Chapter Seven: Trial By Fire
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Oured, Osea.
June 15th, 2019.
1400hrs.
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Naomi wasn't entirely sure what she thought about her new 'friends'. On one hand, she'd admired the Razgriz's flying ability when she learned about the Circum-Pacific War in school and they'd watched a documentary on it. Osea wasted no time in updating the history books after the war, so high school had actually interesting things to learn about, in her opinion. However, they seemed so used to secrecy, likely due to them being forced the build their lives around a lie to protect themselves, and it made Naomi question them and their whereabouts while they were off trying to help her.
After just a few days, she started seeing less of Kathryn and Genette. Hans visited with her father just to keep her mind off of her upcoming trial and what would likely be the verdict. According to the attorney they'd provided her with, they were likely looking at a dishonorable discharge and a life sentence. No surprise there, but the other option was even more unpleasant. A possible death penalty was also placed on the table. After that, her father typically told her stories of his own time during war, with Hans telling a story or two as well, just to get her to worry about something else besides possibly dying for something she didn't do.
Clown and Knocker still came by as well, not sparing her from the bad news. They told it all like it was, with some reassurance thrown in. Clown was helping Genette and Kathryn track down some people to get a couple of alternatives, but he wasn't saying what it was. Her trial was starting in a day, and they'd give them at least three days to prove her innocence or give a reason as to why she shouldn't be discharged. Usually, a general court-martial would have taken much longer, but they were at war and were determined to get it over and done with so they could move on with their lives and get on with more pressing matters.
Overall, her time in this temporary prison wasn't too bad. There were only a few other female prisoners there, and they were all in on minor infractions, so Naomi spent her nights in a cell by herself. At breakfast time, the women and men were separated at tables and they would eat their food in silence. Naomi never got included on the conversation, and any attempt to join was met by them simply ignoring her, so she gave up trying to make friends on the second day she was there. After lunch they were allowed an hour of exercise in the yard or gym with time to show after and then visitation hours started and ran until 1700. The guards were friendlier than she expected and a lot of the other prisoners only refused to associate with her because they thought she was a murderer.
The highlight of her day was actually visitation, even if it did involve a bit more stress than she'd have liked. Though spending some time with a punching bag in the gym wasn't too bad, either. They gave her a surprising amount of freedom. Sure, a guard was watching them at all times, paying extra close attention to anything Naomi did, but they didn't treat her badly and nobody tried to rough her up or get fresh with her. It probably had something to do with the fact that she stayed on her best behavior. She didn't think she had a rebellious streak and she wasn't starting one now that her life and career was hanging by a thread.
As visitation began, she was taken out of the gym by the guards and taken downstairs for visitation. Since Clown and Knocker and Hans and her dad had been taking turns visiting each day, she was expecting her commanding officers when she was cuffed to one of the tables and left to wait, but she was surprised when Kathryn and Genette entered the room. She narrowed her eyes, then leaned back in her seat to get as comfortable as she could. "I figured the two of you would still be on your wild goose chase," Naomi said as they sat down at the table, right across from her. "No offense, I don't exactly have a lot of faith this will work."
"Well, maybe we can fill you in on some information that'll change your mind," Kathryn replied with a smile. She turned to Genette, "I'll let you take it from here."
Genette nodded and turned back to Naomi. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and set it on the table before he began his explanation. "We got some information from General Perrault and a couple of other people in the top brass and as promised we found an alternative to the other outcomes of your trial. It's not glamorous by any means and it might be a challenge to adjust to, but it'll keep you in the air and give you a way to redeem yourself. In a way. You'll still be serving Osea, at least."
Naomi eyed the paper curiously, but she couldn't exactly reach forward and open it. "Well...I'll take anything at this point. Just what kind of place are you talking about, here?" Kathryn hesitated, unfolding the paper and sliding it forward so she could read it. There were notes that Genette had apparently taken for reference, and after skimming over them, Naomi found herself slightly worried. "You're kidding me, right? I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but that sounds like a shitty alternative. I might as well just be dishonorably discharged and locked away."
"It's not the best one the OADF has got, but unfortunately, this is the only penal unit that's requested new pilots." Kathryn explained calmly, giving the paper back to Genette once Naomi was finished with it. "Zapland is a secure place for the most part, but the Erusean's have been bombing them more and more lately. Tyler Island has a stronger squadron and most of the pilots are more experienced than the ones at the 444th. At the start of the month they lost two of their pilots in the last run and their base commander sent in a request for some replacements. The squadron was thrown together on a whim, but Perrault was surprisingly willing to give us a look at the roster and it looks...well...unique."
"I'm not exactly looking for 'unique'," Naomi sighed. "But really, what other choices do I have? Is there any way you could convince them to go this route?"
"Yes, actually," Genette replied. "It's not exactly a sure-fire way to sway them in that direction, but if during your trial we can convince the judge that they could still use your capabilities in war and to carry out missions, then we might be able to send you to the 444th. It isn't going to be a walk in the park if we manage it, and the penal units are usually used to reform the prisoners as well as to send them off to fight, so I'd start preparing myself for a pretty strict leadership in case we succeed."
"Does my dad know about this? What about Knocker or Clown?" Naomi asked. She didn't have a lot of questions. Really, she was just happy they'd found a solution, even if it wasn't the best option in the world. If it worked, it would still keep her in the air and defending her home.
"We went over it with them this morning before we came out here," Kathryn said with a nod. "Knocker and your father aren't exactly thrilled with the idea, but they want to help in any way they can. This was the only idea we could come up with, and while none of us are fans of the penal units and using prisoners as pawns, we don't really have any other tricks up our sleeves." Naomi watched as the older woman pressed her fingers to her temple, looking tired. "I just hope this works. We may not know you that well, but I'd hate to see you punished for something you didn't do."
