| abstract
| - When the court was convened after the two hour recess, Taur Cel-Dral called his first witness: Captain Panaka of the Naboo Royal Security Forces. The dark-skinned man sat somewhat nervously in the witness stand. He had arrived in Coruscant the previous morning and was still somewhat daunted by the surroundings. After all, his previous visit to the city planet had been nearly twenty years ago after Queen Nalanda’s urgent flight from Naboo. Cel-Dral smiled at him over the bar yet Panaka did not smile back. He did not like this short stout man who claimed to be representing the interests of the Republic. Yet since Gunray was on trial—and Gunray had been responsible for the death of Nalanda—he was willing to testify. “Your name for the record?” Cel-Dral asked. “Tallam Panaka,” he answered, still not smiling. “Could you tell me your current position?” “I am Senior Security Adviser for Her Highness Queen Jenerina’s guard,” he said. “And tell me,” Cel-Dral asked, pacing slowly, “what was your position when you last met the accused?” “I was Captain of Queen Nalanda’s Security Force.” “And how long had you held this position?” Panaka stared at him. “I’m sorry?” Cel-Dral gestured weakly to Gunray. “Prior to knowing the accused,” he said. “How long before that?” “Six standard months,” replied Panaka. Flimone coughed. “Cel-Dral?” “Yes, Your Honour?” “Get to the point,” Flimone barked. “Don’t keep us here all day with your routine questions.” “As you wish.” Cel-Dral smiled again at Panaka, the man still refused to return the smile. “Now Captain,” he said, folding his hands across his somewhat protruding belly. “Tell me what your relations were with the accused when you first knew him.” Panaka frowned. “I’m not sure if ‘relations’ is the proper word to use,” he answered. “I watched the negotiations between him and Her Highness that eventuated into nothing. I also watched my men being cut down by his droids, and then was standing near Gunray when he threatened Her Highness to sign to treaty to legalise his occupation of the planet.” “Would you be able to give us specifics of this treaty?” Cel-Dral asked. Panaka didn’t know the answer to this, fortunately Retray intervened before he spoke. “Objection!” he said. “This treaty has nothing to do with this trial as my client has been tried and acquitted for the offence that the witness and my colleague refer to.” “Objection sustained,” replied Flimone after clearing his throat, he turned to Cel-Dral. “I find you having this witness here at all questionable, either keep your questions to this trial or I will move to strike his testimony from the record.” “Yes, of course, Your Honour.” Cel-Dral turned back to Panaka, the interruption had not perturbed him in the least. “I would like you to tell the court of the nature of the accused and how he spoke to the Queen. Was he accommodating in any way to her pleas?” “Not at all,” said Panaka. “If anything he refused any grounds of mercy whatsoever, no matter how they were given. Her Highness was lucky she had the Jedi with her and she barely managed to escape with her life.” He fixed a hard stare at the Neimoidian with these last words. “I see,” gushed Cel-Dral, “and the Queen refused to give in to him?” “Of course,” nodded Panaka. “And Gunray didn’t like this?” “He dismissed it,” Panaka said, “Her Highness refused to cooperate and he said that she would eventually give in to him.” “And what did he do to achieve this?” “He imprisoned the people and denied them food,” Panaka said, “he then started killing one each hour just before Her Highness left for Coruscant.” This remark caused quite a stir with the audience and Flimone had to call for order. Cel-Dral continued his questions. “So Captain, given what you know and what you have told us,” he intoned, coming to rest just in front of his desk, “had it surprised you to hear of the charges against Gunray?” “Not in the least,” Panaka told him, “if anything they cannot be stated more. Nute Gunray is a spineless coward who has the deaths of many on his hands even though he always has others to do his dirty work for him. He has no conception of compassion or even remorse, he only benefits his own pockets at the great expense of many.” Cel-Dral smiled again, Panaka didn’t. “Thank you, Captain,” he said, turning to Flimone. “No further questions.” He nodded to Retray. “Your witness.” Sarn did not need reminding, he has brought a small holoprojector out of his briefcase and had activated it in his hand. Projected from the smooth surface was the scarred visage of a humanoid woman that both Gunray and Panaka remembered well. It was Darth Maxah, the Sith who had been Sidious’ apprentice and killed both Qui-Gon Jinn and Shakya Devi. “This has already been submitted as evidence, Your Honour,” Retray said, setting the hologram down in front of Panaka, “and my first question to you Captain is can you tell me if you have ever seen this female?” “Of course,” Panaka replied, “I'm not likely to forget her, she came with Gunray when he landed after the battle.” “I'm sorry?” Sarn’s finger paused over his thin pale moustache. “Did I hear you correctly, she came after?” “Yes, you heard me right,” Panaka told him. “This is most curious,” Sarn said, he went through the papers he had, “as according to the evidence I have here, it appears this woman—her name for the record is Darth Maxah—was responsible for the death of Jedi Shakya Devi which I understand happened prior to the invasion.” “Look,” Panaka said in an angry tone, “just because I didn’t see her doesn’t mean she wasn’t there. I knew she was around, of course as I had to take further security measures to protect Her Highness.” “How did you know this?” Sarn inquired. “The younger