"Oyez! Oyez! This court will now hear the case of Galactic Space Marine Corporation and the people versus Josephine Jenks, erstwhile captain of the GSM shuttlecraft AKS-226-V2D-4 (GSM registry), commonly known as the Wunlon Hero. Will the defendant please step forward and be identified?"

From the rear of the courtroom came a woman who appeared to be in her mid thirties, well tanned and fit. She wore the dark off-green prison uniform as if it were an honor to be so dressed. A vague smile played at the corners of her wide, thin-lipped mouth. For the bailiff she allowed herself to give thumb and retinal scans and have a sample of skin scraped for DNA testing. When the bailiff returned with positive identification confirmed, Ms. Jenks stood at attention before the judge's bench for the reading of the charges.

"Ms. Jenks," the judge began, "you are entitled to be represented by counsel. Do you have a lawyer?"

"No, your honor."

"Would you like the court to appoint a qualified defender to speak for you? It is your right under the multinational treaties which govern space law."

"Your honor already knows the only lawyers allowed to practice in these courts are corporate toadies who'd gladly sell any innocent victim of corporate displeasure out. It is also my right to defend myself, and I claim this right."

"Such an outburst impugns the integrity of this court and will not be tolerated. Any further such and I shall be forced to find you in contempt. Is that understood?"

"Yes, your honor. I shall say no more on the subject and let the record of these proceedings speak for itself."

"That is better. Huh?" The judge knew he'd been tripped in a way he could not object to without impugning his own very scanty integrity. The way to prove her wrong was to proceed with dignity, honor and integrity, upholding and enforcing the laws he'd been sworn to. And in this case, as with most Judge Lopez presided over, that was out of the question.

"Ms. Jenks, you are charged with the sabotage of your employer's vessel, the Wunlon Hero, with the loss and destruction of said vessel and its cargo, with theft of cargo, and with the murders of three of your crew, to wit, copilot Marjorie Hotchkiss, communications officer Miloslav Smokov, and purser Rudolf Gottschalk. How do you plead?"

Josephine fought off the urge to drop to her knees, clasp both hands together and say, "Like this?" It was not a moment for mockery. She held herself stiffly erect and tried to keep her voice level. She said, "Not guilty to all charges, your honor. Have the prosecution present its evidence, that I may refute it."

Ms. Jenks was allowed to sit at the defense table, a barren expanse of expensive lumber designed to host a fleet of lawyers and their brief cases. She was well aware of the impression this would have on the courtroom. The prosecutor's table was crowded with GSM legal staff. She decided to milk the situation for sympathy.

Before GSM's mouthpiece could begin his opening remarks, the shuttle pilot said, "Defense requests paper and pencil."

Judge Lopez frowned and turned to the bailiff. He replied to the judge's raised eyebrow, "For their own safety prisoners are forbidden sharp or potentially dangerous objects like pens and pencils."

When the judge turned back to the defense table Josephine again had the faster tongue. "Defense moves for a mistrial, your honor, on grounds that defense is being forcibly forbidden even the simplest tools with which to make notes and prepare, much less present, a defense."

"Motion is denied. Bailiff, under the circumstances, can't we relax this rule for the trial?"

"If it please the court," the GSM lawyer said from in front of the bench, "as a gesture of magnanimity, my colleagues will provide the defendant with a legal pad and pen."

Judge Lopez nodded in relief. One of the armed guards standing behind Ms. Jenks brought the writing materials over and placed them before her. She smiled at the judge and thanked the guard and prosecutors.

GSM's lead lawyer began with an account of what happened. "On the fourth of last month the Wunlon Hero was flying a routine mission from the Salt Lake City spaceport to our transshipment AE in geosynchronous orbit. Its cargo was mainly but not entirely construction materials for a new resort being built in lunar orbit by a consortium of investors. There were no passengers this trip, thank goodness. The odd bit of freight is very important, a thermo- and radiation-shielded packet about a foot high, half a meter deep and a meter and a half long. While the rest of the cargo is accounted for, this parcel has completely vanished under very suspicious circumstances, your honor. The shipper has refused to divulge the contents, but had it insured for the legal maximum of 1.2 million international credit units. The prosecution alleges and intends to prove that the defendant deliberately and with malice aforethought set plastique explosive compound onto the cargo bay doors, stole the missing cargo packet, and detonated the explosive, causing the deaths of three of her crew members by decompression. The shuttle Wunlon Hero has been recovered by salvage shuttle from our AE warehouse. We will begin the evidence and testimony with this report, GSM and people's exhibit A …"

Josephine quit listening. The corp lawyer would belabor the uncontested physical evidence because he had nothing to tie it to her except innuendo and rant. GSM had bought the judge and the conviction. This was a foregone conclusion. But the shuttle captain knew the stronger she could present her case, the easier her sentence would be and the easier it would be to call for a retrial when the truth could be proven, and win her pilot's license back.