At first, Naomi wanted to challenge her. She was being punished for something she didn't do, it would just be in a different way. She'd still be able to fly if everything worked out, but she was still a prisoner. But she didn't want to argue, or ruin any chances of them helping her, so all she did was nod. There wasn't anything else she could do. Having no control over the situation was extremely frustrating. "Yeah, I hope it works, too."
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2100hrs.
Pixy sighed as he leaned forward against the balcony railing. The reporter friend of Kathryn's, the guy they called Genette, had a pretty spacious apartment and was able to house all of them. He had his own room, with Kathryn and Hans sharing a room, and Pixy in the third room. Pixy wasn't one to lie to himself and how he felt or believed, and honestly, he was beginning to feel overwhelmed with everything going on. It was great that he got to spend time with everyone, and he was still happy he was able to see his daughter, now, even if he'd have preferred the visit to be under better circumstances.
The trip he'd taken to Aurick had been a lot of fun. That's where he got the idea to help Naomi out from. His old buddy, Cipher, had invited him and his family up to visit several times before and he figured that with their annual 'vigil', as the rest of their family called it, he could go up there with the remainder of his family. Naomi had an obvious reason for not tagging along, and her older brother, Roland, was rarely around to go places with them anymore, so it was just him, his wife, and his eldest child and her husband and kids.
He had to admit, it was almost surreal being a grandfather when he was just barely fifty-two. That's what he got for being a reckless eighteen-year-old, married and with kids by the time he was twenty, with what little support he had insisting that the relationship would never work out. Somehow it did, even with his constant refusal to let a family tie him down. Roland and Samantha had an interesting childhood to say the least, growing up with mercenaries for their family, but they were never incredibly close to him. But he and Naomi, even though she was born many years after her siblings, always shared some sort of...understanding of one another.
It wasn't as if Naomi was some carbon-copy of himself, quite the contrary, considering her patriotism for Osea and the fact that she had little to no issues with borders. No, she betrayed him there, even if he had learned a thing or two on his travels to gain a more open mind. But she had inherited a lot of other things from him, such as a love for the sky and a passion for flying. The short-temper and excessive stubbornness were a few others, not to mention irritability. While it seemed she'd only picked up on his bad traits, her mother had once commented that they were both fiercely loyal. Pixy didn't buy that one, considering his betrayal of Cipher.
Naomi did have some passionate sense of loyalty, but it wasn't something influenced by him. It was perhaps one of her greater qualities as well as her greatest downfall. She didn't handle the loss of a friend very well, whether the friend in question had broken off their friendship or passed away. Throughout her life, up until the start of the war, she'd been lucky enough to only ever lose pets to death. From everything she and her CO had told him about the war, it seemed she wasn't taking her friend's death very well. The trial had been enough to take her mind off of it, it would seem.
Pixy looked out at the city, having a nice view of it from Genette's balcony. You could just barely make out the bay in the distance, the view of the massive Oured bridge obscured by fog and moonlight. Under normal circumstances, it might have been relaxing, but he found himself scanning the skies for any signs of drones. There was something off about that. Were they controlled by humans elsewhere, or were they all A.I.? If the latter of the two was the correct answer, then were they capable of making their own decisions, of going against the program set out before them, or did they even have one to follow to begin with?
He was convinced that Naomi had been framed, all the proof they needed right in front of them. Advancing technology to the point that they had near human intelligence, perhaps greater intelligence, in fact, was a bad idea. Had the Erusean's planned Harling's death the whole time, or were their drones simply ordered to shoot down anything that moved? Pixy groaned with frustration and ran a hand through his hair. All these questions and concerns, all racing through his head and giving him a strange spike in anxiety and adrenaline.
"I'm getting too old for this shit..." he muttered to himself, closing his eyes for just a moment. He wasn't exactly as young as he used to be. Sure, he still enjoyed a good adventure and hated being tied down in one place for too long, but if he were to climb into the cockpit of his beloved F-15 ever again and try and pull the same stunts he used to, chances are he'd be coming back without a wing again. Or without both. And 'No Wing Pixy' didn't have the same ring to it.
The sound of the sliding glass door opening caused him to briefly open his eyes and glance away from the night sky, but only long enough to register that he wasn't alone outside any longer. Someone approached, silently, joining him as he continued to lean on the railing. It was Knocker, a man Naomi spoke rather highly of during their conversations. Although he and Clown were staying on base for the time being, they were visiting at Genette's apartment so they could all catch up. Pixy found some comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only odd one out.
The two of them sat in uncomfortable silence, Pixy content to keep enjoying the view and Knocker having a difficult time not talking to someone, it would have seemed. Knocker nervously rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Nervously, he tried to start a conversation, "Decided to get some fresh air and take a break from everyone else?"
"Not really." Pixy shrugged. "I just wanted to think about a few things, collect all of my thoughts and all that. With Naomi's trial coming up tomorrow, I want to be prepared for the worst case scenario."
"Yeah, me too." Knocker scoffed, but whether it was for himself or for the situation in general, Pixy wasn't sure of. "Maybe some part of me wants to be as optimistic as Clown and the others, but I'm too much of a realist for that. The chances that the judge is going to let her off that easy are practically non-existent."
"Glad I'm not the only one that thinks that," Pixy replied. He took a deep breath. "Believe me, I want Naomi to get out of this scot-free, more than anything, honestly. But we all need to take a practical look at things. The plan in itself isn't bad, in fact, I've got my fingers crossed that it might still work, but they need to prepare themselves for the fact that their efforts might be in vain."
Knocker took a moment to respond, a thoughtful look on his face. "I can tell you really care about your daughter. I'm sorry there wasn't more I could do. Believe me, with Clown and his friends running around finding a solution, I feel pretty useless. Never was one to offer good moral support, either."
Pixy chuckled. "Whatever happens, I won't hold it against you. Naomi trusts you. In fact, even though she complained about how strict you are a time or two, I can tell she looks up to you. You've done as much as you can, I suppose. Hey, how do you think I feel? I'm just an old man who wishes the world would forget about him and move on already." He sighed, catching the glimpse of the few stars visible through the urban glow. "Hell, if anything, I partly blame myself for it."
