The prosecutor—trial counsel or whatever they call it—was looking directly at her as he said, "Specialist Fourth Class Allison Patricia O'Connor, you stand accused of the following violations: mutiny, espionage, conspiracy, aiding the enemy, misbehavior before the enemy, failure to obey orders, false statements, resisting arrest, disloyal statements, and fraternization. A plea of not guilty has been entered on your behalf for all charges. Do you wish to change your plea to any of the charges or specifications at this time?"

In truth, she hadn't seen the charges in any detail, even though she was pretty sure she had a right to it, not that her rights had much meaning here. Then again, her rights became pretty meaningless ever since she was drafted.

She didn't know what she could've possibly done to deserve this. Maybe she didn't deserve it. It didn't make much difference. She could cry about injustice all she wanted and it wouldn't change anything. She just wanted it to be over with.

She walked stiffly over the stand next to the judge. Once she had taken her place, the judge nodded to the Marine lieutenant by the door to his right.

The bailiff walked over to the witness stand. Even with the stand being raised a good twenty or so senches off the floor, Ally still didn't meet his eye level.

The bailiff then returned to his post and the trial counsel spoke up.

Ally couldn't help but recall that the Big Four was the same information she was obliged to give as a prisoner of war. It really wasn't that different.

It was dizzying to be barraged by all those questions. In all truth, she was a little fuzzy on the dates, but it all sounded close enough to being right. Given the charges against her, did it really matter if she got a Tuesday and a Wednesday mixed up?

Ally felt her throat tighten. She was told her reclassing was top secret. Did that mean she was supposed to keep it secret even here?

Should she just say that it's top secret? Would that be enough?

The trial counsel continued to press her.

What was she supposed to say?

The trial counsel pressed a button and Ally's voice filled room.

Those were her words, but she didn't remember saying any of it. Only vague fragments of Jack holding her in the ruins of a hab-dome in Argyre.

In a mocking tone, the trial counsel repeated her last words on the recording. "'We're no different'... That's what you said, Specialist. The Union is no different from her sworn enemy. If that's the case, where does your true loyalty lie? Again, let's listen to your own words."

That was from one of the times she spoke with Chaplain Teufel. What happened to privileged communication? The Chaplain told her what she said was just between the two of them. Did he know they were being recorded?

Before Ally could protest, the trial counsel said, "This refers to your purported capture by the Sheolites from 9 to 11 July 121. And why would you be singled out among over 200 people taken aboard the Hades?"

He didn't wait for Ally to answer, or at least not in person. Again her voice played on the speaker.

Ally felt sick. She didn't have much on her stomach, but it was a wonder she didn't throw up then and there.

It took all Ally's willpower just to stay standing, to hold her lurching stomach in check. The trial counsel didn't let up, though.

She didn't have an answer. What could she possibly say that would make any difference at this point?

Jack was having none of it.

The General's threat meant absolutely nothing to him. He was facing life in the Icebox or some rock on the Belt. Being held in contempt was the least of his worries.

General Ryczek had his fill, turning to his right and saying, "Bailiff, remove the detainee."

The Marine lieutenant moved in along with two of the guards posted by the walls. As the bailiff took hold of him and started to drag him off the stand, Jack realized that rebelling against the tribunal's proceedings wasn't going to accomplish anything, but if he was going to go down anyway, maybe there was something useful he could do for it. He wouldn't get his chance if they carried him out first, though.

Straining against the bailiff, Jack looked to General Ryczek and said, "Let Ally go an' I'll say whatever ya want me ta say. I don't care what ya do ta me. Jus' let Ally go. She ain't gonna hurt nothin'. Whatever shit you're tryin' ta bury, she don't know nothin' about it. Please..."

His appeal fell on deaf ears. The General wasn't moved in the slightest.

With his last-ditch effort to get some good out of the situation going down in flames, Jack now had absolutely nothing to lose.

Jack glared at the General and with all the gall he could muster, he told him, "In that case, sir, you can go right to hell. All y'all can fuckin' burn."

The uniform of the detainees didn't include a StatSuit, so Eva could feel the beads of sweat trickling down her back. There was no talking her way out of this. The fact that they were here was proof that someone managed to tear apart Jeff's story, but the new narrative they cooked up was every bit as false and ten times worse.

They were trying to say that she was part of the conspiracy that turned over the Tico to the Shellies. Whatever she'd done wrong, she wasn't a traitor and if they thought they could get her to admit to as much, they had another thing coming.

The best thing she could do was stick to the facts as much as possible. Truth always beats lies, doesn't it?

