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The abandoned cargo container tilts gently at the touch of his landing. It is cold and listless, having drifted aimlessly in the vast, uncaring expanse of space for likely months. The mothership looms overhead, above the darkness-clad form of Frankenstein’s Launch Armor Interface. Light from the ship glints off of the various sharp shapes and cells of his suit.
His dark, electrified powers easily slice through the thin metal door of the airlock compartment, and through the glass separating the airlock from the main storage, Frankenstein sees the abandoned children, huddled together for warmth in their minimal rags. They stare at him, armored, masked, and domineering, with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The optimistic ones look at him with tentative hope.
Though the dark, aggressive helmet obscures his face, Frankenstein offers the children a placating nod. “They’re here,” he reports back through the earpiece. “I think this will be the last of them.”
“Bringing them in now.”
The floor, walls, and ceiling shudder and sway as the container is guided to the ship’s belly with heavy mechanical arms.
“Shit, have you ever seen anything like this?” M-21 mutters as Frankenstein steps out.
Frankenstein’s helmet opens with mechanical swiftness within the controlled atmosphere of the ship. “Language, M-21.” He glances back into the container; the door is torn open but the children hesitate to step out. “There are kids here. But to answer your question, no, I haven’t seen anything like this before.” He sighs, lowering his head. “That makes fifty in total.”
M-21 huffs, mirroring Frankenstein’s dry disbelief. “Having fifty kids and then ditching them in space when they don’t do what you want? And I thought my life was fucked—I mean messed up.” He ignores Frankenstein’s pointed glare at the slip in his word choice and continues more quietly, “But why? Why didn’t they just kill them? It would have been a lot less trouble.”
The corners of Frankenstein’s mouth pull back in irritation at just the mention of the two criminals soon to be tried in court. “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugs unenthusiastically, but his expression twists into wry, amused, disdain. “Maybe they still had some semblance of a conscience, and it was too difficult for them to murder their own children.” His angular helmet flicks closed again. “Not that getting abandoned in space is not also a death sentence.” Frankenstein turns away and steps towards the gates leading deeper into the ship. “You, Tao, and Takeo make the children feel comfortable. You'll see me later.” With that, he leaves, the enhanced limbs of his suit rocketing him through the air.
“And welcome back to Space-SPAN, your trusted Satellite Public Affairs Network for daily coverage of Delta-Phi-S87-Capitola. We are live in The Chamber, and the three head judges take their seats. For those of you just joining us, we are witnessing the case of Earth System 00 v. The Union. Prosecutor Ragar Kertia is about to make his opening statement."
In the grandiose, stately Gregorian styled hall, sparkling with pale ivory shades on the walls accented by a dark blue carpet surrounding the tall judges' stand, Ragar rises from behind his sweeping glass table. He stands tall and confident, having donned his most flawless neon yellow jacket, as he flicks at the device on his wrist to project a screen of notes in front of him. Those same notes are displayed concurrently on a larger screen before the judges, seemingly flickering to life out of thin air.
Ragar begins by recounting a lengthy history, speaking quietly and placidly, even as he himself burns with a violent and personal grudge on the inside. None of this emotion makes it to his carefully calm face as he continues. After an episode regarding political conspiracy against Lukedonia, Ragar divulges, "Mr. Tradio and Mr. Maduke extended their violence beyond Lukedonia, regardless of the costs to both themselves and the rest of what is now 'The First Ruin' but was formerly known as Earth, committing various crimes against humanity including but not limited to: murder, massacre, genocide, unethical human experimentation, use of weapons of mass destruction, kidnapping, use of child soldiers, unjust imprisonment, and torture on a world-wide and interspecies scale."
"After the death of nine of the Union Elders along with other Union elites 667 years ago, the organization was rendered crippled. Mr. Tradio and Mr. Maduke were apprehended and sentenced to exile; however, 250 years later, in 2436, world war resulted in their escape from the island of exile as immense amounts of energy caused a disturbance in the dimensional rift trapping them. They had escaped from Earth before the Union's satellite weapons along with then-new hyper-bombs destroyed the planet. They had had several children together during their time in exile, and now free, they took refuge in a remote community on Mars, where they proceeded to manufacture more children, with the hopes that a noble and werewolf's biological combination would result in battle-ready offspring. Their plan was to have enough offspring for a child-army that would be used to overpower the current regional goverments and eventually murder both personal and political opposition, as well as rebuild The Union to continue their crimes against humanity."