"What do you mean?" Knocker raised an eyebrow, perhaps taken aback by the comment.
"Well, she knows I was a mercenary a long time ago. I fought in the Belkan War as a pilot, but after my...defeat at the end of the Belkan War I decided to get a different perspective on things and served on the ground for a while. When Naomi was about six or seven, I fought in the final stages of the Usean Continental War. When I got back, she had become sort of a history buff and after learning about the Belkan War and Cipher, all she wanted to do was be a pilot," Pixy explained. "Then I had the bright idea of telling her my own side of that story. Her brother and I also told her a bit about Mobius 1. I even took her to the base where A World With No Boundaries had kept all our planes, letting her sit in the cockpit of my own plane."
"I wouldn't blame yourself, really. It seems like she'd have found a way to fly whether you encouraged it or not. Sounds to me like the two of you had a pretty close relationship, though." Knocker commented.
"Yeah, we did. We still do, actually. But I feel like if I hadn't told her all of my 'secrets' and shown her old footage of my flying then maybe she'd be seen as less reckless and trigger happy," Pixy told him. "I'm probably giving myself too much credit, but I've seen how she flies once or twice before and I've noticed a lot of my own maneuvers that she either learned how to replicate or learned how to perform and then build on them, adapting them into her own style. I'm also worried that having a mixed heritage that includes Belkan isn't going to help anyone give her the benefit of the doubt."
"Well, blood isn't something anyone can help, so I wouldn't say that it's your fault if they show a bias just because she's part Belkan." Knocker gave his best shot at reassuring comment. He paused for a moment, awkwardly chuckling after a moment. "Honestly, I kinda blame myself, too. I should have kept a closer eye on her. Then I could have seen whether or not she had killed the president."
"Maybe it's neither of our faults and we should stop feeling sorry for ourselves, eh?" Pixy asked, trying to lighten the mood by grinning, but he wasn't being too serious with what he'd said. Knocker gave a short laugh and eventually they both fell into silence again. "Well, I guess I should probably get some sleep. There isn't much I'm able to do tomorrow except offer moral support, but I still don't think Naomi would want me falling asleep during the trial." He moved away from the edge of the balcony, giving Knocker a firm, friendly pat on the back. "Safe trip back to base. Hopefully we'll get to have more conversations under better circumstances."
"Goodnight," Knocker said to Pixy's shoulder as he departed, opening up the sliding glass door and stepping inside.
The others were all sitting in the living room, each enjoying their own drink of choice. Genette seemed to have just brought them said drinks, as Pixy heard him remind Kathryn and Clown to take it easy on the beer so they weren't hungover the next morning. They both informed him they were just having the one drink and that was it. Hans perked up as Pixy tried to discreetly head to his room and cut the ongoing conversation off as he asked, "Is everything alright, Mr. Foulke?"
Pixy sighed, giving a small nod in response. "I'm just tired, that's all," he said. Hans nodded, saying nothing to this. "You kids shouldn't stay up too late, y'know. We all have to get up early." He knew very well that he sounded like their dad, even if he wasn't, but after raising three extremely rebellious kids, he couldn't help but try and lay down some law and order once in a while. Mentally, he smacked himself in the face for it, but none of them seemed bothered. They almost seemed amused by it.
"Don't worry, Pixy," Kathryn said, chuckling as she spoke. "We'll be in bed within the hour, that way Clown and Knocker can get back at a reasonable time." He nodded in response, remaining where he was for just a moment before he entered the kitchen to get a quick drink of water, still able to hear the others conversation perfectly. Genette had an open concept kitchen, which meant you got a perfect view of everyone in either the living room or dining room and were able to hear what they were saying with no difficulty.
"Even if we didn't get to bed until later, we've all functioned a little over a day on about two hours of sleep," Clown remarked, starting the conversation up once again, as if Pixy hadn't interrupted at all. "Remember the last night on Sand Island? My God, that was horrible!"
There were murmurs of agreement, but Hans crossed his arms, but the good natured gleam in his eyes took away any sort of aggression he might have been trying to convey. "At least you didn't have to fly into a dark tunnel and evade cranes and boxes that you didn't know were there until you nearly crashed into them," Hans retorted. Pixy smiled at the younger pilot's complaint as he took a sip of his water.
"No, instead we had to try and trust you nuts not to get us both killed," Genette answered, and the group laughed. It wasn't a loud laugh, but more of an appreciative one. Pixy figured that they were fond of their memories during the war, even if it hadn't brought anything but chaos in its duration. Genette waited for the laughter to die out before he added, "At least you didn't have a 68 pound dog in your lap."
"Would you have rather flown the plane, then?" Kathryn asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking at her friend.
"No." Genette replied simply. "I've had my fill of flying, thanks."
Pixy shook his head and chuckled softly, rinsing his glass out and setting it beside the sink. He called out a 'goodnight' to everyone before turning down the hallway and making his way to his room. As he shut his bedroom door and turned on the lamp, he began to think through a few things. The first being that since Genette wasn't a big fan of flying, maybe he could help Pixy out on the ground, snooping around to gather some information. Hans and Kathryn could probably scrounge up some planes to use, too. He was scheming, but he'd need to know the verdict on Naomi's trial before he could take the next step.
Something was off both in the Erusean and Osean military, at least, that's how it seemed to Pixy. The Osean chain of command had somehow been infiltrated. It might have been a conspiracy theory and far from the best conclusion to jump to, but it made sense to him. Erusea currently seemed to be one step ahead of all of the IUN's movements. They'd managed to get the jump on the president on the very day he'd gone to inspect the space elevator. It's possible it was just coincidence, but why wait that long to capture the elevator? They already had more than one advantage at the start of the war.
