trans_9 | Jury Deliberations

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Jury Deliberations

After listening to the prosecution’s case and the defense’s case, the eight person jury was ushered into a secure and empty room to determine the fate of the Yeerk known as Schmuz-44356. The charges presented to the court were as follows:

11 counts of Kidnapping
2 counts of Attempted Kidnapping
13 counts of Conspiracy to Kidnap
11 counts of Enslavement
2 counts of Attempted Enslavement
13 counts of Conspiracy to Enslave
7 counts of Attempted Murder
28 counts of Assault with Intent to Kill
35 counts of Conspiracy to Commit Murder

Let the deliberations begin...

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"Partly guilty," Meluly offers, biting her lip. She doesn't like this, any of it. What if it had been anyone else—any of the crew—in that kind of position? Some would have gone along with it, some would have been brave enough to not, but it wouldn't have come solely down to a thing of species.

Species. She feels a little kinship with the Yeerk, somehow, and it disturbs her; she slides back in the chair she's claimed, half-hunching down on herself.

Fitz, unfortunately, had had his mind made up the minute he'd seen the yeerk and heard what it could do; it put him in mind of little black slugs, worming up the spine and into his mother's brain, driving her insane and nearly ending the world.

They had meant well in the beginning, too.

"Guilty." And there's a hard edge to his usually dorky, good-natured face.

Luke had been thinking on this all night, up until he'd fallen asleep. Thoughts of this trial and the Force-dream he'd had last night chased themselves around his mind, until with a few deep, calming breaths, Luke had to find his center again.

It was a difficult decision to make, and with a lot riding on the decision the jury was to reach. Still, having reviewed the statements and testimony from the witnesses, Luke had been able to make up his mind. He had to serve not only his own ideals, but those of this place too.

"Guilty," he said, softly but firmly.

"Guilty." Jamie gives his verdict with only a single, short glance at the other jurors.

Sure, this part's easy enough; the actual sentencing, he suspects, is going to prove somewhat more difficult.

Cameron didn't like this at all. Trials weren't his thing, and even after all of the arguments, the decision was no easy one to make. Yeerks were far too close to Goa'uld for comfort, and he had a feeling, privately, that if it were a Goa'uld on trial, his decision would already have been made.

But this wasn't a Goa'uld. This wasn't a host, either. This wasn't a Jaffa, and it certainly wasn't a Tok'ra. There was no easy road to an answer. Trials like this were why he didn't particularly like trials at all.

Cameron frowned, crossing his arms and leaning back against a wall as the others deliberated. It was hard not to draw parallels. The Yeerk--and he wasn't about to try to say its name--wasn't innocent of what it did, like Vala was, but they hadn't sentenced Teal'c or Tomin, either. Of course, from what he understood, the Yeerk had never turned coat until after the others' plan failed. So he wasn't a stand-up guy, and he certainly wasn't the kind of rat Cam wanted on a team.

Did that make it guilty? Could they risk letting it go free if it was? Did they really want to become the kind of people who didn't care if it wasn't? It was irritatingly generic.

This was why he preferred to leave the heavy thinking and the philosophy to those who were good at it.

"Not Guilty." Cameron scowled. At least dissent might give the opportunity for...

He wasn't even certain what he hoped it cause. Now he would have rather not have been involved at all.

The evidence had been carefully weighed and examined and she sat still, listening to her Mothers Within, her eyes drifting from the faces of her fellow jurors, and then past them, seemingly at nothing but air. This creature was a representative of a species that visited chaos on whatever life it found compatible with its form. It was not so much about a struggle for survival than it was for universal control and dominance.

It was like the Machines, reaching out to obliterate and enslave, to kill if their way was not followed. It mattered not how much of an underling this particular creature was. As one could not leave a Thinking Machine alive in her world, one could not leave this Yeerk-creature to a word besides guilty. Death was a strong motivation to follow orders and so order would be followed. The deeds that were done would still have been done, scared or not.