Ragar's opening statement draws to a close as he explains recent developments in the case and a handful of further crimes that took place in the current century before the defendants' recapture. At the end of his exposition, he bows before the judges, an old, well cemented habit antiquated for their setting, and pointedly takes his seat again, eyes drifting over discreetly to Lagus and Maduke.
Lagus's breasts bounce jauntily and entirely unnecessarily as he sighs at the proceedings and purses his lip-glossed mouth at a camera. Maduke sits stiffly and severely next to him, a permanent scowl set deep into his face, his arms crossed, and looking thrice-divorced.
The weasley, navy-suited attorney rises to present the defense's opening statement, the tense, exasperated lines on his face telling of how monumental his task is of convincing the judges and the jury of even a modicum of innocence. For a moment, Ragar feels pity for him, but that emotion is smugly swept aside by a lust for justice and perhaps vengeance as well, but his demeanor remains cool and calm as he eyes the attorney with hawk-like focus. Leaning slightly forward, he extends his arms onto the table, interlacing his fingers and resting them on the cold glass in front of him.
The defense makes vague claims that the Union was a symptom of human greed, and, Maduke and Lagus, being nonhuman, were not directly responsible for the resulting fallout, as they were pressured by the threat of Dark Spear to act or perish, especially in the wake of the vigilante elimination of their friends and allies. Both sides know, however, that it is impossible to deny all guilt of their uncountable crimes. The defendant has only a meager prayer for a lighter sentence. To Ragar, this is an open and shut case.
The prosecution case-in-chief begins as Ragar calls the prosecutor witness, "Sir Cadis Etrama di Raizel."
Raizel, who has been sitting to the side, hands folded on his lap, rises gracefully and drifts over to take his place behind the podium. He and Ragar exchange knowing glances but remain professionally distant before the judges.
"Witness, please state your name and profession to the court," Ragar says, tone mild and respectful even if his words are judiciously sterile.
"Cadis Etrama di Raizel. Noblesse, former Lukedonian executive body. Protecting Nobility fell under my jurisdiction prior to the 22nd century."
"Sir Raizel, may you please define 'Nobility' as used by Lukedonia to the court?"
Raizel, with almost practiced ease speaks clearly and precisely. Such a level of swift exactness with his words, Ragar knows, may draw a level of suspicion from those who know him well enough, and Ragar indeed knows him well enough. From behind the table, he quickly glances over to Frankenstein, seated adjacent to the chair that was once occupied by Raizel. He is in a classic black suit, ribbon in place, having shed his sleek but intimidating Launch Armor. Frankenstein's eyes are trained on his master and the corner of his lip is turned coyly upwards. Ragar does not need much further investigation to know that Raizel's dialogue is actually Frankenstein's, being passed through their bond in real time. He does not comment on it, however, and continues the questioning.
Frankenstein spots Ragar's knowing look, and subtly, his smirk turns towards him, and Ragar pointedly looks back to Raizel.
That the prosecutor is in bed with the prosecution is a wholly private matter.
Tao slams his hand down on the table in front of the projector screen. "Alright! Who wants hot chocolate?"
The children exchange apprehensive glances, many of them still unsure of their predicament. Then, a few raise their hands, then a few more, and before long, a dozens are lined up waiting to receive their sweet, steamy drinks dispensed from the two hot liquid tanks M-21 and Tao lug into the common area of the ship from the kitchen.
As the cups get filled two-by-two, Raizel's broadcasted cross-examination mingles with the background ambience.
"Did it not occur to you, Sir Raizel, that passing judgment upon non-nobles is an abuse of power?"
"They posed immediate and immense threat to myself, my Bonded, my loved ones, and countless innocent civilians. I believe it is rather obvious that preventing terrorism is not uncalled for or unjust."
Hands warmed by their cups, they take their seats again and stare on at the screen.
"Hey look, the boss man's up," M-21 comments, gesturing with his own mug in hand.
The audience at home watches Frankenstein begin his attack with no shortage of evidence, from old Union documents, data, and communication files to his own records of M-21's, Tao's, and Takeo's deteriorating conditions when he had first taken them in from the Union.
"He looks like he's having a good time," Takeo interjects, having taken a seat on the floor.
"I think he'd rather let Dark Spear eat them." M-21 sets his half full cup on the table, having found the drink too sweet for his tastes.
"Do you recognize this object, Mr. Frankenstein?" Ragar's eyes shift to the large screen, on which is a slowly rotating picture-perfect model of a glimmering red crystal.
