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faces of those present for his 'execution'. Jeff's eyes flashed with dislike when they set upon Agent Sicamore, but no other expression crossed his face when he was taken behind another desk and forced to stand in wait.

The last three bailiffs had to drag Zormna in. Peevish, uncooperative, she was glaring at everyone and everything. Jerking out of their hold, she attempted to walk in on her own. She balled her cuffed hands in fists and glowered at the full room. But once she took the scene in, her mouth opened. Her expression turned to that of indignation. "You're not putting us on trial? We didn't do anything!"

The bailiffs shoved her further into the room. Zormna continue to push back at them until she spotted Jeff. At the sight of him, she instantly plunged forward, dashing to his side - or at least trying to. The bailiffs grabbed her when she reached the front of the room and jerked her back to their designated station behind another barrier.

"Order!" The judge pounded the gavel.

"Order yourself!" Zormna snapped back, not quite shoving off her guards. "You can't hold me here! We didn't do anything! This is harassment!"

The judge pointed his gavel at her. "You will be silent, or I will rule you in contempt of this court."

"Go ahead!" Zormna growled at him. "I have great contempt for this court and for your stupid gavel too. This is an unconstitutional kidnapping! I demand to see my lawyer! I didn't even get my phone call!"

"And no one read us our rights," Jeff murmured placidly. A crooked smirk crossed his lips.

She started to repeat what she had heard. "And no one read us our ri - " But she looked back at Jeff, who remained calm. She settled down with a scowl. If he wasn't getting excited, there was no point for her to.

"Are you finished, young lady?" the judge asked, peering down at her as if she were behaving like an unruly child.

Lifting her dark green eyes onto him, Zormna said, "You know what you are doing is illegal."

This had quite an effect on the group sitting in the jury box. They murmured indignantly that she was in the country illegally and a lot of other things. But it was Agent Sicamore that voiced their opinions. "I suggest you hold your tongue. They know who you are and what you are doing here."

Stiffening indignantly, Zormna huffed, turning her head so she would not have to look at him.

"And as a matter of national security, certain measures are allowable," Agent Sicamore finished.

"Such as kidnapping?" Zormna shot back between those holding her with the deadliest of looks from the corner of her eye.

Agent Sicamore flushed.

The murmur in the jury box rumbled louder.

"You are an illegal immigrant - a spy of a foreign nation. We have every right to you arraign and deport you," Agent Sicamore said conclusively.

"Then deport me," Zormna bitterly laughed. "I'd like to see you try it."

The FBI agent tiredly ignored the remark though the two PMs overhearing the smothered chuckles. She got more dirty looks though. The watching generals saw her as a belligerent, little...eye-drawing...girl.

And so the 'trial' began. But of course it wasn't actually a trial at all. Not even a hearing. One did not put 'aliens' on trial. Such things were inspected. They were scrutinized. They were evidence. So Jeff, Zormna, and the captive People's Military officers listened as Agent Sicamore described each one of them to the panel of men in the jury box like he would trotting out a 'smoking' gun or a blood stained piece of clothing. He started with the two strangers, the least known, declaring, "As I said before, these men are the ones who murdered our two agents. Their fingerprints were found all over the insides of the car, and are wearing our men's clothes and using their money."

Everyone in the room listened intently as the agent then concluded, "These two teenagers - whom our operatives have been keeping close track of this entire time - were not involved in the deaths of the agents, nor do we have proof that they arranged our agents' murder with these two men. However, we do have proof that these men have come to this city specifically in search of this boy," Sicamore said, pointing to Jeff.

Murmurs erupted from the jury box full, rising and falling in a low rumble as if a low earthquake passed through the room. Then Agent Sicamore changed his pace. He walked directly to where Jeff was being held. Yet surrounded by imposing agents of the FBI, Jeff gazed at him placidly, though wearily while he waited for his turn for exposure.

"This boy," Sicamore sighed, "is an enigma."

Jeff then laughed. He couldn't help himself.

The bailiff nearest jabbed him in the side to make him stop. This got him stares from many - including the People's Military officers. Zormna remained peevish. 

Sicamore continued as Jeff masterfully regained his composure. "All our efforts to discover who he is really have been clouded by his interference. Falsified records state that his origins are in Missouri, and his parents are in Chicago." He paused and marched a few steps away from Jeff's table. "We know this to be false - determined by lab reports examining his and his so-called parents' DNA. Though they are racially the same, they are not of the same blood. We also thoroughly searched the records, spoke with people who would have known him, and found proof that his records are all excellent forgeries."

Jeff sighed this time as he waited for Sicamore to finish, glancing mildly at the ceiling in boredom while onlookers watched him intently, looking for the answer to mystery that was this boy.

"What we do know is that he is part of a large, well-organized covert group of people," Sicamore explained, "which, we presume, even has spies within the government and over the globe."