Somebody was leaking information, possibly more than just one person. And somebody was guilty for Harling's death. But it wasn't Naomi. Pixy sat down on his bed, hanging his head and letting out an almost defeated sigh. But he didn't have any way of proving it. What was he going to do? Waltz into the room and tell the judge that he had a hunch? No, he needed more than that. He wasn't going to just up and abandon his daughter, but as soon as the trial was over, he was leaving for Usea. Cipher and everyone else would understand. Whatever it took to get to the bottom of this and get what the military refused to do finished and over with.
He just needed a cover. Pixy glanced over at the dresser where he'd set up his laptop and left his phone. He wasn't big on using technology, and with the possibility that Erusea had people that were especially skilled with computers — and therefore could easily hack into a computer and see what he was doing — gave computers and smartphones even less appeal to him. Feeling sleep beginning to take its hold on his body, Pixy kicked off his boots and leaned back onto the bed, closing his eyes. He could plan in the morning, once he was fully rested and able to think straight.
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Oured, Osea.
June 16th, 2019.
0600hrs.
Naomi nervously paced back and forth in her cell, the hushed conversations between the guards sparking some curiosity that was replaced by frustration when she wasn't able to find out what was going on. They came by and woke her up at 0300 and had her get ready in that hour, allowing her to shower and collect her dress uniform. Then they threw her back in her cell and told her to finish getting ready and to wait until someone arrived to take her to the courthouse.
She'd changed into her dress uniform, no problem there, but they were stuffy and uncomfortable to wear. The white dress shirt, although required to be tucked, was more comfortable than the dull, green jacket, which she had thrown onto her cot. The pants weren't incredibly uncomfortable, just a little tight at the waist, and whenever she moved her leg, bending her knee, the fabric tightened around it. Not in the way normal fabric would, following with ease and causing no discomfort, but in a way that prohibited a lot of flexibility and became an annoyance whenever she walked. Sitting through her trial was going to be hell.
One might think that Naomi would have been used to wearing the uniform, but she'd only worn it once or twice before that she could remember. It seemed more like it was only once the longer she thought about it. It had been at her 'graduation' from flight school. It wasn't much of an event, but it was a formal ceremony that required her and all the other new pilots to be in a proper dress uniform. That had been fun, but she still hated wearing the uniform. Still, anything was better than the dusty old prison uniform they originally had her wearing.
After what felt like hours of waiting, someone arrived and unlocked her cell. The guard eyed her suspiciously and hesitated before opening the door. Naomi sighed and straightened up, grabbing her jacket from off of the cot and tossing it over her shoulder. She doubted she'd need it outside, but her mother always taught her to plan ahead whenever possible, and she knew from experience that places such as restaurants, courthouses, museums, and churches were typically cold for some reason. In the summer it could be welcomed as a temporary relief, but in the long run it was a bit of an inconvenience.
The guard pulled the cell door to the side, allowing it to slide open with a metallic clunk as it hit the other end of the wall. He stepped inside and Naomi held out her hands, which he promptly cuffed. She'd grown used to the routine in spite of being there for such a short time. The guard moved behind her to guide her forward. "Go on, then," he said gruffly, giving her a light shove on her shoulder. "Don't want to be late for your trial, now, do ya?" He had a faint accent that resembled Clown's, but thicker and meaner.
Naomi complied with his order and exited the cell, glaring at the guards waiting outside her cell to join their coworker in escorting her outside. They looked ready to shoot her should she make a wrong move, and they reminded Naomi a lot of someone who desperately wished they were somewhere else. They definitely didn't look happy to be standing around, babysitting prisoners that would probably be released within the next few months. Naomi didn't blame them, really. While their friends probably got sent out to the front lines or sent to guard prisoners at the penal units, they were stuck here.
As they made their way out of the dark, dingy cells and down the narrow walkway that led away from the main prison area, Naomi's escorts picked up their conversation where they left off. Naomi remained quiet and listened in, figuring it was better than doing nothing. One of the guards with the gun, a lanky guy with broad shoulders, said to the guy with the thick accent, "I overheard the warden talking about what he wants to do with the prisoners here."
"Really? What is it?" the guard with the accent asked. "They lettin' 'em go or somethin'?"
Naomi glanced behind her and saw the lanky guard shake his head in reply. "No, not all of them. He wants to send most of them out to a few penal units, I guess to help dig up landmines for the allied ground troops," he explained to his friend. They came to the first door and he paused the conversation to slide his card and unlock the door. "The warden is hoping to send a select few guards out with them, send some of us to Tyler Island, I think. I heard that they're having some trouble with a few of their prisoners."
"Trouble how?" Naomi perked up at the Accent-Guy's prompting, hoping that Lanky-Dude would continue explaining the situation.
"Well, they bit off more than they could chew." They turned down the next hallway, which was lit up brighter than the first, and reached the next door. He unlocked it and continued, "Tyler Island is a much larger penal unit than the one in Zapland or the one that the Marines and Army set up in the Scofields Plateau. Most of the prisoners got sent there, most of the pilots, too. Zapland's paying the price. Tyler Island has too many prisoners, not enough guards, and Zapland is the exact opposite. I actually heard that there's a pretty good chance that the judge is going to ship Miss Harling's Murderer here, out to Zapland to replace some pilots they lost."
At the mention of this, Naomi nearly spun around to face them, but held back and continued walking forward, smirking ever so slightly. Accent-Guy snorted, as if the comment had been the funniest thing he'd heard in a good while, "And I suppose command would be sending us to help at Tyler Island? Yeah, that's some hilarious shit, right there, Jeffrey. I'm sure it would happen in your dreams." Naomi rolled her eyes as Jeffrey scoffed at his friend, saying nothing more on the topic. Finally, they reached the waiting room area and made it out the front door where a white SUV was waiting that had 'OADF Military Police' in bold, blue stencil lettering on the side.
Naomi paused, thinking back to what the guard had said about the judge and sending her to Zapland. Had Kathryn and the others really had such an influence? Or had that been the plan all along? She wondered if the guard was telling the truth, and if so, it meant she didn't need to worry. Biting her tongue and taking a step forward to the vehicle, she held her breath for a few seconds, then let it out slowly. If she managed to relax, it would all work out in the end.