It all boiled down to one thing: How badly did GSM want to humiliate a former best pilot? It was revenge, but not merely for the deaths of the crew. The missing cargo packet was the key to the whole affair. Where was it? What was in it?

Josephine ran her mind back, paralleling the testimony GSM was presenting in the court. She knew about the packet; the whole crew did. All had speculated about it, privately and with each other, before the launch. Most thought cutting-edge electronics, a few biomechanical or biological specimens for vacuum and null-grav testing. Jenks had her own suspicion—orichalcum, the stuff of magic and enchantment. The case was big enough for all to be right. Somebody had thought it valuable enough to sabotage a ship for it. It could be held for ransom or sold for untold wealth on the black market, the shadow market.

Josephine knew why they accused her instead of one of the other two survivors. The ship's automated security cameras were the main reason. There was only one recorder, so it rotated through a random series of cameras in various locations, changing roughly every thirty seconds. Once the launch activities were settled into the routine of flight, Captain Jenks had started a routine check of the vessel. The ship's engineer had left the bridge about ten or fifteen minutes later to work on a faulty microprocessor chip in his quarters. A dwarf, the only "awakened" crew member, Horace Besterman had survived only because his cabin had remained pressurized while most of the rest of the ship had broken open to the airless void. The only other survivor was the engine room engineer, Ruth Pratt, whose compartment had also remained pressurized and who had her space suit and quarters beside the engine room.

Josephine walked back through her memory of the tour. First stop had been the purser's office, after a quick check of the four empty passenger cabins to make sure nothing had broken loose during take off. Rudy had no one to be in charge of this trip. Josephine recalled he had a fondness for beer, but drunk or sober would always keep meticulous and accurate records. She had then stopped at the galley for a sandwich before moving back to the engine room to visit with Ruth Pratt. Ruth, curiously, had been absent from her post and Rudy had come back to take watch until she returned. Ruth was separated from her husband, a newscaster in one of the many cable news networks, an aggressively lonely man. Ruth knew engines backward and forward and could handle any emergency. She was a valuable crew member.

Rudy had come aft while Josephine was in the galley, wanting to ask Ruth something, and had stayed while Ruth ran an errand. Rudy had mentioned a leak in a suit air tank to his captain, and she'd promised to check on it.

She'd passed Ruth in the crew's quarters corridor. Crew rooms were less spacious than passenger cabins but still had space for Horace's microtronics tool kit. Ruth had hardly had time for more than a suit and a complaint of the mess Rudy would have the engine room in by the time she returned. Josephine had looked in or Horace, who asked her to secure his door so he could work in peace. She'd sealed it for him and went to check on the leaky space suit tank.

Then the thought of the mysterious packet in the cargo hold had taken hold of her. She brought the suit to her quarters to check where the leak was, and had had to put it on to get to the monitors. The leak was in a valve, and the tank was down one-fifth of its supply when it should have been full. Captain Jenks had worn the suit to the cargo bay, without its helmet, rather than put it away in the emergency suit locker. She'd been seen on the security camera in the hall, then later in the cargo hold where she had discovered the plastique on its doors.

In the instant she'd recognized what it was, she'd turned to flee. Then, noting the security camera had clicked off, she'd returned to her quarters to retrieve the helmet before reporting to the bridge.

Then it had been too late.

It was circumstantial evidence, she being in a suit but conveniently sans helmet, in a booby trapped cargo hold just before the explosive went off, and the packet also disappearing, but circumstantial evidence was enough to damn her in her employer's eyes and damn the innocent in this mockery of a corp trial.

The prosecution finished its presentation of the physical evidence and reports of various investigations. Captain Jenks had paid sufficient attention to have a good idea of what had been claimed and proclaimed.

She stood. "Your honor, defense has been denied due process by having no access whatsoever to this evidence. The defense moves for a twenty four hour recess to be allowed to examine these exhibits, as is the right of counsel for the defense."

"Objection, your honor! Defendant has no counsel, and the motion was placed improperly."

"Objection sustained. Motion denied."

"Defense moves for mistrial on grounds of denial of due process."

"Denied."

"Defense moves for summary acquittal on grounds of denial of due process."

"Will you cut that out!?"

Captain Jenks smiled and curtseyed. "I've got to know what's in these reports if I'm going to make a case, your honor. So do you, if you are going to judge this case fairly."

Judge Lopez sighed, knowing the court record would be available for review by appellate courts. "That's true. Court will recess for one hour to allow myself and the defendant to review these documents. Come to my chambers, everyone. Bailiff, bring the exhibits."

An hour later the judge extended the recess and ordered lunch brought in. The physical evidence wasn't damning at all, just the security camera tape that showed opportunity and the absence of the packet which gave motive. Josephine was quick to note the evidence that supported her innocence. Among these was the fact that not the slightest trace of sticky plastique had been found on her, her suit, her quarters or any of her possessions, not even on the life pod she'd ridden back to earth.