"A blood stone, clearly," Frankenstein announces. He does not even wait for Ragar's follow-up question. "These were used by both Lagus and Maduke, amongst other Union members, to drain life from countless people in order to fuel their own powers.
"Do you happen to know how many were sacrificed for this?"
"I do not."
Ragar nods, hair swaying gently. "According to lab estimates, this stone has taken between 160 and 200 lives."
"And that is just a single stone," Frankenstein chimes. "There have certainly been more in the past. This is only one of the few that have survived all these years." He sneers, all poison. "How horrific."
From his centuries of Union-hunting, Frankenstein has no shortage of testimony from his residence in Lukedonia, the plot of betrayal unfolding under his nose and disappearing his master, to his time in South Korea, his school, livelihood, and household actively hunted and perversely vandalized.
Lukedonian records of Raizel's disappearance are cross-referenced with records of a rise in Union activity. Insider information submitted to Frankenstein and the court by former Union elites as well as police records of the child cargo present an insurmountable account of various atrocities.
Cross-examination begins with the defense questioning Frankenstein's authority behind his own actions.
"I am my master's Bonded; we share souls. I am merely an extension of Sir Cadis Etrama di Raizel, and so what has applied to him applies to me as well. My will only exists in accordance to his."
The cross-examination is a futile, flaccid effort, even with the handicap of Frankenstein's murky past and man-eating soul weapon.
The trial stretches on into the following day. "This is the second day of the Earth System 00 v. The Union trial, but first, a word from our sponsors:"
"Enter the new age with KUM nano-cosmetics..."
The next prosecutor witness is none other than Claudia Tradio, stepping up to the podium to testify against her very own parent. Her accounts of operations taking place deep within the Union's belly, particularly of Lagus's involvement in both unethical experimentation and political conspiracy, are both moving and repulsive.
Lunark proceeds her with knowledge of Maduke's own nefarious deeds and tyranny over their people.
And finally, Raskreia makes an appearance to set the nail in the coffin.
The prosecution rests, and the defense case-in-chief begins.
With most of Lagus's and Maduke's allies dead, however, there are few who can give compelling defenses. A couple members of the aforementioned community on Mars speak lukewarmly of them. They remark that the two defendants had mostly kept to themselves in their community and had a strange fascination with rabbits and other small animals, rather reminiscent of budding serial killers. But ultimately, the witnesses are clueless.
The defense rests, and the court is adjourned so that the judges and the jury, consisting of the elected members of the S87 Committee of Stellar Justice, may discuss and prepare for questioning. Trial is to resume twenty-seven hours later.
Frankenstein sighs as he sinks down into his bed to stare at the ceiling. "This is...exhausting, Master," he mutters. His lips curve crookedly in mild irritation until he brightens at Raizel's gentle touch to his shoulders, a delicate, steadying hold.
Raizel, seated on the bed, gazes down at him knowingly and with subtle amusement. "Legal proceedings are not your style, Frankenstein?" he softly teases. "Your audaciousness remains unchanged even now."
They take a silent moment to comfortably smile at each other, an age old habit. Then, gracefully, Raizel bends down until the ends of his hair touch Frankenstein's face and his lips touch his forehead. It is not long before their mouths find each other, and they kiss and kiss, savoring and languid.
A knock at their door startles them from their intimacy.
Frankenstein sits up and commands the ship's computer to slide it open. A child stands framed by the doorway, her scraggly purple hair bedraggled, the backs of her hands tinged with a dusting of fur.
Frankenstein smiles carefully. "Hello, is there something you need?"
She nods, grinning, canines sharp. Silently, she opens her mouth and makes a motion as if putting a handful of something inside.
"Are you hungry?"
Again, she nods.
Raizel's expression falls in quiet concern. "She cannot speak?"
Somberly, Frankenstein nods back at him. "A few of the children are developmentally odd. A werewolf or noble child shouldn't take very much longer than a human in picking up speech. I don't know how they've been raised all these years..." He huffs and stands from the bed. To the girl, Frankenstein says, "I'll have dinner prepared for you and everyone else shortly. Go join your siblings for now." He punctuates this with a kind but authoritative smile.
The girl nods vigorously, almost with the force of her entire small body, and then scampers away.
When Frankenstein turns to face his master, Raizel is looking at him with an expression of tender curiosity, a slight coy curve to his lips and the lights gleaming mysteriously in his eyes. "Perhaps you have your own clan now, Frankenstein."
