Page 70 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
The lobby buzzed. Lawyers clustered around data terminals. Court reporters moved between groups. Security personnel watched from positions near high-tech security scanners.
Hughes stood near the information kiosk, his face drawn with exhaustion. The tremor in his left hand had worsened since their last call. Beside him stood Mason, a tall woman with sharpcheekbones and a jagged scar running from her left temple to the corner of her mouth.
"Captain," Hughes said as she approached. Relief flooded his features. "Wasn't sure you'd make it."
"Wouldn't miss it." She kept her voice level despite the concern his appearance triggered. "How are you holding up?"
"Same shit, different day." His attempt at humor fell flat. "Some mornings I can't feel my left arm. But I'm still breathing."
Mason's expression was grimmer. "Williams never showed."
The words punched through Reese's gut like a blade. Williams had been scheduled to testify about the systematic elimination of lawsuit participants.
"When did you last hear from him?" Reese asked.
"Three days ago. Said he was en route, had new evidence about the corporate cleanup operations." Mason's hands clenched into fists. "His transport never arrived."
Shit. Another veteran silenced. Another voice eliminated. The cold rage that had fueled her through months of legal battles built in her chest like pressure behind a dam.
"How many witnesses do we have left?"
"Three. Us." Hughes managed a bitter smile. "We're it I'm afraid. And we wouldn't be here if they hadn't accepted that you are actually alive rather than dead like Nexus claimed you were."
"The lawyers? Did that change their minds?"
"Now. They dropped us yesterday." Mason shook her head. "Cited security concerns and diminishing witness pool. Recommended we accept the revised settlement."
"Which is?"
"Enough to cover basic medical expenses for three months. No admission of wrongdoing. No recall of defective units. No justice for the veterans who died fighting this." Mason's hand touched the scar on her cheek. "Barely enough to keep us alive while they finish the cleanup."
Fuck. These people had followed her into this mess, trusted her to know what she was doing. Now they were down to three witnesses and a public defender against an army of corporate lawyers. But she'd been in worse spots before.
"We proceed as planned." Reese squared her shoulders. "Present the evidence. Make the case. Force them to respond to charges they can't dismiss."
"The batch numbers they erased—" Hughes began.
"Are gone. But not the medical records showing identical symptoms across multiple veterans." She adjusted her document case, pulling out a dataflex. "We prove the pattern exists. Force them to explain how so many veterans developed identical damage from supposedly different sources."
She handed Mason the technical analysis Tal and Jex had prepared… detailed scans showing neural pathway degradation, cellular damage patterns, progression timelines.
Mason's eyes widened as she scrolled through the data. She'd always been the more technologically inclined in her unit, the one everyone went to when their suits were playing up.
"Wow, captain. This is... comprehensive," Mason said, studying the alien medical analysis. "The technical foundation should be compelling."
"Assuming the judge isn't already bought," Hughes said quietly.
The possibility hung between them. Corporate influence ran deep, and judges weren't immune to pressure. But they'd come too far to surrender without firing a shot.
"Then we make our case compelling enough that dismissing it becomes impossible." Reese adjusted her document case. "Force them to rule on evidence rather than political convenience."
A bailiff emerged from the courtroom. "Case number 4471-Alpha. All parties to Courtroom Three."
Show time.
The courtroom was smaller than she'd thought it would be. Rows of benches faced the judge's platform, divided by a central aisle full of legal personnel. The plaintiff's table sat to the left, sparsely populated. The defense table looked like an army had taken residence.
Shit. Nexus had brought in the big guns. Eight lawyers in expensive suits. Behind them sat corporate executives and technical specialists—a support team designed to counter every argument.
