| abstract
| - Of all the EDC HQ satellite bases, Area 51 shows the least amount of change from its previous state. Area 51, smack in the middle of the blazing Nevada heat, contains numerous above ground facilities and three Cybertonium landing strips. From the ground, Earth Defense Command shuttlecraft and other aerospace vehicles can be seen taking off and landing at all hours of the day. From afar, a powerful cloaking field hides their presence and confuses long range sensors into thinking normal military craft are here. Unlike the other satellite bases, Area 51 does not hide its existence; instead it hides what it truly is. Most believe it still under the control of the United States Air Force. The base's command center leads directly to the underground GroundBridge terminal connecting it to the rest of EDC HQ, and work with them to monitor the state of all EDC vehicles around the globe. Its defenses are the most conventional of them all, with massive anti-air laser turrets, missile batteries, long range radar dishes, and a whole host of tanks and soldiers here to defend the base. Battlesuit Lars Daalgard Silverbolt Wheelie [Hidden] Marissa Faireborn Talia McKinley This room is a shuttle room. You can type '+destinations' to take an auxillary shuttle from here. Apocryphacius is hovering at a table, in what is surely a very strange circumstance - a Quintesson Judge on trial. What makes it all the stranger is that the defender he has been assigned is an /Autobot/. There are, in fact, Autobots all over the place. Apocryphacius managed to do without his welding goggles while talking with Moonracer, but for his trial, he is stressed enough that he has put his goggles back on. He reflects on the absordity of it all. If he really wished to be gone, he could be. The technology to hold a sufficiently motivated Quintesson simply is not available. Apocryphacius faces this trial because he choses to. He considers Cross's recording at the funeral. The wish that he would be okay. Apocryphacius will just have to see what the verdict brings. Lars Daalgard is among the other EDC troops present in the audience, in the section set aside for officers. Melody Reynolds also sits in the EDC Officer's row- she rests her chin on her knuckles, and leans forward, watching the courtroom with a stony look on her face. She pulls in a deep breath, and then turns to murmur something to Lars- respectfully quiet, given the situation. Talia McKinley is standing off to the side, leaning against a wall, eyes hidden behind a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses. Yeah, she's wearing sunglasses inside. It's a pilot thing. It also makes her expression harder to read, which is somewhat of a necessity considering that, as she's got a fully loaded and armed blaster holstered at her hip, she's been somehow dragged into being security for this kangaroo court due to her previous law enforcement related experiences. Indeed, Apocryphacius was assigned an Autobot representative... but only because that bot was so insistent on taking the case. In fact, here he comes now-- oh sweet lord, it's /him/. Probably the one Autobot Apoc would not want to see right now. A minibot, orange and yellow plating. In his hand is a briefcase of standard size, but a bit too small for him. Around his neck is a tie that has also apparently not been adjusted to suit his neck. "Mr. Apocryphacius! Have no fear! Wheelie, Autobot at Law, is here!" he states proudly, raising a non-mobile hand to wave the Quintesson, before striding up and taking a seat next to the squid, the seat he settles into also slightly too small for him. "Grimlock was supposed to be my right hand bot, but I'm guessing couldn't park in the outside lot..." Wheelie quietly explains as he sets the case on the table, opening it up. Marissa Faireborn sits at the head of the table, acting as judge, highest authority in this tribunal court at this time. She flipps open a folder and looks at her notes and then looks around at those assembled. "Let us begin." She says and raps a gaval against the table. "This is a Military Tribunal into the actions of one Apocryphacius, Quintison and member of the EDC. Before we begin these proceedings, do you have anything you wish to say Appocryphacius?" Apocryphacius winces when he sees Wheelie. Cross's directive to Apocryphacius that he be okay is basically doomed, isn't it? Ah well. He will see this through. He takes comfort in the fact that, at least, he won't be found /innocent/. Apocryphacius looks up and says mildly, "I have nothing to say for myself, sir." At the prosecution's table sits the UN Counsel, obliged to try the prisoner directly since he belongs to no nation and can not be returned to the military of his country of origin. Counsel in this case is a crisp, stern-looking woman of about