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0800hrs.
The drive to the courthouse had been slow and almost painful to sit through. The guards didn't talk to her, aside from orders such as 'stop fidgeting' or 'sit still and quit squirming in your seat'. Naomi was starting to feel like they were treating her like a child, not that she didn't deserve it. Her nerves were shot at this point and she was having a hard time sitting comfortably and not having any way to curb her excess energy. So once the drive was over and she was allowed to get out, she practically jumped out of the car, grateful for the opportunity to stretch her legs.
In front of her, the pristine government building was looming over the parking lot. The sun was shining for the time being, but in the distance, dark storm clouds were rolling in, coming from the direction of the coast bringing with them the ominous threat of rain. It wouldn't be long before it reached them and to her it would have seemed like the city was holding its breath in anticipation. I know that feeling, she thought, huffing as she and the guards began their walk up the courthouse steps.
When they entered the building, there was a rush of warm air before the fresh, summer air was locked outside and replaced by the air conditioning in the courthouse. It was chilly, but not enough for her to want to keep her jacket on. The other soldiers walking around the lobby appeared to have the same idea, their jackets slung over their arms or set up on the coat wrack. Naomi was led over to the crowd of people awaiting entry to the actual court, among them Naomi's father, commanding officers, and her father's friends.
Immediately upon reaching the small group of familiar faces, they all greeted her, and the guards took a step back as her father approached, allowing some space after Kathryn nodded to them and motioned for them to give them both some room. Naomi noticed that her father's eyes were nearly bloodshot and he looked as if he hadn't slept too well the night before, but he smiled when he reached her and put a hand on her shoulder. He sighed before he said to her, "Well, then, you're here at last. You ready for this, kid?"
"No," Naomi replied, and her father frowned at this. "But we might as well get it over with, right? Put up a good fight and all that shit." He raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing to continue the topic. As if trying to find something to do to fill the time before they went in, he began to check over her uniform, adjusting her collar and encouraging her to stand up straighter. Naomi didn't argue with him like she normally would, nor did she insist that she looked fine. Instead, she attempted to joke, "Well, at least you aren't telling me to fix my hair. Congratulations, you're only a step away from turning into Mom."
He didn't take too well to the teasing, simply brushing some dust off of her shoulders and scowling. "It isn't a crime to want my daughter to look presentable," he argued. He glanced to the guards with mild disapproval before adding, "After all, you can see what the Osean military typically has as their public face. Maybe you can set the record straight and show them that the air force is up to par, eh?"
Naomi gave a weak chuckle at her father's words, noting the suspicious looks from the guards. "Yeah, maybe." She flinched when she heard the doors leading into the court open and someone announce that they were allowed to come in. She gritted her teeth as the crowd began to file inside, knowing that her father and her friends wouldn't be able to sit with her. She'd be up there, by herself, with several people watching carefully. As her father turned towards the door, making as if he was going to leave, Naomi reached out and grabbed his arm. "Dad, wait! What if...well, what if the worst case scenario happens?"
He hesitated when he turned around, something close to sadness and anger — maybe determination — flashing across his face. Naomi released her hold on his arm, desperately wanting him to answer so she could relax just a little. Maybe a part of her was worried she'd never see him again, that they'd give her a death sentence, and she wanted to know that her family would be okay. Would they be okay without her? Would they miss her? The anxiousness and sadness began to build up again and there was a familiar knot in her throat.
She felt like a child once again. Like a scared, timid little girl that still needed her father. Maybe she did need him. Her whole life he'd been there and now, no matter what happened, he'd be gone and it would be her fault. Her father glanced quickly at the door and then glared at the guards who tried to usher him away. Naomi hadn't been aware of it until then, but they were trying to hurry them both along. "Could you hold on just one damned minute?" her father spat at the MP and turned back to Naomi, wearing a look she couldn't quite understand. He gave her a comforting hug, tight and warm and safe. She let herself relax for just a moment, her father stroking her hair ever so slightly. "Don't worry. We'll work through this, alright? I don't know if I ever told you this, but members of the Foulke family can wind up in some pretty messy situations."
Naomi pulled away from the hug to look at him, sniffling at this point and trying to keep the tears from her eyes. She wanted to let it out of her system, but if her dad could keep it together then so could she. "Really?" she asked, almost scoffing out the word as she put on a small smile.
"Yeah." He gave her a reassuring smile, one that always used to cheer her up. "And you know what? You're looking at the king of bad choices and difficult situations. I won't go into the details, but I've always found my way out of those situations." There was a pause as he thought through his next choice of words. "Now, I don't want to get to deep or philosophical here, but you know how I can be. Look, every situation has something to teach you. In my experience, you just have to put up a good fight through the hard times and in the end, it'll all be worth it."
"I'll try to remember that." Naomi looked to the irritated MPs and the lady that was holding the door open tapping her foot impatiently and checking her watch. She looked back to her dad. "Thanks for the advice, Dad. However, you might want to get going before they court martial both of us."
"That's probably a good idea." He chuckled and gave her a pat on the shoulder before turning towards the door, calling over his shoulder, "In all honesty, I'd actually like to see them try!"
Naomi smiled before she felt someone shove her forward and force her to begin her own march inside. The dark, wooden doors shut behind her with an echoing thud once they entered the court. All eyes in the room instinctively shot towards the source of the noise, before they settled down and fixed their gaze on the front of the courtroom, to the raised platform that the judge would soon be sitting at. There weren't as many people as Naomi expected, all of them appearing to be reporters or younger soldiers working towards joining JAG and thus taking notes on how the case was handled. In fact, most of the men and women in the room were in the latter category, likely having been to excited to pass up an opportunity to watch former President Harling's murderer on trial.
