The atmosphere in the courtroom was cold, far colder than Fleet Captain Keziah Nazir had anticipated as she took to the stand. As she walked past the members of the gallery, she could almost feel them casting their own aspersions, their own judgements, even before she had spoken any words of her own. Could she be certain she would get a fair trial here? Vos had assured her she would, but as her second session prepared to kick off, she couldn’t help but wonder if her fate was already sealed.

Captain Kerina Marten stood across from her, a predatory gleam in her eyes as she held the case file data PADD in one hand, ready to pounce. Every move she made, every glance she gave, was perfectly in keeping with how she intended the session to go. This, the Cardassian believed, would be the time that Nazir would put the final nail in her proverbial coffin.

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” Marten finally began, her voice crisp and unyielding, “your report clearly states that during the mission to Eridanus, your priority was the protection of a critical military base. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Nazir nodded, her hands folded neatly in front of her, steady enough. For now. “The base held sensitive intelligence. I couldn’t allow it to fall into enemy hands,” the Trill confirmed, her gaze never drifting from the Counsel, not even for a nanosecond.

Marten took a step forward, her gaze locked with Nazir’s. “And this base, you believed, was the target of the True Way?”

Nazir’s eyes flicked momentarily toward Captain T’Prynn, her defence counsel, before being drawn back to Marten. “That’s right.”

The prosecutor paused, glancing down at the file in her hand. A heavy silence stretched through the room, thick with anticipation. She was clearly focusing on something she’d read, and that had piqued everyone’s curiosity.

“Tell me, Fleet Captain,” Marten continued, her voice lower now, and far more menacing, “were any of your senior officers aware of this base’s existence?”

After hours of travel, and the continued frustrations of the Captain, Lakota had finally arrived in orbit of Eridanus. Intense scans had so far turned up nothing, no reason at all for the communication’s blackout, yet still they couldn’t raise the planet. The only reading on their sensors were civilian transports on the extreme edge of sensor range, but that wasn’t enough for Nazir, though. She continued to grow more anxious with every passing moment of silence from the surface. There had to be someone down there, someone in the Starfleet base. Tapping in some coordinates on the arm of her chair, she ordered intense scans of the northern hemisphere, to identify the base’s location.

As asked, both Voran and Commander Teyahna scanned the coordinates that the Captain had sent them. Both failed to turn up anything.

“Captain,” Teyahna turned in her chair and took a deep breath, composing herself, “I’m not seeing any evidence of a base on our scans. Are you sure there’s something here, ma’am?” the Orion asked, as respectfully as she could, taking into full account the Captain’s… odd behaviour.

Rising from her chair, the Trill practically sprinted from the command area and joined Voran and Henry in the forward positions.

“I know it’s there, Commander. It’s just hidden,” she revealed, leaning forward to tap on Mitchell’s station, “likely buried deep beneath the surface, shielded from our sensors. We can’t let the True Way get their hands on it.”

Noli shook her head slowly, only stopping when she made eye contact with Teyahna, who looked more than a little concerned about the Captain’s instance of the base’s existence. Pushing herself out of her chair, the XO descended a few steps and came to a halt beside Nazir. Lowering her voice, the Bajoran leant slightly towards the senior officer’s position.

“Captain,” she whispered, “there’s nothing in our mission briefings about a facility on Eridanus. Surely Starfleet would have informed us if there was something this important—“

“They didn’t inform us because they couldn’t risk it being leaked,” Nazir remained steadfast, resolute, focused on her target. “Trust me. We’re sitting on one of the most crucial assets in the sector.”

Pacing the floor between dock and bench, Marten carefully considered her next question. “You were certain that this base existed, even though none of your senior officers had any knowledge of it?”

To her credit, Nazir remained as stoic as ever. “I was operating under classified intelligence. I couldn’t share everything with my crew, but the base was real. I know it was.” Given her tone, it was hard to think anything other than she believed what she said. 

“I see,” Marten nodded slowly, and then tapped on her PADD before waving it in the air. “Fleet Captain,” the Cardassian smiled, “according to Starfleet’s official records, no such base existed on Eridanus.” Was this it, the smoking gun that sealed the Trill’s fate?