thirty in a sharply pressed black suit, with long curly black hair flowing down her back. She glances over her paperwork while waiting for the trial to begin, refreshing herself one last time. Wheelie looks through the papers he pulls out of the briefcase momentarily... before apparently they're too imbedded in legal jargon to understand properly. Looking up at Ms. Faireborn, he clears his throat. "The defense would like to make a a questioning statement: what is the meaning of this undeserved beratement?" Marissa Faireborn looks out over the gathered courtroom and those standing guard before she begins. "Apocryphacius, you hereby stand charged with the following crimes. Exerimenting on a prisoner, stabbing a superior officer with a syringe and ignoring order of your superior officer. How do you plead?" Melody Reynolds winces a little as she sees Wheelie enter- and then, her eyes flick to the prosecutor...who is, notably, an actual lawyer. "Oh come on." She says, and rubs at her face a bit. "Think that's cause for a mistrial, right there?" Melody Reynolds so mutters to Lars. Wheelie mutters to Apocryphacius, "... be a bit... a... fight." Wheelie whispers "...you're innocent, right? If not, this may be a bit of a hard fight." Talia McKinley has to do her best to not snicker at Melody's revelation at seeing an actual lower, eventually resorting to ducking her head for a moment so her face is hidden from view by her everpresent cowboy hat. Apocryphacius looks to his attorney when he is asked how does he plead. He puts up two tentacles and spread them in something of a 'what can you do' gesture. Well, yes, he did all of those things. Apocryphacius mutters to Wheelie, "... I... of every... under... sun." You whisper "...strictly speaking, I am guilty of every crime under the sun." to Wheelie. Lars Daalgard mutters to Melody Reynolds, "... not... Autobots... represents..." Melody Reynolds mutters to Lars Daalgard, "Maybe... a Decepticon... to balance..." Wheelie grimaced a bit as the facts of the case begin to unfold a bit more around him. This was hardly looking good, and if he didn't think of something, Apocryphacius was gonna get the guilty verdict! He couldn't let that happen now! Wheelie banged his fists on the table, which creaked threateningly under the weight. "Objection! I offer rejection of your ridicolous suspection! If Mr. Apocryphacius actually did take this direction, it could not have been by his own election!" "..." Talia actually looks up again at that, shifting a hand to pull her shades down and peer over the rims at Wheelie. Did he just rhyme that -entire disagreement-?... Apocryphacius mutters to Wheelie, "... I... General Cross with... trying... blow up... planet,... I suspect... have... if... had... so.... prisoner... But I was under... Autobot Wheelie,... I... usefulness..." You whisper "Yes, I stabbed General Cross with a syringe. Yes, I disobeyed his orders. He was trying to blow up your planet, Cybertron. I suspect you would not have liked the results if he had been allowed to do so. As far as the prisoner goes... I regret it. Intensely. But I was under orders. I appreciate your efforts, Autobot Wheelie, but I think I have outlived my usefulness to the planet Earth." to Wheelie. UN Counsel coughs pointedly, glancing at the tribunal. "Your honors," she asks, adjusting her rimless glasses, "can we look forward to an orderly proceeding, or will we be humoring 'objections' before any presentment of fact, or indeed a pleading, has been offered?" Wheelie mutters to Apocryphacius, "... you... did, you... good... my... see... Just... me some time... you've... done... lot... your..." Wheelie whispers "If you did what you did, you had a good reason! I'll see my rims rust before see you convicted of treason! Just give me some time and I'll work out a plan; you've done done a lot and we owe, now leave it to your main man!" Apocryphacius mutters to Wheelie, "You... try... plea.... amazingly... Quintessons.... would... my... All... millions..." You whisper "You could, I suppose, try for an insanity plea. Insanity is amazingly common in Quintessons. In that case, however, I suppose that I would be institutionalized for the rest of my days. All those millions of years to come." to Wheelie. Marissa Faireborn let out a quiet sigh as she heard Wheelie go into his rhyme. She looked over at Apocryphacius, "Care to explain your standings on this? Or shall we just guess at the meaning behind you taking this direction but not of your own 'election'..." She raises an eyebrow, nto sure if she should be amused or slightly frustrated. Apocryphacius sighs and finally decides on a plea, "Nolo contendere." No contest. Effectively guilty. Maybe he can hope for a plea bargain? Probably not. The UN needs a scapegoat after all this. Wheelie's optics brighten up