Naval Operations Headquarters [Message Dump]

[Dieter Schprokets]

The prisoner eyed his visitor suspiciously.

"So you're my lawyer. Why would I need a lawyer, Gaijin?"

The pudgy, and rather sloppy Bretonian sat down heavily, opposite to his client, and responded with a voice which betrayed no patience whatsoever with this arrogant young Kusari commander.

"This is Bretonia, so you are the Gaijin here, and watch your attitude lad, seeing as I'm the only friend you have in about 5 lightyears."

"As to why you would need a lawyer, I'll describe briefly to you the rather serious situation you are in. You know the HMS Thames?"

At that name the young Chujo looked up and nodded. "It was a training Dunkrik we inadvertantly destroyed in the operation to invade Leeds. That was a tragic accident of war. The death of its crew is a stain on Kusari's honour. I know. I was there."

The pudgy lawyer was silent for a minute. Then he spoke slowly in a soft voice.

"You were not only there. The ship you so recently commanded, the Goju Ryu, which now floats in space near Stokes in about a million pieces, fired the fatal blow into the hull of the Thames. The Crown's position is that you deliberately destroyed that ship, knowing it was essentially defenseless, with malice aforethought. In short, they are to hang you as a war criminal, and I am tasked with the wellnigh impossible and thankless job of defending you."

The prisoner was livid with rage, but silent. His lawyer continued.

"As a Bretonian, I could not care less if you hang, and in fact relish the prospect. My niece was onboard the Thames. She was 18."

The prisoner stood and faced his council, who backed off, taken aback by the young man's intensity.

"The fault", the Kusari snarled, "of the death of that ship, lays with her commander, who should NEVER have taken her into battle with limited strength, and with an inexperienced crew, against an experienced Destroyer task force! It was all over before we even knew it! Four salvos was all it took! FOUR! Two of mine, and two of Chijin's! Find that idiot commander's corpse and put HIM on trial for incompetence!"

The lawyer looked at his client and gave him a tired smile.

"I do believe you, you know. But truth is the first casualty of war. The Crown has selected its scapegoat. You know that word?"

The prisoner nodded, resigned now.

"You will likely hang. I will be honest with you. I do not care. But as your lawyer, believe it or not, I will do my best to defend you. We are like that, lawyers. Actors in a play, sometimes, where the outcome is almost predetermined, but we dig in our heals, and fight, and sometimes we win on a technicality. Maybe I'll find one in this case, though I doubt it."

The lawyer picked up his satchel with a shrug. He left some papers on the desk and gestured at them.

"We can meet again later. If you wish to contact me, tell your guards, and they are obliged to relay your wishes to me. Review those papers."

He left.

Chujo John Miyagi sat staring blankly at the papers in front of him for a very long time.


----------------------------------------

"Visitor", the guard announced.

"Tell the fat bastard I haven't finished looking at his documents. He can come back when I ask him."

"I'm not particularily fat, and my parents were married."

The Kusari rolled out of his bunk, and looked up at his visitor. He was tall, thin, and was wearing a black tunic, with an odd insignia on the epaullets.

"Who are you?", he asked tersely.

The visitor smiled, and sat. "I'm somebody who knew your father."

At those words, Miyagi tensed, then stood. "You're a Mandalorian. I've met some of you. In the cockpit." His tone gave no illusion of goodwill.

The visitor ignored his attitude, and continued. "Your English is excellant. Your mother taught you?"

John nodded slowly. "I'm not interested in small talk. You are my enemy. I understand the difference between chivalry and familiarity. Or do you typically engage in meaningless blather with your sworn enemies?"

The Mandalorian smiled. "Of course. Let me introduce myself. I am Dha Piruna. Your father made me Mandalore when he returned to Kusari. A position I held for some short while, before it was taken from me, in our manner."

He sat and turned to face Miyagi. "You are, believe it or not, a Mandalorian. You are son of a former Mandalore, and like it or not, you are one of us. Under our tradition, you do not even have the right to reject your heritage."

Miyagi started to smile, then laughed for quite a while, but bitterly.

"You MUST be joking. I was born with two ancestries, opposed to each other in a brutal conflict, and now YOU propose to add a third? What's next, do I have another visitor from Rheinland claiming I am his heir?"

Dha Piruna looked sadly at the Kusari, then pulled a bottle from his tunic and threw it to the prisoner.

"Got that past the guards. Its an excellant single malt Scotch. It was your fathers. A birthday present he never got to drink."

The prisoner looked sadly at the bottle. "Thank you, but I don't even drink." He attempted to hand the bottle back to Dha, who waved it away.

"Then start drinking now. Prison is a good time to start. Or trade it for something. I don't care. I just thought it was something you should have."

The Mandalorian stood, to leave, but then he walked close to the Kusari, so he could not be overheard, and leaned down to where Miyagi sat on his bunk, and spoke quietly.

"The Thames was not your fault. The Mandalorians know that. A good many of the Bretonian Armed Forces know that. But the Crown will press for a propoganda victory with this trial of theirs, and the deck WILL be stacked against you."

He leaned even closer now, and spoke in a harsh whisper.

"Know this. The son of John Cabot will NOT hang as a scapegoat. We WILL not permit it. On that you have my word."

The Kusari looked up and saw the grey eyes of a hardened killer, and knew Piruna spoke the truth.

The Mandalorian said no more, but left quickly. The guard closed the door, and pretended not to see the bottle.

Miyagi looked down at his father's Scotch, and reflected on his three heritages. Two in conflict.

And now perhaps, all three.

---