The guards led Naomi to the front of the courtroom, sitting her down at a table to the left. Waiting for her was Kathryn, who gave a warm smile as Naomi sat down beside her. She leaned over and whispered, "I'll be acting as...well, as your defense in a way. Your lawyer got sick, but he spoke with me this morning to go over everything I need to say. I'm not up to date on legal terms, but really what we're trying to do is worry about your sentence and review the evidence. It shouldn't take too long and the case might, officially speaking, be on hold until the war's over and we have more time and resources."
Naomi adjusted herself in her seat, trying to get comfortable while sitting in a rigid position. "So they're just trying to punish me for the time being? Is the death penalty still an option?" Nervously, she turned her head toward the crowd to try and catch a glimpse of her friends and family. Knocker and Clown were sitting beside her father, with Genette and Hans one row in front of them. So they were there for support. Good.
Kathryn took a moment to answer Naomi's question. "Well, technically, yes it is. The death penalty, I mean. However, Knocker and Clown spoke with the judge and presented him with some training footage, so we're hoping we can get you transferred to the 444th and give them more time to officially review your case. Until then..." She trailed off and her gaze drifted to the front of the courtroom as the judge entered. Everyone was ordered to rise and they all did so, ordered to be seated when the judge had finally sat down. Kathryn quickly whispered, "It's gonna be a long day, so strap in and keep your head up, kid."
The judge cleared his throat before he began speaking. "I want to make it clear that this is perhaps going to be one of the shortest court-martials I've ever participated in," he said. "Right now we're just looking for a temporary sentence for the accused. Once the war starts to let up a little, then we can come up with a long term solution. Today, I expect a good argument to be presented. Is that clear?" He paused and scanned the room, everyone nodding in agreement. "Good. Now...the accused is First Lieutenant Naomi Foulke - TAC name is Trigger. Allegedly, she fired the shot that killed former President Harling. Major Kathryn Hamilton is representing the accused in place of Lieutenant Foulke's attorney, and Major Kyle Wilson will be representing the victim, Mr. Harling. Major Wilson, you may proceed."
Naomi watched as a slender man with pale skin and slicked back red hair stood up from the table to the right, adjusting his dress jacket as he stepped to the center of the courtroom. She hadn't noticed him when she came in, so she assumed he'd either been sitting so still she hadn't given him a second look, or that he'd come in quietly before the judge had entered. "Thank you, Your Honor," Wilson said, bowing his head. "I've reviewed the report written by Colonel Matthews — Fort Grays' base commander - as well as the report written by Lieutenant Foulke's commanding officers and the contradictions in both reports are simply astounding, so much so that it leads me to suspect that her COs are trying to cover up for her and prevent themselves from looking like a possible accessory to murder."
In the crowd, Naomi saw Knocker tense up as he sent a glare Wilson's way. Clown placed a hand on his arm to calm him down just as Kathryn shouted, "Objection, Your Honor. Neither Captain Turner nor Captain Pierce are on trial, here, sir. Furthermore, they had nothing to do with the supposed murder. Major Wilson is straying from the topic."
The judge paused, looking at Wilson, who seemed almost startled by the objection. He finally sighed and said, "Sustained. Major Wilson, please refrain from making accusations against witnesses."
"Very well, Your Honor." Wilson bowed his head, glaring at Kathryn before he began to pace the area as he spoke. "As I was saying, the reports contain several contradictions, however I am more inclined to believe Colonel Matthews report, as it aligns with the footage retrieved from Lieutenant Foulke's gun camera. As you all know, modern fighter jets — which of course, include the F-16 that Lieutenant Foulke flies — are equipped with cameras that begin recording when the firing mechanism is active. Every missile fired and every bullet fired was recorded, as well as the intended target. Every time she pulled the trigger.
"Now, footage shows that she fired the missile that struck Mr. Harling's craft, an Erusean V-22 that was commandeered by Colonel Johnson and Mr. Harling. The craft was already damaged by a missile blow that killed Colonel Johnson, and Mr. Harling presumably took the controls, turning it back to the space elevator and into the swarm of drones. Lieutenant Foulke was tasked with taking down the UAVs that were attempting to fire at the retreating aircraft. Mage Squadron, of which Foulke was assigned to, was supposed to be providing escort for the V-22 and yet they engaged the drones without authorization and—"
Naomi gritted her teeth, but she couldn't help but stand up for herself and Clown. "Objection! Our AWACS, Sky Keeper, gave us permission to engage the drones and keep them off of Harling's craft. We were doing our job!"
"Not according to the report from Colonel Matthews," Wilson replied cooly.
"Objection overruled," the judge said quickly in response to Naomi, visibly annoyed by her outburst. Looking to Kathryn, he said as calmly as he could, "Major Hamilton, if you are unable to keep your...'client' under control, then I'm afraid I'll have to have you removed from the court."
"I understand, sir. Please excuse my client. She's been a little high-strung lately," Kathryn said apologetically, turning to Naomi. She lowered her voice as Wilson continued to present his case. "Naomi, I need you to get it together. I have a feeling the judge is one of those 'three strikes and your out' types, so if you keep speaking out of turn, then the chances of them reaching a verdict that keeps you alive diminishes significantly. They won't see you as being fit to remain as a pilot. They'll lock you away and throw out the key."
"I'm sorry," Naomi replied sincerely. "I don't mind the accusations being thrown at me, but he's trying to drag Clown and Knocker into this and it's really annoying. I'm on trial, not them. They have nothing to do with this."
"I've heard about Major Wilson," Kathryn whispered harshly, her voice sounding strained from the annoyance and anger she. "I had Genette look into him so we knew what we're up against. Wilson doesn't let up. On anybody. He gets the job done, no questions asked, and he takes down whoever he's able to in the process. The guy plays dirty, if you ask me. You act out, react like you just did again, I can guarantee that he'll use it against you to prove a point."
