(87): Break for Legal Reasons

Nestra’s early foray into a portal world for the sake of cooking was tolerated for nutrition reasons, but not encouraged. She was technically healed, but there was a persistent stiffness and background pain in her poor chest that left her uncomfortable, another sign it was time to slow down. Mazingwe had threatened bodily harm if she tried anything strenuous. Even Sereth had been insistent in a weird, quiet sort of way, by asking her to come eat at his place every time he thought she might be tempted to raid.

It was abundantly clear he had known about the wound, but the rules were the rules, and he hadn’t intervened. He didn’t say he’d been right about her pointless risk taking, and in return, she didn’t whine about not being saved. Sometimes he would glare at her, and she would roll her eyes and wave her hand in surrender. There was no need to speak out the words. Sereth cared about her, but he was an Aszhii envoy of the covens, bound by rules. That was all there was to it.

Her voluntary break also came at the perfect time. The army had wired her the money they owed her for the operation, alongside a massive bonus from the families of the hostages they’d rescued. The Specter guild had also sent her their number via the Mask gleam office so apparently everyone was happy with her right now. She was flush as all hell and in good standing. Sadly, the auction didn’t have an endless supply of weird armor parts so she’d have to wait to feed the Skin more. It was the perfect opportunity for her to go to the gym and do some training. She found a range where she could shoot several hundred creds worth of ammo over a few hours practicing her form, and by mid February she was back to peak condition. The Little League raids had resumed as well. It was at the end of one such raid that Helena snuck into her den for couscous with merguez and a respectable amount of homemade harissa.

“This is pretty good!” Helena exclaimed.

She almost looked normal now, but Nestra could spot a certain pallor that would not leave her face. Her dark eyes still peered hungrily over persistent shadows. Right now they were focused on her plate.

“So, uh, not that you asked but… mom is doing better. I think? She looks a little guilty. You know. In case you want to reach out…”

Nestra considered the offer while she cut her merguez into thin slices. She was doing better herself. In a way, Aunt Claire screaming at her had made her realize that two members of her family accepted her as she was. It really helped with her mood, and also gave her more sympathy for her mother. It was difficult to assess how traumatized the first gens were. The only thing people could agree on was that they were as scarred as they were dangerous, and they were really, really dangerous. It was a lesson she sometimes forgot.

“I think it should be her who takes the first step,” Nestra replied. “I don’t mean it in a prideful way. I’m not offended or anything. I just think she will move when she’s ready.”

“Oh, ok. Sure. I guess.”

“Ok, and also, remember Albert?” Helena added nonchalantly.

“Yes I raid with him quite often,” Nestra replied.

“Yes, well. We had sex.”

Nestra almost spat her mouthful.

“Wha— Buh!”

“It was my first time. And don’t worry we were safe. Also I asked Sashimi to bite me during the Cooking with Crescent raid.”

This time true Nestra exploded out of her mask.

“HELENA! How could you! This handbag…”

“I asked her to be gentle, and she was. I just want her to come play more often. She can eat more and protect me at the same time, that way.”

“Helena? The hell? She’s a void. Fucking. Shark. They’re dangerous! Their bites mark until you die, or they do! I still have the scar!”

“She also still has your scar on her fin,” Helena noted.

“Irrelevant! And also she had it coming! I will make a seafood platter out of… I warned her. AAAAAAAAAAAH! Wait. She didn’t actually bite you, did she?”

But from Helena’s expression it was all over.

“Light scar on the butt. Because she’s much bigger now,” Helena said, then she turned to bare her rear and, indeed, there was a very faint white scar stretching from Helena’s waist to the middle of her upper leg.

“I’ll skin her alive,” Nestra roared.

“It’s for safety! And fun!”

“What if she eats one of your classmates?” Nestra screamed. “Then what?”

By now Helena was gritting her teeth with an expression of stubborn annoyance.

“She listens to me. And you! When we brought Valerian, she didn’t try to eat him now, did she?”

“Only because I threatened her! She thought he was a self-regenerating buffet!”

“Case in point, she listened to you.”

“And now you’re scarred,” Nestra spat.

“We’re all scarred!” Helena replied, raising her voice in turn.

“How are you going to explain this one to Claire? To Mom?”

Helena paused there.

