy -- and lived to tell the tale. Thus, it seemed wise not to expose anyone else to the risk when the Senator had so ably placed herself in danger of her own volition.

Faced with the request, Verity had felt like a rat in a trap, but on further reflection and now, in the glare of the lights, she had to concede perhaps she was instead -- the cheese.

Conversations went on in a hush. The defendant was escorted in. Verity had insisted that Lysander von Ascania not be trussed up and wheeled in in restraints on the theory that it would prejudice the jury. Her eyes lingered on his hair momentarily before she turned back toward her co-counsel. "That's... a choice," she murmured to second-chair with a wry smirk; the other two attorneys chuckled under their breath, grateful for the sarcasm to cut the tension.

It didn't work.

The Bailiff stepped forward and called, "The court will come to order. All rise for the honorable Judge Avara Bel'kor." An older Bothan woman with a silvering russet coat, carefully groomed facial fur, and a pair of spectacles perched on her snout entered. A respected institutionalist by reputation, she was understood to be methodical, politically difficult to categorize, and fiercely protective of judicial independence.

"Good morning," she announced, her voice gravelly. "You may be seated. The court does call the case of the People v. Lysander von Ascania. I will take appearances for the record. People?"

Verity stood effortlessly. "Verity Stuyveris for the People, Your Honor."

"Defense?" The Bothan looked across the court room to Lysander's table.

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WITH

Lysander von Ascania • @Other Interested Parties

 

[Astra Sadow]

"Astra Sadow representing my client Lysander von Ascania , Your Honor." Dressed in an expertly tailored, black suit with an equally black tie, her burnt golden eyes met those of the Judge with her chin high and shoulders squared. Being in this place was no great concern of her's. They had nothing on which to charge her. Oh, the intelligence community might grumble otherwise, but a Republic couldn't go around baselessly accusing people, could it?

Speaking of which, she spared a sidelong look at Verity Stuyveris . Kind of her to 'insist' on Lysander not being wheeled in strapped down like some sort of wild animal. Astra might have had quite a bit of fun at their expense over such a thing. So, a woman able to keep her baser desires in check. Not a fool selected at random for a show trial? Should keep things interesting.

She leaned in Lysander's direction to whisper -- confer -- with her client, "You've settled on your plea?" A smirk pulled at her lips. Somehow, Astra got the impression the man was going to be quite the troublemaker in court. Hopefully he'd be kind enough to know when the court's patience was reached and to step back.

Lysander von Ascania | Verity Stuyveris​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow Verity Stuyveris Aurelian Veruna Danger Arceneau Sophelia Ardemark Corazona von Ascania | Open​

Time stopped announcing itself as days; Lysander’s mornings came and went to the sound of boots against durasteel and inspections. Jakku might as well have been eons past. Just a chapter the galaxy flipped through without so much a glance in his direction. Nothing to authorize, no envoy duties, not even a command roster. Solitude, once his chosen weapon, felt like chains here.

In every dark corner of his mind, the faces he trusted crowded in. Naniti, Varin, A’Mia, Meya. There were so many. Memories stalked him until sleep fled. Were they alive? Had the others escaped that dust-choked hell? Even Luciana drifted through his thoughts, a niece he barely knew. Did Acier writhe in a reflection of this same cage? Was Cora cursing his name between prayers? The unanswered questions cut deeper with every passing hour.

Years spent clawing through the Black Wall for freedom, only to realize the universe never really lets you leave. Now every choice was part of a script written by strangers. Lysander believed he was beginning to watch his own funeral.

There was once a time when doors opened because he carried authority. Now they only opened because someone else had the code.

Then the cell doors opened; the world became.. painfully real. Two marshals stood waiting. Force-dampening binders were cinched tightly. Not a single word passed between them. Gone were the Sith blacks, the pretense of power. He’d been stripped down to a prisoner’s tunic. That familiar fear that typically radiated off sentient beings in his presence was nowhere to be found.

Stepping into the courtroom, the blonde's vision blurred beneath the onslaught of stares. Amid the swirl, his gaze snapped to Verity. That face landed like a punch to the gut, yanking him back to their debate at Summer Palace and the volley of short-lived letters that followed.

Once escorted to the defense table, the bailiff soon called the room to order.

Leaning closer to Astra, warmth returned in the form of a smile for the first time in weeks. "Not guilty, yes,” the words barely cleared his teeth. “You almost sound worried, Astra," Pleasantries never stood a chance with them; their conversations always drifted toward philosophy. There seemed little sense in breaking the habit now. "The plea isn't an escape, it's just.. the first sentence of whatever comes next." The levity eased him more than he expected.