Naomi nodded and looked up as Wilson finished presenting his case. "Personally, and I think Mr. Harling would have agreed with me—" he put on a smug smile that made the hairs on the back of Naomi's neck bristle. "—we ought to give the same punishment for the crime she chose to commit. An eye for an eye, as it were. Therefore, the death penalty is the prime option. We can remove the bad apples that give the OADF a bad rep and rid the world of a killer at the exact same time. Living her life out in prison is too merciful for someone cruel enough to pull the trigger without thinking twice."
The judge briefly glanced over at Naomi and she felt the cold, blue eyes of Wilson trained on her. She swallowed hard and turned behind her to look at the others. Her father wore an angry expression, but when his eyes met hers they showed something she'd never once seen from him — fear. It wasn't something she was used to seeing from him. Her whole life he was the invincible man, the gruff, ruthless pilot that fought in the Belkan War. The man who taught her everything she knew, including how to not be afraid. And now he was scared, just like she was.
"Thank you, Major Wilson." The judge's voice snapped her and her father back into reality and Naomi saw Wilson sitting down, the stupid, smug smile still present even after he finally shut his mouth. "Major Hamilton, you may now present your own case. And I'd hope it's a good one."
Kathryn nodded respectfully, patting Naomi on the shoulder reassuringly as she stood from her seat and stepped into the center of the room, between the two tables. Wilson watched her with a strange look on his face, the smile fading to a smirk and then turning slowly into a sneer. Kathryn seemed unfazed and Naomi took a deep breath as she waited for her defense to begin speaking. "Thank you, Your Honor. I'd like to start by saying that, had Mr. Harling been here today and had someone else been on trial for a different murder, he would have expected some degree of mercy to be shown. It is also my firm belief that Mr. Harling's death was an accident, if anything, rather than a premeditated act."
She walked back towards the table Naomi was at and picked up a manila folder, opening it up. "You see, I too reviewed the reports. And unlike Major Wilson, I'm more inclined to believe the reports written by those that actually witnessed the event. This report is Captain Turner's side of the story, he's Lieutenant Foulke's flight commander."
Kathryn paused, then she cleared her throat and began to read from the first page in the folder, "'The V-22, now assumed to have been piloted by former President Harling, made a sharp turn back towards the space elevator and into the swarm of drones. The UAVs wasted no time swarming around their intended target, making it difficult for myself and the members of Golem and Mage to continue providing support. Regardless of the threat of friendly fire, we continued to engage. One drone relentlessly stuck to the V-22's tail and Lieutenant Foulke claims — and furthermore, appeared — to be aiming for the UAV, even getting a lock on it and firing.'"
Closing the file, she tucked it under her shoulder. "This makes it very likely that when Foulke fired, she had a lock on the UAV. The IFF wouldn't allow her to fire on an ally anyways, unless she fired without a lock, in which case the chances of her actually hitting whatever she aimed at are slim." Kathryn set the file back on the table and hurriedly stepped to the center of the courtroom again, standing before the judge.
"Sir, Captain Pierce — Lieutenant Foulke's flight leader — and I have known each other for many years. He was one of the men who had my back during the last war. I know for a fact that he wouldn't assign something to or for anything if he didn't believe they were trustworthy. Lieutenant Foulke seems more than willing to serve her country in any way she can, and respectful of history as well. Why would she kill a president, especially when he served his last term when she was fourteen? She barely had any idea what his policies were, aside from what she's read in the history books." Naomi couldn't help but cheer up a little at this, hopeful for the first time in several days. Kathryn was making a compelling argument, judging from the look on Wilson and the judge's faces.
Kathryn quickly wrapped up her statement. "Lieutenant Foulke has proven to be a model fighter pilot, a great asset to the air force and continued to show great promise until she was grounded. Forcing her to waste away in a cell or abruptly ending her life is cruel and unfair to her, her family, and also to our country, if you were to ask me. Especially when we have no idea for sure if she actually killed the president. How would any of us feel if we killed someone who turned out to be innocent? That's blood on your hands, not hers."
Within the crowd, there were murmurs of agreement and even the judge had an interested look, nodding ever so slightly. Kathryn waited a moment before she continued, finishing off with her own proposal of a sentence. "The 444th Air Base in Zapland is a penal unit, quite strict from what I hear, and they've been requesting new pilots after sustaining losses in an Erusean bombing run. Foulke could be a useful asset out there, even if she's not on the front lines. It would be a good temporary fix until we can confirm whether or not she really did kill Mr. Harling. And if she did? She can remain in the air, serving her country to work off her crimes. This way, you get your justice and she gets to live and continue flying. It's a win-win solution."
"Hmm...Major Hamilton, you may be seated. I'll admit, you present a convincing argument," the judge said with another nod, and the corners of Kathryn's lips curled into a brief smile, bright green eyes lit up with excitement as she made her way back to the table to sit beside Naomi. The judge sighed, glancing at the clock. He squinted to read the face of the clock, the hands displaying the time as nine o' clock. Naomi checked her watch to confirm this. Once he'd managed to read the time, he slammed his gavel onto the wooden block on his desk and said, "This session is adjourned until 10:00 to allow us time to review the evidence and decide upon a sentence. We've already received statements from the witnesses. Dismissed!"
Everyone began to file out of the courtroom and back into the lobby, and Naomi found herself shocked that it was going by so quickly. She was also more than happy to get out of the courtroom and get some fresh air. For now, her hope was restored. As they left to join up with the rest of their friends, Kathryn slung an arm around Naomi's shoulder, starting to grin. "Don't tell anyone, but that was one of the most exciting and terrifying things I've ever done. And don't tell Grimm that it almost beats flying through that tunnel in Sudentor."
"You did what now?" Naomi contained her disbelief as best she could, but she knew a good story when she heard one. And a story from a Razgriz pilot? That had to be worth it. Who knows, it might take her mind off of things and give them something to talk about for an hour.
Kathryn chuckled. "Let's catch up with your dad and the others. Then I'll tell you all about. I should warn you, though, it's a looong story."