“Well, hmmm, they don’t have to know. I’ll just tell them it was a light wound I got in a raid. Carnivorous plant ambush?”

“Helenaaaaaaa.”

“It’s nothing really. No need to make an entire mountain out of an anthill!”

Nestra glared. Aszhii were quite good at glaring.

“If this was nothing, why did you just drop two revelations at once to get it over with? Why did you ask for forgiveness, not permission?”

“Ahhhh.”

“You’re being careless too, Helena. We’ve known Sashimi for all of six months and you think you can absolutely trust her.”

“Yes? I do?” Helena retorted.

Nestra threw up her hands.

“I give up!”

“Good! It will be fine,” Helena insisted. “Really.”

“And do our parents know about Albert?”

“No, but I gave hints by scheduling an appointment with the gynecologist. Mom told me to do it before I became, ah, active, and I made no secret of it so she must have inferred. It would just be weird discussing it, you know? Going to mom and dad and saying ‘hey, by the way, I’m not a virgin anymore?’ Not that it’s their business, really. But it would be weird. Really I’m just telling you because… just in case he mentions something. Or we kiss and you find out.”

Nestra shrugged.

“Cannot relate.”

“I should have a discussion with Claire instead,” Helena lamented.

***

Teenage drama notwithstanding, the short break also gave Nestra the opportunity to work on her human gleam self. While her mother had favored ice affinity first because it was easier to teach that way, Nestra was a dual affinity gleam and she’d neglected her electric side. Now that her ice affinity had reached the top of D-class, it was time to improve her bag of tricks.

Unfortunately, her previous teacher was, well, indisposed. That left Nestra rudderless. Without her mom to teach her, she didn’t have a mentor like someone in the army would. The only other person who could teach her was her brother and she'd rather dance barefoot on crushed glass. Thankfully, there was one person who knew how to use electricity. That person was herself. More specifically, her Aszhii self.

Standing in the middle of a portal world, Nestra meditated. This world was a maze of volcanic stones under a heavy sky striated by lightning, honestly the best environment she could hope for at her level. The air was heavy, smelling of sulfur.The guardian waited deeper inside.

On a nearby rock, Miu, another member of the Little League, also sat in lotus position. Nestra turned her attention inward. Deep breaths first. That was the human way.

Most hybrid fighters like her had buffs or fast spells they could use in a pinch. Stone fighters called tremors to mess with their opponents’ footing, or they threw rocks and pebbles at point-blank range. Firesparks enjoyed setting everything around them ablaze, or throwing flames with every strike. Nestra already had her zero aura, but if there was one thing electricity was good at, it was making the user go faster. In this regard, it was almost as good as light.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Nestra still wasn’t sure how it worked but obviously mana only had a passing acquaintance with the laws of physics, so it was whatever. The other issue with electricity was that it consumed a lot of energy, even for a high flow element. With Nestra at the top of D-class, it was less of an issue. What she needed was a basic version of her Aszhii acceleration spell. In order to prepare, she’d checked the runes with Shinran’s training center. It ought to work.

Slowly, Nestra called for electric mana from her core. It was a wild thing, a potential that begged to be released and that much harder to control. Drawing the sigils in her mind, she directed the flow in her limbs. It proved to be too much.

“Ow ow ow.”

Again, Nestra cast the spell, slowing down the release as much as she could to improve her control. It failed again. The mana just didn’t want to slow. It was electricity. It could only exist when it was flowing, and it liked to flow fast.

“Fuck it.”

It would hurt, but it might just be what she needed. Rather than slowing down, Nestra let the electricity go. It stung a bit but she immediately felt the difference. Miu’s breathing had slowed, and her limbs begged to move. She sprung up with a crackle of energy but immediately lost her concentration and fell back on her ass.

“You okay there?” Miu asked from a perch atop a basalt column.

“Yeah, just practicing a new spell.”

“Wired. Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

She just needed a little more practice. She almost had it, she could feel it. Another burst, then a few minutes to recover her mana and she felt something clicked. It was all about maintaining the exact amount of focus without thinking too hard. There was a lot about letting go and trusting the mana to do its thing, apparently. At least for her. She moved, then sprinted to the side, then again.

The spell was stable. She couldn’t keep it up at the same time as her zero aura, for now. That would come in time, and then, she would be a duelist to be reckoned with.