T’Prynn swiftly rose to her feet behind the Defence Counsel’s desk. “Objection,” she called out. “Speculative. The witness may have had access to intelligence outside of the scope of standard reports.” Her objection was unlikely to be accepted, she knew that, but it did as intended and bought her client some much-needed breathing space.

Despite the desired intent behind her objection, Fleet Captain Vos considered her words for a minute before ruling. “Overruled. Proceed, Captain Marten.”

Pressing home her attack, the Cardassian stepped forward and leaned on the table in front of the defendant. 

“Fleet Captain Nazir,” she addressed the woman clearly, “if this base was never part of Starfleet’s operations, how do you explain the decision to prioritise it over the safety of the civilians?”

Even an hour later, scan after scan had concluded there was no hidden base on the planet’s surface, just as her staff had told her. Most had grown weary, and begun to go about their usual day-to-day business (albeit a lot earlier than intended), some trying to master the art of sleeping with their eyes open to avoid detection. Lauren Mitchell, the younger of the Mitchell siblings, was almost dropping off at tactical when her station beeped furiously.

“Captain,” she called out, full of tension and concern, “we’re getting calls from the civilian transports—they’re under fire!”

“We need to hold our position,” Nazir shook her head firmly. “If the base falls, this entire region could be destabilised. Inform the transports that they should close distance with us, and we’ll support them once they enter weapons range,” the Trill never once removed her gaze from the sensor readings of the planet below.

For Noli, she had seen enough. Looking across at Teyahna, Mitchell and co, she knew she had to do something. “Captain, I must protest. We’ve found no evidence of this base. We have to break orbit and protect the transports!” She hoped her words would be enough to see the Captain snap out of whatever daze she was in, but the Trill was practically glued to the spot.

“No,” the Captain shook her head again, “the base is here. If we lose it, we lose the sector…”

Standing all smug, like the Vole who’d got the cream, Marten smiled, clearly enjoying the unease the defendant felt as she delivered her next question. “Fleet Captain Nazir,” she addressed her target again, “did it ever occur to you that this base—this so-called vital asset—might not have existed?”

And now, under the questioning of the prosecution attorney, Nazir showed the first sign of faltering. Beads of sweat formed on her spotted brow as she absorbed the Captain’s words. Her hands grew clammy and she was visibly shaken.

“I… I was sure it was there. The intelligence I received—it was…”

Interrupting the defendant, the Cardassian surged forward like the tidal waves of the Century Storm. “Do you believe it’s possible that your state of mind—under stress, and with the use of unauthorised medication—may have caused you to imagine a threat that wasn’t real?”

T’Prynn had seen enough. She wasn’t going to let her client be verbally battered on the stand, no matter how guilty she may or may not have been. “Objection!” she barked, rising to her feet. “The prosecution is leading the witness and assuming facts not in evidence.”

Vos, as impartial as ever, felt a tinge of sadness for his peer. Leaning forward, he gave his response in a stern, gravelly voice. “Sustained. Captain Marten, rephrase your question,” he ordered her.

Reigned back in for the moment, Marten nodded respectfully then turned back to her victim. “Fleet Captain,” she’d lowered her voice now and seemed a little more… human? “Is it possible that the decision to defend this base was influenced by something other than intelligence?”

In the gallery, for the first time since the Captain had taken the stand, Noli struggled to watch. She’d done this to her Captain. She’d put the Trill in this position, to be publicly mauled by the prosecutor. She could see how much her friend was struggling, and so could everyone else in the gallery. It was uncomfortable viewing for someone so well respected.

“I… I don’t know. I believed it was real. It felt real,” the Trill tried her best to answer.

“And that belief cost the lives of hundreds of civilians,” Marten barked, the momentary glimpse of empathy evaporating in an instant, “didn’t it?”

Tears welled in the corner of Keziah’s eyes, the woman a broken shell of the Captain who had taken the stand earlier in the day.

“I made the choice I thought was right at the time,” she spoke in a hushed tone, her despair clear for all to see, “but I was wrong,” she admitted at last.

With a sinister glare at her target, the prosecution counsel did everything in her power to hide the satisfaction she felt.

“No further questions, Fleet Captain.”