a bit at Apocryphacius' plea, before slapping the table. "Mr. Apocrphacius, you can't do this now! I'm getting a plan together, you'll see how! You weren't to blame, this is so lame! We may be down, but we're far from out of the game!" "Well at least this isn't as boring as most court hearings," Talia mumbles mainly to herself. "This is, I'm sure, amusing for the baliffs," remarks the UN Counsel, "but I feel it bears mention that the defense counsel, so-called, despite whatever personal fondness he might have towards the defendant, is not licensed to practice law and even as an amateur is clearly no more qualified to address this court on the defendant's behalf than would be a potted plant." She taps one of the papers on her table with two fingers and adds, "In light of the seriousness of these many, many charges, and the punishments set forth in the UCMJ, I feel it would be at the very least a disservice to the Defendant to not at least permit him an opportunity to benefit from legal counsel." Wheelie bangs on the table at the UN Counsel's words, glaring his way. "Wheelie may not have your fancy degrees, your stupid long words or charge ridiculous fees, but I'll run legal rings around you with the greatest of ease!" Wheelie looked up to Marissa dutifully as he stood up, chair skidding back loudly. "Allow me to shows you the error of these pleas!" Marissa Faireborn looks at those gathered, leans over to speak with one of her council and sits back up when someone on the UN Council speaks up. "Nor was a terrorist qualified to lead the EDC but it didn't stop certain members of the UN from backing Xabat." She gave the person a steely gaze. "If that is how you wish to plea, then I will accept it and we will take a short recess. Upon returning to this court, a judgement will be handed down. Are you prepared Private Apocryphacius for whatever is decided upon as your punishment for your indescretions and crimes?" Marissa Faireborn bangs her gavel on the table, "Order in the court!" Melody Reynolds glances sidelong at Lars for a moment...and then she clears her throat, standing up in the audience. Her tone is respectful, but not at all timid. "General Faireborne?" she asks, once the commotion's died down. "If it pleases the court, and the defendant, I'd like to volunteer to assist his defense." She glances over at the Quintesson, and then the Prosecutor. "I took several classes in Military Law at West Point." She offers. UN Counsel flashes a brilliant green glare at Wheelie over her glasses for a moment before she sits down and drums her perfectly manicured pink fingernails briefly on the table in thought. She takes a minute to rearrange her pens. Apocryphacius is seemingly apathetic as he replies, "I am prepared to be judged, General Faireborn." If she wants to stick him with Wheelie because Xabat wasn't fit to be a general? That's fine. He'll go with it. If she wants to swap out Lt. Reynolds? That's fine, too. It is her planet. Her choice to make. Marissa Faireborn looks at Melody and nods, "Actually, Wheelie, Melody, I wish to see you privately. We will have a short recess before the closing of this tribunal." She frowns at the UN Counsel who made the fuss. She was the one who had insisted on this farse in the first place. So Faireborn played along. Now it was her show and she was going to do it her way. She stood up and moved into a private room, holding the door for Wheelie and Melody. Oh good, someone who actually has some sense taking lead of this circus, Talia thinks to herself as Marissa calls others into a private discussion Wheelie blinked at the request, before looking over at Ms. Reynolds, than nodding. Right, this couldn't be bad, could it? Granted, Wheelie was bluffing a little with the whole running legal rings around the UN counsel. but... well, only one way to find out! Playing along and pretending he knew what was going on, Wheelie stepped into the room after Ms. Faireborn, turning around and standing ready. Melody Reynolds nods, and looks to Apocryphus for a moment before she follows Marissa into the back office. As soon as she's inside, she stands to the left of the door and snaps to attention, standing with perfect parade-ground posture, waiting for Marissa's verdict. Marissa Faireborn puts her hand on the doorknob of the small room and looks to Wheelie to see if he has anything else to add before she were to leave to pass judgement. UN Counsel quietly talks on her cellphone and flips a business card between her long narrow fingers. Marissa Faireborn nods and opens the door, stepping out and takes her place. She waits for Melody and Wheelie to resume their places before she looks at the UN Consel and scowles and then looks at the charged. "Private Apocryphacius, will you please stand as you are to be sentenced before this military