Snippet #2757936

It had been nearly two years since Government Center had nearly been completely destroyed for at least the third time since the Terran National Government had labored to build the original structure. By this point, the first stones and cuts of marble had been painstakingly restored to at least twenty percent of the original, but the reconstruction process would continue on for decades no doubt. After the super-earthquake, rated at over 10 on the Richter scale, the super-volcano's fiery eruption, and four consecutive tsunamis wreaking trillions of credits worth of damage and nearly two million deaths across the continent, with the epicenter of the catastrophic destruction in Wing City itself, it was a miracle any reconstruction had succeeded at all.

But now, Terra would see at least some justice against Elijah Alexander Kenton, the maverick killer whose anti-mana plan had set the entire cataclysm in motion. He'd been held under strict conditions of confinement while the investigation carefully pieced together the exact extent of the damage, the names of the victims, and the way in which he'd managed to carry it out, beginning with, of all things, tainting the city's water supply.

For fear of an Aschen Reverence or another mass insurrection at the hands of warring crime families, Wing City's residents and denizens had largely not contemplated mass murder caused simply by one man who, lacking loyalty to one of these expected invaders or insurgents, only had intense loathing for all things magical and an incredible lack of patience and restraint.

The trial was set for Annex Courtroom Two, in Government Center's West Wing, originally home to displaced and not-yet-assigned TNG employees in the nation's early days, and now used only for trials expected to attract as large an audience as this one. The press swarmed the path leading to the West Wing, cameras flashing as commentators gave quick-paced rundowns of the major players here today.

There was the Honorable Akosua Nkrumah Acheampong, Chief Justice of Wing City Superior Court, who ordinarily did not preside over trials unless it was one as high-profile and high-stakes as this one. Known as a fair jurist, but occasionally quick-tempered when litigants, particularly defendants, made the mistake of disrespecting the court or wasting the court's time. She was in chambers, as Kenton was brought up, shackled at the wrists and ankles, to the courtroom, accompanied by the Aschen attorney sent from the consulate.

Then there were the lead prosecutors, Senior Prosecutors General Thục-Đoàn Phùng and Geraldine Batchelder-Lockerby, who'd first made their names years ago doing the brunt of the investigative work into the TNG's elusive yet infamous spymaster after the Malijin hearings. That was when Sisavang Khamtai had still been Justice Minister, though neither Thục-Đoàn nor Geraldine could quite believe it had been that long ago now. The two women, one slender, aristocratic, and fair, the other round, rugged, and brown, took their positions at counsel table, setting redwells with files neatly arranged within on the table, while staffers from the Office of the Prosecutor General joined them, as junior attorneys and professional support staff.

The first row in the spectator seating had been reserved for members of the media chosen by lottery, and those lucky few carefully readied tablets (one or two bringing old-fashioned ink pens) and cameras, while the public was allowed to take the remaining seats in the courtroom, ushered by stern-faced court officers under instructions not to permit any shenanigans or chicanery whatsoever.

Outside, the sun began to peek from behind massive clouds, shining through the windows in what struck Thục-Đoàn as an auspicious sign. Yes. This trial might finally be an opportunity for some justice.

"You have the opening?" Geraldine murmured, sliding a sheet of paper to Thục-Đoàn. The whisper was quite unnecessary, since the spectators were still speaking and the bailiff hadn't called the court to session yet.

"Just as prepared," Thục-Đoàn confirmed, offering a brief flash of a smile to Geraldine. "Don't worry. We've got this."

"Positive attitude," Geraldine said with a nod. "That, and confidence in our hard work. That's the mindset."

"ALL RISE, COURT IS NOW IN SESSION, THE HONORABLE AKOSUA NKRUMAH ACHEAMPONG PRESIDING," the bailiff called, voice resounding throughout the courtroom, and Judge Acheampong, who was the very image of regal beauty and power, strode to her place on the bench, her robes billowing elegantly behind her. "You may now be seated."