"Guilty," Arha murmured after a long moment of deep reflection, her manner calm and collected. There was nothing but logic behind her. It was not an emotional thing, nor would it have ever been.

Sir Sparhawk has been even more quiet that he is usually. He feels the weight of responsibility here, and he is determined to do things in the right manner, even if these customs are strange to him.

His shoulder aches, a phantom memory, a reminder of the Yeerk attack, but he is determined not to let pain rule his mind. But how to decide? Slaughter the one for the sins of the many? Blame one for following orders?

But Sparhawk did, and he had done in the past. Krager might have been a weasel and a drunkard, but he was still held accountable for the sins of Martel. For doing as Martel told him, out of fear, and for profit.

"Guilty," Sparhawk adds his opinion quietly. "Though not entirely."

It didn't take Chris long to decide. He knew that faulting someone simply for following orders didn't sit well with him at all.

"Guilty." He murmured quietly. "But not fully."

That's 9 votes of guilty, 1 of not guilty, but it's enough to convinct.

Now they have to decide the sentence.

Their two choices are imprisonment and, of course, death.

It didn't surprise him when the others voted 'guilty'. Maybe it was the right way to go. It'd done what they accused it of doing. But...worthy of life imprisonment or death? It didn't sit well. It didn't sit at all, to abuse the metaphor as Teal'c might.

This was why Stargate Command didn't do trials. They did whatever needed to be done. They followed conscience and...and dammit, he was starting to sound like Jackson. This whole thing was Jackson's role, not his.

Again, there was no right answer.

"We're not killing it."

Jamie flicks a glance at the older man, then at the rest of the jury, and uneasily chews his lip. "I, um. Think we should," he says in an undertone. "Kill it, I mean."

This, he had not had to think too long on. Whatever the crimes were (and the charges seemed very inflated to him, but then again Luke had seen war crimes trials and they were often used to make examples to any other potential warmongerers in the area), it was not up to them to decide who lived and died, not like this.

"I vote for imprisonment. I don't want to kill it." Again, he had spoke in his soft, calm, Grand Master's voice.

Fitz hesitated. As much as he harbored a damn heavy prejudice against the thing, he had learned one thing from the Doctor; senseless violence and killing was wrong. No matter what.

"I'll say imprisonment." Sure, it'd be cruel, but it wasn't death. And he wouldn't worry about the little bastard.

"Imprisonment," Arha said simply. "I would say exile, but that is not an option. In any case, imprisonment is the fair course to take." It was with a old voice that she spoke, one that had much behind it.

Killing served no purpose, but imprisonment was always more just.

You don't kill a prisoner of war. That's what it starts to come down to, in her head. The man (and she suddenly realizes she thinks of him that way: a man, a person, not an it, not impersonal), the whatever-he-is, he was a soldier.

An unwilling soldier—an image flashes into her head. The eastern front was forever full of terrible things. Child pilots, brainwashed and unsure, convinced by the Migou that the NEG forces were terrible monsters—

She swallows sharply, focusing herself again. It's—she can't decide. She can't fucking decide, she realizes, and her arms tense against herself. What if—but—well...

It clicks. She's not going to kill a person—a person, she repeats in her head—because she's indecisive. If it wasn't bad enough to make her decide on the other, then there's only one option left.

"Imprisonment," she says, and swallows sharply again. Her throat feels dry and cold.

Sparhawk already knew what he was going to say once he decided that the Yeerk would be guilty.

"Imprisonment," he adds his voice to the others.

They had no right to take the life of one who was just following orders, and who was too scared to do anything.

Once Chris knew that the Yeerk would be guilty, there was only one decision left for Chris. The sentencing which was pretty easy in his opinion.

"Imprisonment, easily." His voice betrayed what he was feeling. Nervousness. They had no right to take the life of someone just for following orders.

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Jury Deliberations

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