When she stood up, a pulse of mana pinched her chest. She was getting very close now.

***

Nestra’s holidays didn’t last. In a weird twist of fate, she was called to testify at the trial of Mrs. Shinoda, the great police officer’s terrible politician widow. Nestra would have expected the corrupt bitch to settle so she wouldn’t spend the next five decades in the Red House, but apparently she insisted she was innocent. It was certainly… a strategy. Nestra wasn’t sure why. Shinoda might be able to rally followers and claim she was the victim — that was politicking one-oh-one honestly, but the evidence was compelling, and the wind had turned drastically against the opposition after the Hunnigan fiasco. She was obviously done for, and yet she persisted.

Nestra had issues with risk assessment, but others were just incapable of handling reality. Perhaps Mrs. Shinoda had never faced serious consequences for her actions, and so was still in denial that it could possibly happen. Maybe she did that narcissistic thing where she couldn’t have done anything wrong so obviously this was just a conspiracy to take her down, and the fact she’d gone against the law just didn’t factor into her brain. Hard to say. The result was clear though: Nestra was going to be questioned as a witness.

It was a novel experience. She had never been called to the stand when she was MaxSec. The perps were always just there with guns, and just the camera footage sent them to the Red House. She was just the arm of the law. By the time her team moved in, it was already a wrap. Shinoda’s case was extremely complicated though, so convincing a trial jury would take time and effort. And it looked like she would have to participate. The city had put her on indefinite administrative leave (again) so she could dedicate her time to the task. And training and raiding.

Honestly, she was privileged. With Ragnarok treating her like a missile, Nestra had more time to herself than almost any other employee of Special Affairs. It was an incredible boon that would make her the envy of the entire city. And all it took was to be in mortal danger every three months or so. Practically a bargain.

***

The prosecutor in charge of the case was a kind old anglo baseline with thin glasses and a surprisingly soft voice. He received her in his office in the Beacon, a tiny room nestled against a support pillar with a surprisingly nice view of the Town Hall. After offering her coffee, he had her go over her entire testimony, focusing on her deposition. He was quite thorough. When he was done with her, she was told she wasn’t done yet.

“Your part isn’t the most important one — you merely started the process. I still expect you to be attacked by the defense,” he explained after they were finished. “You are a weak link, as one of the more, shall we say, emotionally involved witnesses. My colleague Miss Moreno will explain it better.”

Nestra checked the clock. It was approaching noon. They had already been at it for almost three hours, and she was feeling restless.

“It’s important,” the prosecutor insisted in a fatherly voice that was hard to refuse.

The room Moreno had picked for the interview was small and windowless. Moreno herself was a short and fit pinoy with an unobtrusive head implant and an expression like she was two seconds away from jabbing Nestra in the nose. No nonsense didn’t even get close to describing her.

“We will now be conducting mock interviews. I’ll play the part of the defense lawyer. Listen, Nasution is an old fox. Her client is very obviously guilty, but there is still a way for her to create doubt, and that way is you. Okay?”

“Okay?” Nestra repeated, unsure as to how it would happen.

“She will push you. Her goal is going to make you emotional and angry. Defensive. Juries don’t trust overly emotional or defensive witnesses. She will try to make it look like you’re the mastermind —”

“Good luck with that.”

“Don’t interrupt. Mastermind behind a conspiracy designed to fuck her client over. Or at the very least, second in command with Kim being the mastermind. If she can make it look like Ito was right in arresting Kim, but he folded in the face of overwhelming pressure from some shadowy government agency, then Mrs. Shinoda has a chance to leave the Red House this decade. It can happen, so take this seriously.”

Nestra nodded. She wouldn’t want to be the reason why her house arsonist got released. Getting to B-class was important but not at the cost of Kim’s life, and Kim would suffer if Shinoda got out.

“I understand,” Nestra replied.

“I’m going to ask you questions. You have to reply and, no matter what, you have to stay calm. My advice is to take a deep breath and a three seconds pause before your answer. Alright?”

Nestra nodded again. She wished they did it after lunch though… but maybe that was on purpose. People were always more aggressive when they were hungry.

“I will repeat,” Moreno said, her face a little too close to Nestra’s. “You lose your temper, you lose the exercise. Got it?”