The trial counsel was deliberately mocking her hesitation. Here was where the truth had to end and she could only hope her lies beat theirs. She was able to convince Commodore Frazier and the Admiral. She was able to get through Intel's investigation. She just had to stick to the story, even if it couldn't save her. At very least, she'd be consistent and maybe, just maybe, she could shield Jeff a little. She only hoped he would return the favor.

Eva was rather proud of herself for not flinching through all that. It came easier to her than she would have ever through. The trial counsel had to pause for a moment and size her up before continuing.

"Who do you think you're protecting, Chief? Lieutenant Wallace? We're all too aware of your illegal fraternization with him. We know he is the one who brought you into this conspiracy. I have to ask you, though, how well do you know him? Do you know that he is a convicted criminal working for ISIS? Do you know that he is responsible for dozens of deaths all from the comfort of his computer? Human life is just a toy to a man like him and yours is no different.

"Or did you think you were special? Do you think he loves you, cares for you, sees you as anything but a useful puppet in his schemes?"

The trial counsel let her have it with both barrels, but Eva didn't back down. She couldn't. Jeff never talked about himself and it was entirely possible that more of the charges leveled against him were true than false, but none of that mattered.

The trial counsel stopped himself. Eva's words had a double meaning and he was sharp enough to catch it.

He gave a low chuckle and said, "I see. Well played, Chief Bianchi. You're a smart woman, but that won't save you."

She was a monster and needed to be buried. She was a liability to her fellow Marines and had no place in the civilian world. There was no need for this farce of a tribunal.

Why did they need to lie, though? What she was, that was enough to condemn her. The more they lied, the angrier she became and the angrier she became, the more difficult it was to stay in control.

Miranda never cared about things like that. It was a stupid angle of attack. They had all they needed to condemn her. It was like they were trying to provoke her. If they wanted to shoot her, they should just shoot her.

Her arm twitched. She had to redouble her concentration. If only she could tune him out, but she was too well-trained to ignore anything around her. She knew it was only going to get worse from here.

If there was anything between Miranda and Hoek it was all one-sided on his end. She had pulled his tail out of the fire once or twice, but it was nothing she would not have done for any of her Marines. But then...

Miranda's restraints creaked as she unconsciously strained against them. She quickly brought herself back in check. She had no choice. Hoek had gone full Shelly. It was kill or be killed and living like that was no life at all. Then again, her life was not much better. Perhaps it would have been best if they finished each other off back then.

Miranda wanted to silence Major Gorman once and for all. The desire was so strong that it was a wonder she could continue to hold herself back. When would it end?

Against all reason, necessity or good sense, Major Gorman continued to press her.

What happened next was a blur. Much like the incident with Lieutenant Cranitz on Phobos, Miranda lost all control when false accusations were laid on Major Knox. She would not allow anyone to dirty his good name on her account or any other.

She came back to her senses when she hit the deck stiff as a board. The fact that Major Gorman was not a pile of hamburger told her that they must have stopped her before she could get to him. Her joints were locked up tight. They must have figured out some sort of override for her exoskeleton. She was not sure if she had taken any hits from the guards' boxer pistols. Either way, it did not matter much as her vision faded and everything went black.

There would be no deals this time around. ISIS had clearly disavowed him. For all he knew, they were in on it, eager to pounce on the first opportunity to cut him loose now that the war was over. Why didn't he see it coming?

At first, he thought they were just after him, but the pre-trial hearing revealed everyone else caught in the net, but it raised more questions than it answered. If they were after him, he could understand Colonel Harold and Eva being collateral damage. Lieutenant Han and Specialist O'Connor were Berserkers, but they weren't the only Berserkers on the Tico, so it wasn't just about the Einherjar Project either. Then there was General Pfeiffer and Colonel Vasquez, the heads of the chains of command but not directly involved with either Jeff or the Berserkers. Yes, they were given cryptic warnings about the Berserkers under their command, but nothing that revealed their true nature, Neither of them had dug into any deeper as far as Jeff knew and he was pretty sure he would've caught them if they tried.

Perhaps there wasn't a single common thread that connected them. Jeff might have suspected there were others, but if the goal was to keep the scope of the sweep under wraps, the nine of them wouldn't have been brought together for the pre-trial hearing.

He could only wonder about the cases made against the others, but the greater part of the charges against him were true. The false charges were just a clumsy tool to tie everything together into a single narrative. If the Union still allowed execution, he'd have enough against him to warrant several death sentences.

Nothing he could say would get him out of it and trying to make a scapegoat of himself wouldn't save Colonel Harold or Eva. All he could do was stay quiet and let them have their little show trial. He wondered who it was even for. They could've just spaced everyone on the ride over, tossed them in an incinerator, chopped up their bodies and fed them to the proles in some barely-legal starport. It would've been so much easier. None of this made any sense.