tribunal." Melody Reynolds slips quietly out of Marissa's office- though this time, she heads to the defendant's table instead of her seat in the rows. She remains silent, waiting to see how it all plays out! Wheelie follows suit... although since Melody has taken what was his seat, he has to stand behind the defense table. It's fine; that chair was too small for him anyways. Apocryphacius hovers up a bit straighter, rising to an approximation of attention. Sentencing. A farce. He is to be punished for both obeying orders on one count and for disobeying orders on the other. What was he supposed to do? Disobey those orders to experiment on the prisoner? The EDC has Quintesson bodies in tubes on Mars. If he had disobeyed, he could have joined them. General Cross was that sort of man. Then, on Cybertron, if he had obeyed? Cybertron would have died, Charr would have lived, and a horde of angry Charr Decepticons would have had their way with Earth. Condemn and blast that he was ever created, Apocryphacius thinks. Marissa Faireborn clears her throat as she looks at the Quintison, "Though your legal council might not have been entirely...legal, Autobot Wheelie has had experience in this sort of thing before. You've also had time to find and consult with legal council on base while confined here awaiting this Tribunal. You have had many serious charges laid before you, some of which have endangered the lives of the human race on this very planet. You have willingly done things that bring shame and dishonor to this military instilation. Though you were working for a terrorist at the time, though unknown to us, he was still your commanding officer and was due all privilages and respect his rank required." "You have plead 'No Contest' to these charges, and thus, have admitted your guilt of your crimes to this tribunal. The sentence for such acts as you've engaged in, is death." She grows quiet as a loud murmur echos through the chambers. Apocryphacius could point out that /Marissa/ herself was working against Cross on Cybertron. He could point out many things, but really, they're all irrelevant. He did what he did, and a human or an Autobot might have gotten away with it, but never one fo his own kind. Then his faces switch around, and Apocryphacius says softly, "Oh. But I am not even innocent." All innocence must die. He doesn't want to die. He's never wanted to die. He couldn't even understand why Cross wanted to die. Apocryphacius transforms into his Apocryphacius mode. Wheelie simply awaited for the second half of this speech from Ms. Faireborn. She /was/ going to elaborate on it, right? Looking cautiously at Apoc, he gave a stealthy thumbs up to let him know things were totally under control. Melody Reynolds nudges Wheelie, almost in a 'be cool' sort of gesture. It's just that Melody's not very cool herself, not to mention it's somewhat unlikely the giant metal robot would even notice her weak elbow-ing. The Counsel for the Prosecution looks both surprised and relieved, but only for a moment before the mask of professionalism slides back over her face, revealing only polite attention. Apocryphacius looks at Wheelie like Wheelie is completely insane. Oh, sure, the Autobots get him killed. He bets they are exceptionally proud of themselves. Apocryphacius considers again the fact that he could just leave. They think they can keep him here? Don't they remember who retrieved Cross from a Cybertronian prison? But if he left, he would be breaking the law... again. But he'd be alive. Marissa Faireborn holds up a hand to require silence, "However, upon review of your file during the inquiry after I resumed my office, I realized what your true age is. By Quintison standards, you are just a child, perhaps to them, nothing more than what a five or six year old is to us in human years. That being the case, I believe I must commute his sentence until he's of 'age', which by my calculations will be in 148 years, making the death sentenct to be carried out in 2181. Until such time, Apocryphacius will be a ward of the EDC." Apocryphacius considers the verdict. 148 years isn't all that long, compared to his potential lifepsan, but it is longer than he has been alive. His faces switch around, and he says simply, "By your judgement, sir." Perhaps he is being irritatingly passive about his own demise, but really, what are his options? Be upset about it? Who would /care/? Run? He'll think about that. UN Counsel takes off her glasses, pinches the bridge of her nose for a little while, and puts them back on. She picks up her papers, settles them in her Murdock, Walters & Spencer Esq. embossed briefcase, snaps it shut, and briskly departs to chew out some poor paralegal for not having realized the defendant was only six years old.
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