Chapter 53
EVE’S TRIAL, LORIAN
The encrypted connection to Alba takes longer than usual to establish. When Father's face finally materializes in the holographic display, he looks older than I remember. "Lorian, I heard about your human problem."
"News travels fast."
"When the IGC arrests a human for terrorism who is also rumored to be your and Rafe’s lover at the Grand Championships, the entire galaxy is watching." He leans back, Autumn is visible at his feet as always. "What do you need?"
"Connections. Anyone in the Empire who might have influence with the IGC tribunals."
Father laughs. "You think Imperial contacts will help you save a human terrorist? The Empire celebrates such arrests. It serves as proof that humans can't be trusted."
"She's not a terrorist. She's—"
"Yours?" He studies me with those eyes that see too much. "I warned you about humans, Lorian. They're meant to be owned completely or not at all. This half-measure employment was always going to end badly."
"Father, do you have any contacts or not?"
He's quiet for a moment, stroking Autumn's hair absently. "Admiral Kai owes me a favor. He sits on the Imperial Advisory Council to the IGC. But Lorian... the price will be steep. And he won't lift a finger out of sentimentality. You'll need to offer him something substantial."
"I almost have the coordinates to Haven."
Father's hand stills. "The mythical human colony Terra Ka has been hiding?"
"I've been tracking their ship movements for months. Triangulating possible locations. I'm close, thanks to Eve." I look at my father’s shocked face. “We set her up from the beginning as a honey trap.”
"That changes things. And that information would be worth... considerable influence." He smiles now, cold and calculating. "Many trainers lost valuable property during these liberation efforts. They'd pay handsomely for the chance to retrieve their investments."
"Then make the call."
"I will. But, Lorian—” His expression turns serious.
"If this human means so much to you, perhaps it's time to stop pretending she's an employee.
Don't let love make you weak. Your mother did that to me, and look where it led us—exiled from the Empire, living as rich refugees on a planet that barely tolerates us. "
The connection ends, leaving me alone with that warning. I pour myself a drink, considering all of our options.
Rafe enters without knocking, his face drawn with exhaustion. "My ship is ready," he says.
"Father's reaching out to Admiral Kai for help."
"Good. I've liquidated several assets for bribes. Jin Kol's assistant seems particularly susceptible." He pauses. "Are you prepared for this?"
"To see her on trial? No." I drain my glass. "But I'll do what's necessary, what I have to.”
The IGC Judicial Complex orbits in neutral space, a massive structure designed to intimidate. As our ship docks, media drones swarm, broadcasting our arrival across the galaxy. The Sovereign Directors of the Celestial Spire have come to witness their human employee's trial for terrorism.
Inside, the corridors echo with a thousand species' footsteps. We're escorted to a viewing gallery reserved for "interested parties." Through the transparent aluminium, I can see the courtroom below.
Within minutes, the gallery is already filling with familiar faces. Aefre sits three rows below us, his usually perfect composure shattered, and his green eyes burn with fury when he sees us.
"Sovereigns," he spits. "Come to watch your pet-terrorist face justice? She cost me everything."
"Your losses are noted," Rafe replies. "And you will be compensated.”
“How? You can’t simply replace a human like Ember. He was with me for over a decade.” Aefre stands, trembling with rage. "When this is over, when she's sentenced, I'll be filing civil suits against the Ascendant Alliance for negligence."
Other trainers murmur agreement. Marath coils in her seat, scales flushed with anger. The Aria-7 delegation whispers among themselves, shooting us venomous looks.
Above us all, in the supreme viewing box, Jin Kol surveys the scene with satisfaction. He orchestrated this perfectly—not just Eve's arrest, but this public humiliation of the Ascendant Alliance's policies. He catches my eye and raises an invisible glass in mock salute.
"Sovereigns." A Reima Two woman approaches, her press credentials glowing. "Mira Voss, Reima Two Daily. Might I ask a few questions?"
I move to dismiss her, but Rafe catches my arm.
"Ask," he says.
"The galaxy is watching this trial closely. A human who was elevated to professional status, now accused of terrorism. What does this mean for the Ascendant Alliance’s human employment initiatives?"
"It means," Rafe says, "that humans, like all sentient beings, are capable of both good and bad choices. Madame Eve’s actions, if proven, represent individual failure, not species-wide inability."