When court reconvened the prosecution called two witnesses. These were the other two survivors of the explosion. First was Horace Besterman, the maintenance engineer. The dwarf told of his activities, including working on the chip, the shock of the blast, the good fortune that the bulkheads around his room had held, and his attempts to raise the bridge. He'd thought himself the sole survivor. He'd used the communicator in his room to take over the bridge communications and call for rescue. His S. O. S. had alerted GSM to the plight of their ship.

Captain Jenks had cross-examined the witness. "From the time I sealed your door until rescuers pulled the Wunlon Hero into an airtight dock, did you ever leave your quarters at any time for any reason?"

"No, I did not."

"That is your testimony, that you stayed in your room the whole time?"

"Yes."

"No further questions."

Ruth Pratt was called. She testified she'd been alone in the engine room when the explosion came. Rudy had left earlier. There had been minimal damage to her part of the ship, the main breaks coming farther forward. She had had time to get into her spacesuit and patch the leaks, but the engine room had lost all air in about an hour anyway. She hadn't thought of searching for potential survivors, but only of potential damage to the engines. She'd put all her efforts into making sure nothing had happened to them because of stress on the structure of the ship. Not until they were close to the Artificial Environment had she tried calling out on her suit radio. That was when she learned Horace was still alive and trapped in his room, and that rescue was imminent.

Josephine as her own defense lawyer cross-examined. "When you left your engine room after the launch and before the explosion, where did you go?"

"I went first to the bridge with my launch report, then to the galley, then to the 'fresher."

"This took you twenty minutes?"

"Some things you do there take longer than others. I had a grease spot on my wrist that didn't want to wash off."

"After the explosion you suited up. Did you leave the engine room to enter the rest of the ship, say, to search for survivors?"

"I did open the door, but then I thought what if I opened a sealed room and someone was alive inside it? I stayed with my engines and waited."

"We've known each other for a long time, Ruth; shipped together I think sixteen times. That's exactly what I would have expected you to do. No further questions."

"Jo, I'm so sorry for you."

"Thank you, Ruth."

The next witness the prosecution called was Josephine Jenks. The soon to be ex-captain refused to take the stand. "Your honor," she protested, "it violates every principle of jurisprudence to require a witness to testify against herself!"

"Were you going to testify on your own behalf, young lady?" Judge Lopez scowled.

"I was planning to."

"Then get up here and stop wasting the court's time!"

Josephine rolled her eyes to the ceiling, sighed, and took the stand. The GSM lawyer made her tell of how she had spent her time aboard the ship, with plenty of interruptions.

"Is it policy to leave the bridge during a shuttle flight?"

"Yes, sir. Captains are required to be on the bridge only during take off and preparations for docking. Leaving the bridge between those times gives the co-pilot training and experience, and ensures the captain will be fresh when returning to duty."

"Are you happy to be rid of half your crew?"

"Your honor, I object!"

"Sustained. Counselor, don't insinuate before the witness."

"Yes, your honor. How do you feel about the deaths of three of the crew you are responsible for?"

"I miss my very dear friends and co-workers more than you can begin to imagine. When I find out who set the plastique, there will be hell to pay."

"Why didn't you notify the bridge immediately on discovering the plastique you set?"

"Objection!"

"Sustained. Don't make me warn you again, counselor."

"I'm sorry. Why didn't you notify the bridge?"

"I saw the security camera light up. Bridge monitors those. I thought they knew."

"What did you do?"

"Ran to my quarters and put the suit helmet on. An obvious precaution, but one that saved my life."

"Then you went to the escape pod?"

"Yes, sir."

"Bringing the missing cargo packet with you."

"No, sir."

"What happened to our missing cargo packet?"

"I do not know, sir."

"I believe you do, and that you are lying under oath to conceal its whereabouts. I think you want to sell its secrets and retire."

"Sir, I believe it was removed by the salvage crew with the rest of the cargo, and that you are using it to try to frame me. Your honor, space is my life, my father and mother, my lover, my child, my heart and my soul. There is no more cruel thing you can do to me than force me to stay on the ground for the rest of my life. I wish I had that packet and could bargain with it for the retaining of my license and reputation. Would GSM trade the packet for letting me ship out again?"

"No. We're convinced you're guilty of theft, sabotage and murder, but convincing an impartial court is a delicate matter."

"I'm as innocent as a newborn baby!"

"Prove it. Why didn't you go down with your ship in the grand old tradition?"

"My ship had already gone down. Bridge was cracked wide open, as was my chamber and several interior walls. I had no idea there were any survivors. I just set the locator beacon on the lifepod and rode it down—to find GSM waiting for me. The leaky air tank in my suit meant I couldn't ride the wreck to orbit and wait until I got within suit radio range of a rescue. I had to ride the pod or die."