A deep rumble murmured through the room as the occupants stared at Jeff with an increase of fear, especially looking at his ill-masked amused expression as he frequently cast glances at Zormna. She was not so amused, they saw. But whenever she caught his eye, her expression lightened a little. The effect had been noted.

"Furthermore, this boy has taken a great interest in our fourth Martian," Sicamore said, walking between the two in a slow stroll as though to approach Zormna, but hanging back as if her glares were death threats. "His interest in her is mainly political."

Zormna snorted. And that was noted down.

"And," Agent Sicamore said while casting her a hardened look, "I believe, is the only reason they are friends at all."

Jeff's serene expression finally broke as if he'd been genuinely hurt.

But Zormna didn't seem as hurt. She kept rolling her eyes and sighing with clear indication that she thought Agent Sicamore was an idiot.

"When the two were first recorded meeting, before we knew he was also a Martian, they had a particularly hostile relationship," Agent Sicamore continued.

Jeff made a face and shook his head, looking very much like Zormna at that moment. The two PMs snorted in private amusement. In fact, the oration was having an unusual effect on them. They were listening like this was the most adorable story they had ever heard, yet inconsequential. They hissed to the captive teens through the crowd a handful of things in that amused tone. No one but the two could understand it though, as it was in their native speech.

Zormna bristled.

"Shut up," Jeff cast back at the People's Military officers, glaring.

The entire courtroom erupted into small murmurs by this outburst from the boy, but Jeff offered no other remark. Agent Sicamore continued as if Jeff had not interrupted at all, understanding clearly to whom Jeff was speaking.

"The girl, Zormna," Sicamore said, stepping toward Zormna's position now, "is the true focal point of this hearing."

Zormna made a face. "What for?" Their guards prepared for more.

Jeff shook his head with a warning look in his eyes. Which got noted down.

Agent Sicamore turned to face her. Zormna stared back from her at his now intense expression, which had the effect of shutting her mouth and forcing her to listen without uttering a word in retort.

"Her name is Alea Zormna Clendar..." Sicamore waited and glanced with interest at the two PMs, saying the last word with clarity, "Tarrn."

Zormna tightly shut her eyes at the sound of this last word. Her neck stiffened a fraction. But Jeff's mouth opened with complete shock. Then his shock immediately transformed into white-faced, speechless fury that Sicamore uttered it out loud - purposefully.

Sure enough, as Agent Sicamore expected, in an explosion of alien epithets two newcomers rounded toward Zormna. "A Tarrn?" The more aggressive of the two PMs shoved those aside with his elbows and wide hands with spit flying from his mouth. "Alea Zormna Clendar is a Tarrn? I'll kill her! Let me go!" The other PM kicked over the table in front of him to force his way over to where Zormna was being detained as if he would rip off his cuff and maul her.  The bailiffs who had surrounded Jeff immediately jumped in. Seizing that People's Military officer, they dragged him back as Zormna retreated only a few steps in wary self-guard - her eyes tracking her enemy in case she had to dispatch them herself. Yet Jeff quickly put himself in the men's path, firmly guarding her.

It was a perfect spectacle. The ideal display Agent Sicamore was looking for to demonstrate his point.  It was more than enough to convince those sitting in the jury box that the situation with these alien invaders was not cut and dry, but complicated. The violence of emotions connected with Zormna and her position, impressed upon them with such force and in such a way that they could see how the Boy felt and was motivated to protect her.

After the threat of deadly force (cocking guns and jabbing them in their captive's sides), taking several minutes to bring the two PMs back into order, Agent Sicamore continued his speech. Sweating, yet justified, the FBI agent stood boldly before the generals and judge with gratified explanation. "As you can see, this title brings mixed reactions." He then drew a breath for strength and continued, knowing he was taking a risk exposing Zormna to her enemies as Jeff still could expose his secret and it could all be over. "A Tarrn, for those who have not been to our briefings, is a person of an ancient royal family."

The two PMs struggled more forcefully at these words.

"And further, it has political implications because the Tarrns, at present, are not in power. And haven't been for quite a while," Sicamore explained. Marching across the room and pointing at the two struggling men, he said, "These men are part of the military regime that is presently in power." Then pointing to Jeff, he added, "This boy is part of the rebellion that is fighting against this military regime." Then he pointed to Zormna. "But this girl, we have come to realize, is the key to who wins the war."

A general murmur passed through the room, heavy with cynicism, questions, suspicion, and a general distaste for anything not 'verified human'.  Zormna was no longer closed-eyed, though. Her dark green eyes had opened, fixing on Agent Sicamore. Her face had become stony. The stare almost unnerved the agent as her gaze followed him when he moved back across the room toward the jury box and judge, almost a little hasty as if afraid of being stung.

"Further," he said, in a business-like manner to the ones he had to convince, "this girl is well-placed for such an action, as she is also a soldier - however not part of this particular military group," indicating the PMs with a dismissive wave of the hand. He stepped up to the jury box and waved his hand at Zormna. "This girl is a leader in the military group known as the Surface Patrol. A trained

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