“Got it,” Nestra replied.

Just start already!

Moreno moved around the table, sat down, opened a file of honest-to-Riel papers, and then looked Nestra in the eyes for a solid five seconds. It was intensely uncomfortable.

“First question. Is it true that you were pushed out of MaxSec due to gross incompetence?”

Ooof.

“Not to my understanding,” Nestra replied after a three-second pause, as advised.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“A no.”

“In the future, please start your answer with a yes or no for clarity. Next question: was your first encounter with my client when you tried to keep her out of her husband’s burial ceremony?”

Nestra thought she could use a pastry.

***

Threshold’s courts had kept some of the military leanings of its humble beginnings — courts being always big on tradition. The judge sat on a dais overlooking the narrow room, lit by strong white lights. He was a stern Chinese man with straight black hair that rose from his skull like pickets. On his burnished face was a perpetual scowl. He was dressed like an officer, with none of the silly wigs other nations still favored (at least according to Nestra’s experience of legal drama).

For her appearance, Nestra had been asked to come in a full dress uniform of Special Affairs, which she had to buy for the occasion. Medals decorated her chest, most notably the one she had been rewarded for saving the diplomatic delegation from the Sword King renegades. Normally, her Aszhii self would loathe being front and center in a narrow room at the heart of her host kin’s power but, strangely, the uniform helped. It was a shield as much as it was a mask. With her uniform on, she wasn’t Nestra. She was the officer who had led an investigation into a corrupt officer. It was more than a disguise, it was a symbol.

She took to the stand very early in the proceedings to explain how she’d decided to start the investigation, also having to identify her deposition which was a little weird but apparently part of the process. The prosecutor had decided to be straight about her primary motivation: Nestra hadn’t believed for a single second that a straight arrow like Kim could have committed fraud on a grand scale. It showed her as emotional, which wasn’t too good, but Thresholders appreciated and understood personal loyalty. And that would help. After they were done, the defense lawyer asked to approach the stand before beginning.

Lawyer Nasution was a short woman wearing a scarf. Her talking style was so close to what Moreno had been doing that Nestra was starting to suspect it had been on purpose. The clipped tone and fast cadence just felt familiar by now. The first question went exactly like Nestra expected.

“Were you in a romantic relationship with Mr Shinoda, the defendant’s ex-husband?”

“Objection: relevance,” the prosecutor said before Nestra could wait her customary three seconds.

To her mild surprise, the judge raised a questioning eyebrow at Nasution.

“Your honor, I intend to demonstrate that the witness engaged in a conspiracy against my client because of an old grudge, and that she has been dishonest in her deposition.”

Nestra didn’t turn towards the judge, but he must have given Nasution permission to proceed because the lawyer returned her laser focus back towards the witness stand.

“Please answer the question.”

“No, I was never involved in a romantic relationship with my colleague, Detective Shinoda,” Nestra replied.

“Is that so? I would like to present exhibit 137-B. Miss Palladian, do you recognize this?”

The lawyer passed her a printed picture showing a blurry security footage showing herself and Shinoda somewhere in their assigned hab block.

“This is surveillance footage taken in District 15 last July. Can you describe what’s on it?”

Nestra frowned. She couldn’t see the trap.

“This is Shinoda and I leaving the meat cloning plant on —”

“Thank you, this is indeed Mr Shinoda and yourself leaving an empty apartment on September the 17th of last year. It happened twelve more times just this week. Would you care to amend your previous statement?”

“... no?”

She really didn’t get it.

“Are you telling me,” Nasution insisted, “that you spent between twenty minutes and two hours at least once per day in an empty apartment and you were not romantically involved?”

“It wasn’t empty though.”

“I double-checked,” Nasution insisted, “and not only is this apartment empty now, but it has remained unoccupied for the past fifteen years!”

“Legally unoccupied, but until October, it was the domain of Madam Lin, the matriarch of the hab block. She cloned the meat eaten by the neighbourhood using expired licenses belonging to—”

“Please only answer the question I asked you, thank you.”

Nestra turned to the judge who now had Nasution in his collimator.

“Attorney Nasution, was the building occupied at the time of recording or not?”

“It… shouldn’t have been,” the lawyer grumbled.

Clearly someone had not done their job properly. That was the thing with District 15. Official records didn’t mean shit. They were even lucky they’d gotten the security footage at all.