One of the GSM lawyers at the table muttered, "You made the wrong choice." He might have thought it was under his breath. On the other hand, Josephine thought, it would have solved a lot of problems if she'd been among the victims, for GSM, for the saboteur, and maybe even for herself.

But she didn't think so. Something stunk about the whole operation. She had no idea what, but she was going to find out if it took her last cred. Then heads would start rolling! Captain Jenks had been careful to make a few good friends during her years in GSM employ. They would come in useful as soon as the trial was over.

"When and where did you jettison the cargo packet?"

"Objection, your honor!"

"Sustained. How many times do I have to tell you, counselor?"

"We know you took the cargo packet because it wasn't on the Wunlon Hero when it was brought in. Too many people helped dock and search it. You were the only one to leave the vessel."

"Nice bit of logic, but what can you substantiate that with? It wasn't in the pod, either."

"You're a good pilot. You could have dropped it en route and calculated where it would land."

"Within a few dozen kilometers. And then, knowing how it was shielded, how could I find it again?"

"Locator beacon?"

"Which everyone else can listen to? And from jail? Besides, I don't know anything about radios. Check my files."

"We have been through your files."

"Of course. You'd have to go through them to prepare your case. If you're finished, I'd like to get to the defense portion of this trial. But think—if I had stolen the cargo and dropped it somewhere, someone else would have picked it up by now. You know that as well as I do. But that isn't the reason I didn't steal it."

"What is?"

"I'm an honest pilot. I don't steal."

"Can you prove that?"

"Certainly. Discounting myself, who is GSM's top pilot?"

"Captain Hunsaker."

"He was available to take the Wunlon Hero aloft, and by both seniority and regular rotation, he should have been its captain. But you passed him over and gave the flight to me. Obviously, you trusted me with this cargo more than any other pilot."

"Obviously, and you had GSM completely fooled."

"Wrong, counselor. Someone has fooled—and victimized—both of us. By using me as a scapegoat, you are allowing the real perpetrator to get away with the crimes and covering up his trail."

"This is your testimony?"

"Yes."

"You may step down."

Josephine cross-examined herself to emphasize the total lack of hard evidence against herself, then let the prosecution sum its case. Having exhausted its preparations, the prosecution rested. Josephine stood beside her table. "Your honor, the prosecution has failed to prove even one of the charges against me. Noting this, the defense also rests."

The judge's eyebrows weren't the only ones to shoot skyward at this turn of events. But on a moment's reflection they dropped to their normal position.

Judge Lopez didn't take long to deliberate. He had his orders, but he also had the evidence and there was none. So he ruled to try to cover both angles.

"Captain Josephine Jenks, these are very serious charges which have been brought against you, and your testimony has not removed the shadow of doubt about your innocence. But neither has it been proven that you are guilty of any of these charges. Therefore it is the ruling of this court that your license to pilot spacecraft be suspended until such time as the missing cargo packet turns up. Until this evidence has been found, you are to remain on earth and under the supervision of a parole officer, but shall be free of other restrictions. If the lost packet turns up under circumstances that verify your claims of innocence, your license shall be reinstated, and full back pay awarded with reinstatement without prejudice. If the packet turns up under circumstances that implicate you in its disappearance, the charges will be prosecuted and you will face the full penalty of the law. If the packet does not turn up within two years, your license will be restored and you will be free to seek employment, but will not be allowed to work for Galactic Space Marine or any related company. Do you understand this ruling?"

"Yes, your honor." Josephine was satisfied with the ruling. She intended to find out who had set the plastique herself, and would have nearly a free hand to do so. A parole officer's supervision was a small burden to be free, and two years was a fairly short exile from her beloved space.

The former space pilot already had plans for how she would proceed. A regular private investigator would have too many ties to the industry. She'd never be able to trust one. But a shadow investigator, a corporate espionage agent who could get into space and investigate the AE and its rescue vessel, a shadowrunner, would be the perfect choice. Her limited resources would have to stretch, but with the help of her friends she thought they would. And in an emergency, she could foot the bill with the contents of the missing cargo packet, safely hidden under three miles of the Pacific Ocean, several pounds of pure orichalcum. But where was it going? Why? What use did the metal of magic have in a deep space resort? That would have to be seen . . .

More Shadowrun ™ in Space

Shadowrun ™ in Space: Introduction
Shadowrun ™ in Space: One Lone Hero (fiction)
Shadowrun ™ in Space: GM Notes and Set Up
Shadowrun ™ in Space: Tying the PCs into the Adventure
Shadowrun ™ in Space: PC in Space
Shadowrun ™ in Space: PCs on the Ground
Shadowrun ™ in Space: PCs in Lunar Orbit
Shadowrun ™ in Space: Payoff