Jedi who was with Master Devi came to me for help and told me what had happened,” Panaka replied. “I didn’t see this Maxah myself until she came with Gunray, but I knew what she had done.” “Do you know, Captain Panaka, what a Sith is?” Sarn asked airily. “I have heard the word once or twice,” Panaka admitted, “but I cannot give you an answer of any accuracy. If you ask me if I believe this Maxah was a Sith, then my answer would be yes.” “And do you believe that she was working for my client?” “I’m not completely sure,” confessed Panaka. “Not completely sure?” repeated Sarn. “My dear Captain this is a court of law, you must either say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ as any form of uncertainty is not normally tolerated. Let me put this another way,” he paused, considering. “Did this Maxah take orders from my client?” “As far as I understand—” “Just answer the question!” “No.” “Did she give the impression that she was under orders of the accused?” “No.” Panaka looked down, he could see the trap that Sarn was setting for him. “In fact he looked rather afraid of her.” “Was this Maxah,” continued Retray, “giving orders to my client?” “No.” “This is rather interesting,” said Retray, permitting himself to smile a little. “If this Maxah was not giving orders, and not receiving orders then what was she doing there at all?” “I cannot answer that,” Panaka told him. “Could she,” mused Retray, walking slowly back towards him, “have been under the orders of someone else?” “Possibly,” conceded Panaka reluctantly. Retray smile widened. “Tell me, Captain, does the name Darth Sidious mean anything to you?” “Yes, I have heard it, as have all of us on Naboo given that Palpatine was our senator for quite a number of years,” Panaka replied. “How likely is it,” said Retray, “that Maxah was under the orders of this Sidious?” “Well if both of them are Sith I would say it is possible,” agreed Panaka. “But I am afraid I cannot give you a more definite answer than that.” “And finally, for I don’t intend you to keep you on the stand much longer Captain, tell me, as a man with your experience, what your judgment is if my client was in contact and working with this Sidious?” Panaka thought for a long moment. “Well I would say he is a fool from the start to have dealings with him,” began Panaka. “And that the only smart thing he did was try to break this off with the Sith Lord. Yet if what happened to Naboo was on Sidious’ orders, then perhaps the rest of what he did during the war can be made accountable. Not,” he added darkly, “can there be any excusing it.” “Thank you,” Sarn said with a nod, “no further questions.” He sat back down. With a bored expression Flimone looked to Cel-Dral. “Any re-direct?” “Just one question Your Honour.” Cel-Dral didn’t even get up. “Captain, is it of your opinion that Gunray would have refused any one of this Sidious’ order is given any?” “No, at least not in the limited knowledge I have,” Panaka replied. “Yet we cannot simply put this down to a case of just following orders.” “Thank you, Captain,” said Cel-Dral with a smile. “No further questions.” “The witness may stand down,” said Flimone. Panaka stepped down from the box. Anakin was leaning against the wall staring at the ceiling when Panaka left the courtroom. He went to stop him, wanting to know how the trial was going without having to endure the tediousness of it. “What’s going on?” Anakin asked him. Panaka looked at Anakin skeptically. “That guy that Gunray has defending him is good,” he told the Jedi. “He’s putting you on the stand too?” Anakin shrugged. “It looks that way.” “Look out for him,” Panaka warned. “He’ll make you trip over your own feet if you’re not careful.” “I’ll remember,” Anakin promised, watching the man go. Cel-Dral put several others on the stand that day. A Neimoidian pilot he had managed to find somehow, a senatorial aide who had been the Viceroy’s prisoner during the war, a leader of a nomadic tribe whose people have been almost obliterated due to Gunray’s callousness…Cel-Dral had had a whole list about three pages long with these sort of sob stories but had chosen to most horrendous to form his case. He asked for details, statistics of casualties and finally for opinions following what had happened. Retray was quick to combat this, thrusting the Sidious story every time and questioning what the witnesses had told Cel-Dral. Could what Gunray have done have been under his own free will? Was there the possibility that he was working for someone else, perhaps under duress? Several times they brought out Count Dooku saying that he was the main culprit but Retray was quick to dismiss, this pointing out that Dooku also worked for Sidious so it did not matter where the orders came from. When a former senator that Gunray had betrayed stepped down from the box, Flimone called an adjournment for the next morning. He knew Cel-Dral still had more witnesses to put forward, and given how long this trial was going to prove to be he knew that he had to put as much time as possible for each cross-examination. When the courtroom emptied Anakin was already outside the building, yet Cel-Dral would not let him leave so easily. “I didn’t see you in there,” the lawyer said. “Didn’t want to go in,” Anakin murmured, wishing Cel-Dral would go away. “All I had to do was wait.” “I have a good case,” Cel-Dral told him. “He’ll be convicted, I assure you.” “He better,” Anakin growled, still not looking at him. “You’ll be on the stand tomorrow,” Cel-Dral said. “Good,” Anakin said, starting to walk off, “the wall there gets quite boring after you stare at it for a few hours.” This time Cel-Dral didn’t try to detain him.
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