"Yet you're here supporting her?"
"We're here to see justice done," Rafe says. "Nothing more."
She smiles, knowing there's more. "And if she's convicted? Will the Ascendant Alliance continue employing humans?"
"That remains to be seen."
The reporter leaves, but others take her place. By the time the trial begins, we've given a dozen interviews, each carefully crafted to position us as reasonable employers betrayed by a single bad actor.
Then they bring her in.
Eve enters in restraints that make my blood burn. But it's not the neural shackles or the energy chains that gut me. It's what they've done to her.
She's naked.
Completely, utterly naked before the packed courtroom.
And her skin bears the marks of "processing," the decontamination chemicals leaving raw patches, and the neural probe points still visible on her temples.
They've shaved sections of her hair for the brain scans, leaving her looking violated and vulnerable.
Oh, my beautiful sinner, what have they done to you?
"Standard procedure for terrorist suspects," someone behind us says. "Can't risk hidden weapons or communication devices."
But I know better. This is about humiliation. About reminding everyone that humans, no matter how elevated, are still considered animals by most of the galaxy.
Eve keeps her chin up as they position her in the defendant's sphere. The energy field holds her in place, arms slightly spread, completely exposed to the hundreds of eyes examining her. Some with disgust, some with pity, and far too many with sexual hunger.
Beside me, Rafe's hands clench into fists. "They're making an example of her."
"Of course they are." I force my voice to remain steady. "The question is whether we can turn that to our advantage."
The Chief Arbiter enters, a Sextari whose six arms allow him to manipulate multiple legal interfaces simultaneously. His compound eyes survey the courtroom before settling on Eve.
"Eve Eden, formerly of Earth, currently employed by the Ascendant Alliance, you stand accused of conspiracy with the terrorist organization Terra Ka, sabotage of legal detention systems, trafficking in sentient beings, and violation of the Interspecies Security Act. How do you plead?"
Eve's voice carries clearly through the amplifiers. "Not guilty."
A ripple of surprise passes through the court. Most expected her to confess and to throw herself on the court's mercy.
I know better, though. Eve considers herself not guilty because she believes the whole human pet system is flawed.
"Very well. Prosecutor, present your evidence."
What follows is damning. Security footage of Eve meeting with known terrorists. Medical files. Communication logs. DNA evidence at breach points.
Through it all, Eve stands naked in the sphere, maintaining dignity despite everything. When they show footage of her passing information to Gael, she doesn't flinch. When they detail how she hid Ash's pregnancy, she shows no shame.
"The defendant was questioned under neural verification," the prosecutor, an Octopod whose tentacles writhe with satisfaction, continues. "She refused to reveal Terra Ka locations or operative names, even under maximum legal compulsion."
They show footage of her interrogation. Eve convulsing as the neural probes are activated, her screaming as they dug through her memories, but she never broke. Never gave them the location of Haven. Never betrayed Terra Ka.
Our Eve is so brave, I think proudly.
"She is either remarkably strong-willed," the prosecutor concludes, "or remarkably stupid. Either way, she is undeniably guilty."
“She doesn’t know,” I say under my breath, and I see Rafe slightly nod. We tracked everything. Terra Ka never shared that information with her, and she never asked.
Eve's defender, a court-appointed Reima Two, who clearly wants this over quickly, offers weak rebuttals. Entrapment. Coercion. The confused mental state of a human thrust into galactic society.
"My client acted from misguided compassion," he says. "She saw suffering and sought to alleviate it, not understanding the broader implications of her actions. She is only human, and we can only expect so much. Look, she doesn’t even understand that she’s guilty.”
It's a pathetic argument, and everyone knows it. Especially since Eve’s IQ scores float above her head with the rest of her biometrics.
During a recess, I slip away to take Admiral Kai's call.
"Your father explained the situation," his voice crackles through the secure channel. "The Haven coordinates would indeed be valuable. But I need more. The neural technology you acquired from the Null Sector. I want exclusive access."
Fuck, that’s a high price to pay, but the alternative is watching Eve die for something we half-tricked her into. "Done," I say.
"Good. I'll make some calls. The death penalty is unlikely anyway; she's too high-profile and a lot of the trainers want to buy her. But I can ensure her sentencing will be favorable to your interests."