And maybe that was the trick. So long as they were playing these big convoluted games, maybe there would be an opening. He didn't have all his toys twenty years ago when he broke out of the orphanage. Maybe he could pull off the same trick again. It was worth a shot. All he had to do was watch and wait until the opportunity presented itself.

Her head lolled back and forth as she looked around the room. Greenback, leatherneck, squid... What, no Airhead? Where was the love for the boys in the wrong shade of blue?

The leatherneck in Alphas had been asking her a lot of questions, saying a lot of stuff that didn't make any sense. It was really annoying. If it was something she could make any sense of, she might mumble a yes if it was right and a no if it was wrong. It was hard to keep any of it straight.

The greenback would sometimes say stuff too, but she didn't really pay any attention to him. He didn't seem to like that, but fuck him. She may have said as much, because some leathernecks were taking hold of her and dragging her away. Whatever. Fuck them too.

Though Matt was exhausted, Major Gorman seemed utterly tireless. He did not let up for a moment. He was as tenacious as Lieutenant De Vries was passive. What good was a defense counsel who made no effort at defending his client?

Matt repeated himself, this time a little more loudly.

Matt did not dignify Major Gorman's insinuation with a direct response.

Matt hesitated for a moment before replying, "The First Handmaid of the Empress."

Matt could feel his jaw lock. Even if he wanted to answer, he did not think he could. However, his silence did nothing to slow Major Gorman's advance.

Matt did not answer, so Major Gorman pressed him.

Reluctantly, in a low voice, Matt replied, "Yes."

Matt had no intention of incriminating Lieutenant Wallace. He had avoided doing so this far and was not going to start now. Surprisingly, Major Gorman took up a different tack rather than following the line of questions further.

Matt was not the sort of person known for sarcasm, but this latest absurdity was too much.

As absurd as the proceedings had been up to this point, things had now gone beyond the pale. Whatever sense or logic guided the case against him, it had long since been abandoned.

After everything, Matt had finally reached his limit. He could not take any more of this.

Turning to the General, Matt asked him, "Sir, how long must this go on? Why are you allowing this circus to continue?"

Refusing to give ground, Matt continued, "Sir, I have been honest and cooperative with these proceedings and if you have any honor, you will put a stop to this."

General Ryczek was not listening, though.

The bailiff promptly moved in to take Matt away. Standing up to the proceedings accomplished nothing, but neither did cooperation. He was condemned before any of this began. Part of him knew that from the start, but another part still wanted to believe there was some justice to be had. He was wrong, though, and it was a bitter truth for him to accept.

The guards slammed Colonel Vasquez into the wall before he could go on to the next verse, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He was already on his second repetition by that point anyway.

As a native Martian, the Colonel didn't like talking about Earth as paradise and the homeland of humanity, but he wasn't singing "The Internationale" out of conviction. Because the tribunal was a big sham, there was no reason for him to cooperate. What better way to mock their Soviet-style thuggery? General Ryczek had him thrown out of the courtroom in record time.

It was a wonder he even remembered the words after all these years. His grandfather was as fanatical a Red as you could find and, really, you couldn't find too many people that honestly bought into Marx's bullshit anymore. Whatever avowed Commies were left were mostly just going through the motions.

Colonel Vasquez didn't really care about politics, though. It was all bullshit and whatever letters they had after their name, all the damn pols were crooks. His current situation was proof enough of how crooked the system was. How many years had he served? How much had he bled for the damn Union just to get fucked over in the end?

He wasn't going to make it easy for them, though. If they were going to make his life hell, he was sure as hell going to see that they got their share.

Maintaining as much of her bearing as she could in chains and a detainee's uniform, the General straightened herself up to address General Ryczek.

With a brief glance at Lieutenant De Vries, she said, "Because my defense counsel is a shameful incompetent, I would like to make the closing statement for the defense."

General Pfeiffer did not suppress a grin at the threat.

General Pfeiffer cut off General Ryczek before he could stop her. She would not be silenced. Not yet, at least.

Furious, General Pfeiffer shouted, "You shame the uniform! You shame the Union!"

As the bailiff was dragging her away, she continued to shout, "You should have just killed us from the start! It would have saved you this embarrassment!"

The bailiff was strong and it took him no time at all to pull her out of the courtroom. With just the two of them in the corridor, General Pfeiffer asked him, "What about you, Lieutenant? Whose side are you on?"

General Pfeiffer did not say anything in return. Not that she had no answer but because she realized she was wasting her breath. There was nothing for her to gain and perhaps there never was.