Naomi put on a matching, wide grin at this. "No worries there. We've got time."
|...|...|...|
1000hrs.
After an hour of war stories from the Razgriz and more than one refreshing cup of water, court was finally back in session. Naomi felt calmer than she previously had, but as soon as she sat back down at that chair and waited for the judge to enter once more, she found herself nervously tapping the floor with her foot and fidgeting with her hands. Kathryn had even gotten a little annoyed by her sudden hyperactivity, asking her why her TAC name was Trigger instead of 'Fidgeter'. Naomi had tried to cut back on the foot tapping and leg shaking, but she continued to fidget with her hands.
The judge entered the room and the order for all to rise came just like it had before and everyone stood up. When the judge sat down they all followed. He put on a pair of reading glasses and picked up a sheet of paper, clearing his throat. Naomi held her breath as he began. "After reviewing the options, the court has sentenced First Lieutenant Naomi Foulke to serve as a pilot in the 444th Air Base Penal Unit for the time being. We'll be contacting Colonel D. McKinsey and informing him of the transfer. In the meantime, while she's being shipped out, we'll be going over the case in order to reach a verdict on whether or not she's truly guilty of murdering former president Harling."
Naomi let out a breath of relief, relaxing, although she knew this was just a calm before the storm sort of moment. Right now, she was just thanking the Lord above that she wasn't going to be facing the death penalty. She zoned out as the judge finished up, only reacting once the gavel had been slammed once more and Kathryn nudged her on the shoulder. She stood up, almost in some sort of shock. "That...was really unexpected..." she said to Kathryn, in a daze. Sulking away was Major Wilson, who glared at the two women before rudely shoving his way through the crowd. "Why do I get the feeling he wanted me dead?"
"Major Wilson is a rabid Harling supporter from way back in the day, all the way during his first term," Kathryn explained casually as she helped guide her through the crowd. "I wasn't exactly a Harling supporter myself until the Circum-Pacific War, but a good friend of mine was and she actually helped all of us see what good he was doing. Unfortunately, there's radicals in every group and Wilson adores Harling. Rather, he used to. As someone who knew Harling, I can assure you, he wouldn't want you put to death. Wilson fails to see this, but that doesn't matter anymore. He's no longer a problem."
"I guess your right," Naomi replied as they exited through the wooden doors and into the lobby once again. "I'm a little surprised it was so short...I feel a little faint, actually." Indeed, she was beginning to feel light-headed, as if relief and shock were creating a tug-of-war within her body. Her father instantly hurried over to her as they stepped onto the marble floors in the lobby and he rushed over and hugged her tightly, as relieved as she was. Naomi fought the hug at first, not expecting it, but she slowly relaxed and the light-headedness began to ebb away. "Dad...you can let me go, now."
Her father released his bear hug on her and smiled warmly. "Well, I can't say that this sentence is much better, but at least this way you keep your wings, right?" he said hopefully. Naomi nodded slowly. If he wanted to say more, he didn't, and he looked away from Naomi as Knocker approached them with a somber look. "Something wrong, Knocker?"
"No, just a little disappointing," her CO replied. Naomi looked at him curiously, the others doing the same. "I just spoke with the judge and one of the guards. They're sending her to the 444th later this evening. They've already arranged a transport and everything. The bad part is that they aren't allowing us to go out to the airfield. If we want to say goodbye, we need to do it here and now. That's what they said, anyways."
"We aren't flying escort, then?" Clown asked, something close to sadness in his voice, as if they'd previously had that in mind. As it turns out, they had. "I thought we were able to arrange that with them the other day if all worked out and then we'd fly back to Fort Grays on our own?"
Knocker shook his head. "They changed the escort. Mobius Squadron is flying escort, then they'll be flying back to an allied base in Yuktobania. They're on standby these days, ever since the Free Erusea uprising in 2014, so the guard told me an escort mission is perfect work for them after such a long break from combat."
Naomi sighed, and looked around the group of friends, even if she'd just met most of them. "Thanks for all you guys did for me," she said to them, deciding she needed to go ahead and get the goodbyes and the waterworks over and done with. The guards were waiting nearby, ready to take her back to the base to pack up after she'd just gotten settled in. "I know I didn't know most of you that long, but I really appreciate you helping me stay in the air like this. I won't ever forget it." She felt her dad place a hand on her back and give her a gentle pat. She sucked in a sharp breath and hurriedly gave him a hug, moving on to Kathryn, then Hans, Genette, and finally even Knocker and Clown allowed her to give them a hug.
Clown and Knocker both pulled her into a group hug and she heard Clown say, "Listen here, Trigger. You stay focused on what you need to do and you trust your gut. Keep an eye on your teammates out there, even if you are flying with convicts."
"Yeah," Knocker agreed. "Maybe you can show 'em how a real pilot flies. You've got real promise kid, and it's a damn shame that they're doing this to you. Just work to improve yourself and get out alive."
Hans, who was standing nearest to them and heard the words of encouragement, added as she pulled away from them, "In short, give them hell and make sure they don't forget you. Hold your own and earn yourself the respect you deserve. It's what I did when I joined Wardog." Naomi gave him an appreciative smile, and Kathryn nodded in agreement as she wrapped an arm around her husband.
"I better get going, now," Naomi said, glancing over at the ever impatient guards.
"Right," Genette said shortly, looking at the clock. Before she began to leave, he told her, "Remember that we've still got your back. I've got the feeling something else is going on here and your dad and I are going to get to the bottom of it." She nodded, looking back only briefly to get a last look at their faces before continuing on her way to the guards.
With all the words of encouragement and the reassuring comment from Genette fresh in her mind, Naomi didn't feel as hesitant when they approached the SUV that would be taking them back to the base's prison. A verdict was yet to be reached, and she had the feeling that she was marching straight to hell, but she was bound and determined to make it out alive.
Don't give up without a fight. Give 'em hell and earn respect. Trust your gut. Naomi went over the words in her head, taking a deep breath as she got into the car. Here we go.