"Guilty!"
The grim figure of the Archon banged the gavel on a well-worn spot on the bench top before him. The appalling verdict rang in the ears of the outraged Offender as well as the court-appointed Nestor and Public Conservator, although to them there was no outrage or surprise; the verdict in a Cardassian court trial was always 'guilty'.
"This is insane!" cried the Offender, a young woman with long brown hair and smoldering eyes. She struggled fiercely to free herself from the two guards flanking her, but her wrists were bound behind her back and she could do nothing. "You can't do this to me! I'm a citizen of the United Federation of Planets and an officer in Starfleet!"
"SILENCE!" bellowed the Archon, banging his gavel loudly in an effort to restore the order to his courtroom that this frustrating human continued to insist on disrupting. "You will cease causing these disruptions, or else I'll have you put in a strait jacket and muzzled!"
Jazz was past listening to this pompous government marionette though, and continued struggling against the iron grips of her guards, livid beyond all reason. She managed to twist her legs around and in between the legs of one of them, and wrenching mightily sent him tumbling over backwards. Thus half-freed, she body-tackled the remaining guard, plowing her shoulder deep into the pit of his stomach. He doubled over and began wheezing painfully, the wind knocked out of him, releasing his hold on Jazz's arm.
She lunged at the Archon's raised bench, determined to end this farce of a trial even if she had to kill the Archon -- or get herself killed -- to do it. In her mind, she had little choice; she knew there was no chance of legal appeal -- once a guilty verdict was decreed, that was the end of it. She had absolutely nothing to lose.
The Archon was prepared though. He had presided over many war criminal trials since the war between the Dominion and the Alpha Quadrant began, most of them with human Offenders, and they were always terribly troublesome. He was once again utterly dismayed that a species so completely uncivilized could become such a power in the galaxy. It was about time the humans were put in their proper place, and the Cardassian Union's new allies from the Gamma Quadrant were doing a good job at accomplishing just that
Just before the wild-eyed woman reached his bench, he pressed a small button under the bench top. Immediately she jerked to a stop, twitching spasmodically in place. Her facial muscles, no longer under voluntary control, pulled her countenance into a caricature of an animal snarl. The electro-restraints built into her wrist bindings held her immobile, flooding her muscles with random electric shocks until the guards rushed over and regained their hold on her.
None too gently, the guards grabbed her arms and dragged her bodily back from the Archon's bench. Later, after the trial and back in her jail cell, they'd be sure to remember to properly pay her back for humiliating them here in from of the Archon.
Satisfied that order had been restored, the Archon banged his gavel, getting everyone's attention, including the still weakly-struggling Jazz. He captured and held her gaze and delivered the sentence. "For crimes against the Cardassian Union in a time of war, you, Commander Jasmine Phoenix, are hereby sentenced to immediate imprisonment on the penal planet of Lazon II, there to live out the remainder of your natural life."
The gavel banged once more, and the fate of Jazz Phoenix was sealed
Jazz sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, throwing off the light blanket that had been covering her. Her breath came in ragged gulps and she could feel her heart pounding so hard that she thought it would explode out the front of her chest and splatter on the ground.
Every muscle clenched, she frantically darted looks around, trying to remember where she was -- the memory of lying in a pool of her own blood on the filthy floor of a stinking Cardassian jail cell, barely conscious after yet another thorough beating by her jailors was luridly vivid in her mind. She reached up with a trembling hand and felt for the long scar running down the entire side of her face -- a hideous reminder of those times. But no... there were no walls around her here, no tormentors; just the cold, impersonal stars above her interspersed throughout the faintly visible amber interstellar nimbus of the Badlands.
She remembered. Looking at her blanket she saw the familiar Starfleet emblem, and lying around the low campfire were the five women who had come here to Lazon II to rescue her, sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of her nightmares. In a few more days, starships would begin arriving, and she'd be whisked away from this place forever.
If only these five women could have shown up twelve years ago, or better yet, burst into that courtroom on Cardassia Prime and broken her out of there before the trouble started. But the past was done; it couldn't be changed. She'd just have to live with the nightmares, as she'd been doing every night for the past twelve years.
Sighing, she gathered her blanket about her again against the chill of the early pre-morning hours, and drifted fitfully back to sleep.
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