Frankenstein blinks. "A clan? The children?" He smiles, lopsided, not quite sure of what to say. "Perhaps so, Master."
"Mr. Cadis Etrama di Raizel," the old judge begins laboriously, voice like cigarette ash. "Can you explain to us how you are able to determine a person's guilt on the spot?"
"It is the duty of the Noblesse to read souls, which are unbound by space and time. They are likened to a person's worldline..."
...
"Will the defense clarify how Mr. Frankenstein can be responsible for Mr. Tradio's and Mr. Maduke's actions if there is evidence of plotting prior to them even becoming aware of his existence?"
"News of a 'monster-human' or a 'devil' had long been circulating before Mr. Frankenstein ever set foot in Lukedonia to make himself known..."
...
"Mr. Frankenstein, have you ever let Dark Spear consume someone outside of battle?"
"No."
...
Questioning from both the judges and jury drag on. The next day, the prosecution and the defense present their closing arguments
Ragar steps up, eyes and talons sharp, even if he has long since gone without his soul weapon, ready to finish this once and for all. He summarizes what has unfolded these past few days before the judges, the jury, the audience at home, and the eyes of justice. Pride makes him hold his head high.
"...it is only the least we can do to give what remains of the Union the highest possible sentence, as if it may begin to atone for the lives, both recorded and unrecorded, that have been destroyed or threatened en masse by the heinous actions of Mr. Tradio and Mr. Maduke over the past 1,537 years. Their lifespans and patience to enact schemes of crimes against humanity eliminate the effectiveness of incarceration for any amount of time, and so, I ask the judges and the jury to consider: a death sentence."
It is to the defense's advantage that they get the last word with their closing statement. Their last hurrah: ask for a millenium long sentence without parole instead.
The court adjourns for discussion and for the judges to draft their final verdicts.
They are both seated on the plush gray rug in his room.
The girl's face drops in devastation, the controller going limp in her hands as she stares at her place in the race: eighth. Her silence is made up for by the sheer magnitude of her trembling frustration.
"Hey, hey, it's alright!" M-21 gives her a sympathetic smile. "It's just a game. How about another go?"
She quickly beams at him and nods, focusing intensely on the screen, hands gripping the controller with renewed determination.
At the end of the second race, she stares again at the rankings. Seventh place. She blinks then smiles widely up at M-21, face rosy with pride.
"You did better," M-21 congratulates. "Nice going." He returns her smile both intentionally and nonchalantly.
There is a knock against his wall by the door, drawing their attention to Takeo stepping inside.
"The trial's on again."
M-21's lips lift as he blows out a chuckle. "Alright." He turns to the girl, and encouragingly, he says, "Let's go see those meanies get what they deserve, hm?"
The girl nods and places the controller carefully atop the bed as she stands.
They parade down the hallway to the common area to watch the finale. The others have already taken their seats by the time they arrive.
The center judge clears her throat before the room. All eyes turn to her, watching with taut, intense silence. "After reviewing the evidence and testimonials, and with careful consideration of the prosecution's and the defense's arguments, we, the judges of S87-Capitola's Committee of Stellar Justice put forth the sentence of annihilation by the star Lambda-4. Mr. Tradio and Mr. Maduke will be rocketed into the sun. The jury may now vote."
After murmurs and moments of shuffling about, the jury entering their 'yea' or 'nay' votes into the small computers at their tables, the judge speaks again, calling the court to order.
"Those in favor say 'yea.'"
A chorus of "Yea"s follow.
"Those against say 'nay.'"
There is a single peep of a "Nay" from someone in the back.
"The 'Yea's have it."
It is a landslide victory.
"And now, a word from our sponsors."
"Be timeless...Protect your skin from space radiation and sun damage with KUM sunscreen..."
The date of the launch is set to the following week, and Frankenstein, Raizel, and Ragar make it their personal business to go see the rocket take off live on location.
From a distance atop a hill, they watch on.
Smoke billows and billows from under the rocket. The ground trembles.
"...Taking off now!" a disembodied voice announces over the speakers and across satellite broadcasts.
The rocket is gone in a flash of neons. Within a blink, it leaves only the vestiges of a trail of light going straight up to pierce the sky.
Somewhere in space, far, far away, Lagus and Maduke are shot into the sun.
And somewhere else in space, Frankenstein, Raizel, and Ragar ride off with their household plus fifty kids into the stars.
The end.