“Shouldn’t have been?” the judge repeated, extremely unamused.

The lawyer wilted. The judge turned his attention back to the prosecutor who was just sitting there with a peaceful smile.

“Any comment, counsel?”

“Your honor, at this stage, the prosecution believes the defense is doing a better job than we are, and we see no reason to interrupt.”

The judge gave the prosecutor a warning glance that was deflected with the same zen smile. He looked down at Nasution like a bulldog seeing a particularly audacious cat.

“I hope your next questions will be better prepared, counsel. You’re on thin ice.”

“Ahem. Yes sir. Moving on…”

***

Nasution tried and failed to get a rise out of Nestra. After the romance debacle, Nestra was more amused than annoyed, and she refused to take things personally. It was just a game, really. Nasution was trying to trip her. By stopping to think for a couple of seconds and by giving succinct answers, Nestra managed to avoid most of the pitfalls. Nasution only got her to backtrack once, and it was on a legal definition. In a way, her own opinion on herself protected her from hubris. It was a simple trick.

Nestra was, while not stupid, perhaps not the sharpest claymore in the rack. Nasution was an experienced defense lawyer, one of the best money and influence could buy.

There was absolutely no fucking way in hell Nestra could possibly outfox her. She would just get eaten alive.

Therefore, the most logical course of action was to shut up and do exactly what the prosecutor had instructed her to do. There was no ego, no battle, only peace and talking in slow, short sentences.

In a way, it was relaxing. The testimony lasted barely more than two hours, and Nestra was soon allowed to leave. The trial would last another two weeks at the very least, but her part in it was over. Unless they called her back which was very unlikely to happen. It left her some time that day, and since Kim was around, Nestra invited her to a nearby gleam restaurant after making sure talking to other witnesses was kosher (it was). Just as Aunt Claire had smuggled Nestra in back she was still a baseline, it was now her turn to sneak her baseline friend into a private room with a view on the Beacon thanks to the power of money, a military uniform, and looking like the poster child of nepo power.

The restaurant served Sichuan food, heavy on pepper. Nestra demolished five plates and two bowls of rice under Kim’s shocked gaze.

“Is it a metabolism thing?” the horrified baseline finally asked.

“I was wounded recently,” Nestra replied, then she waved Kim’s concerns off before the poor girl could voice them.

“I’m fine now; I just need more food for a bit. And also that Kung Pao chicken is to kill for. Hmm. By the way, I think this is the first time we’ve met in person since, what…”

“Since I was named as Ito’s replacement. I know I said I would make more time for myself and everything…”

“And stop sacrificing your entire existence for the city,” Nestra reminded her.

“I know, I know, but I was just promoted, and the entire department was a mess. And I didn’t know the files or the processes well since there was no onboarding.”

“No onboarding at all?” Nestra asked, a bit surprised.

“Well the guy who should have trained me was in the Red House, and this is one of the most complex financial positions in Threshold. So.”

“How has it been going so far?”

They talked for a while. Kim had freed her afternoon too, so they had more time than usual. In her case that just meant picking the occasional call and replying to urgent mails. During coffee, Kim bit her lips. It was clear she wanted to ask something.

“What is it? You need to sic me on another corrupt politician?” Nestra asked.

“Wouldn’t that be all of them? No. I was just thinking, look, I shouldn’t tell you this, but I got a call from the Manufacturing Compliance department asking about you. They’re checking you out. I think you might get a new mission soon.”

Manufacturing Compliance? What? Nestra didn’t even know they had a department like that. Was it a safety thing?

“Really? I know as much about manufacturing as I do about financial crimes. Meaning close to nothing.”

Kim smiled, and Nestra realized she looked… more relaxed than before. Which was weird given her demanding job but, sometimes, people just needed to find their slot.

“And yet you still closed a case. I think it’s about being scrappy and persistent, sometimes. And the ability to find the proper people to help.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“And an uncanny talent for avoiding assassinations.”

“Oh no not that.”

“They might want to drop you in a situation like a bomb and see what comes out to have a look at you.”

“Very encouraging.”

And yet, although Nestra was still working her way towards B-class, she still had appearances to maintain. Mazingwe had been very clear. She needed to slow down. This might just be the thing she needed.