The tribunal progressed slowly, day after day. The blow-by-blow would not make for particularly interesting reading, so I will simply boil it down as best I can.

Strangely, there was one part of the daily affair of attending the tribunal that I found solace in: getting dressed for it in the morning. I was provided the full BSAA women's dress uniform: crisp, cinched black jacket with the BSAA emblem on the left chest and upper left arm; matching knee-length skirt; light blue blouse; black tie and navy blue beret. Getting ready became something of a ritual for me to get lost in, a slow and careful process whose result was the most perfect version of myself that I could generate. Wearing that crisp, well-fitted uniform just made me feel more human, I guess.

As the tribunal proceeded, the prosecution laid out the events as they were understood in regard to Albert Wesker and his Uroboros plan. There were many holes in their story, as so much evidence had been destroyed at Tricell. The schematics and design of the Jewel were well-documented, its purpose indisputable; the blood-encrusted remains had actually been retrieved from the floor of the temple. Most worrisome, though, was that no samples of the P30 compound were discovered in the Tricell facility or in the course of the investigation. Furthermore, whatever the Jewel had been injecting into me had broken down completely, leaving no residue but harmless chemical leftovers.

Once the prosecution had completed its case, my defense could begin. Lt. Strait laid out my entire history and career, the stellar fitness reports, all the things I had done in the name of eliminating bio-terror from the world. She attacked the prosecution by pointing out that I had no motive to help Wesker of my free will, and that once the Jewel had been removed, I did everything in my power to help Chris and Sheva defeat Wesker. Sheva was even brought in to testify on my behalf, which she did with passion and eloquence; the prosecution's cross-examination did not rattle her in the slightest, and she gave them nothing in regard to furthering evidence of my guilt.

I attended and participated in these proceedings with all due diligence, but inside my heart was heavy, for there was still no sign of Chris. Soon he would be called to testify. If he wasn't present for it, he would be found in contempt of the proceeding and find himself in rather deep trouble.

The day after Sheva's testimony was visiting day; it was the first time during my incarceration that I had an actual visitor. They don't say when they call you to the visiting lounge who your visitor is, but in my heart I knew it was Sheva - and not Chris.

Still, I was overjoyed to see her, to see anybody. As tolerable as detainment was, given what I'd been through and my training, I guess I hadn't realized how lonely it could be. There was no question when I approached her table that I would do anything but give her the biggest hug of her life, which she answered with the biggest smile I'd seen her give. We sat.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, her look so tender. I marveled at and envied her ability to be so competent in the field and so warm and giving off the field. It was something I'd always struggled with. Some part of me thought you had to choose one or the other, and I'd always chosen duty.

"I'm fine," I replied. "I've had far worse than this. I was once alone in a South American jungle for a week with nothing but a knife and a book of matches. That was hard time."

She laughed. "I'm told there don't appear to be any lingering after-effects from your ordeal."

"Healthy as I've ever been," I answered. "In fact, you know what's strange? I was born in 1974, so on paper I'm 35 years old. But I was in cryogenic sleep for two of those years, with my metabolism brought to a stop, and for the last year, apparently the P30 chemical was able to stop senescence."

Sheva wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. I smiled.

"Yeah, I didn't know what it means either. It means 'aging at the cellular level.'"

She got my point. "So, you were born 35 years ago, but physically you're 32?"

"Bingo."

"Wow, that'll mess with your mind."

"Yeah. In a sense, it's like I have those three years back that Wesker took from me - since I'll die three years later." I said with a crooked smile.

"Well, that's an odd way to look at it," Sheva replied.

"Listen," I said, shifting away from the strange small talk we were engaged in, "I want to thank you."

"For what?" she asked.

"Well, besides taking such good care of Chris, saving me from hell and helping stop Wesker, I owe you thanks for what you said about me in your testimony."

"You don't have to thank me for that. Every word of it was the truth."

"I know, but I'm thanking you anyway," I said. "So... I have to ask you..."

Her look turned to a sad worry I shared. "About Chris."

"Yes."

She shook her head. "I haven't heard from him. I don't know where he is."

I figured as much. I looked down quietly.

Sheva spoke up to reassure me. "But I'm sure wherever he went, whatever he's doing, he's doing it for you. I just know it. He wouldn't abandon you, not now."

"I know that," I said, not looking up. "That's what worries me."

She put her hand to her mouth, realizing what I meant. "Jill, you can't think like that! He can handle himself. He may take some risks but he's got a good head on his shoulders. If he hasn't come back and hasn't contacted anyone, it's got to be because of the mission. You know that, right?"

I nodded. I wanted to believe it. I forced myself to smile, knowing Sheva would be able to tell it wasn't full of conviction.

She looked at her watch. "Oh Jill, I'm sorry. I wish I could stay longer, but I have to catch a flight to Johannesberg."

"Duty never sleeps," I said, standing up to give her another hug. It was more than a formal friend hug. We held each other for several seconds because that was what felt right.

Finally, she pulled back. "This is all going to work out, Jill, trust me."

I nodded. "You have a safe flight, Sheva."

"I'll see you soon, Jill, I promise," she said, and with one last comforting smile, she turned to leave.

I decided right then that no matter what my fears, I owed it to Sheva to believe her that Chris was fine and it would all work out. She'd asked me to trust her, so I would do just that.

The Tribunal proceeded at its bureaucratic pace. The day of Chris' testimony approached, and there was still no sign of him. Finally, on the evening before he was on the docket to appear, Strait and I had a meeting at the detention center. She looked worried.

"Jill," she said, "I wish I could say I thought the proceedings were going well for us."

"But you don't think they are."

"I think that the judges want to believe you, but they need two things. They need your partner, and they need a smoking gun. Even if there's no time to analyze and study the P30 compound, direct evidence of its existence might be enough to give the judges some ground to stand on. They can't afford to be seen as being too lenient; it's unfair to say that the standard of proof is higher based on the accusations, but that's a political reality that we all have to face."

So if Chris didn't show up by tomorrow, I was probably screwed. And even if he did, I was still probably screwed.

"I understand, Lt. Strait."

"If the worst happens, there will be an appeals process, and the good news about that is that due to the nature of the case, it won't be drawn out over years."

I nodded.

"Okay, just get some sleep, Jill. I'll see you in the morning."

Easier said than done. Though I'd promised myself not to worry, to have a little faith, sleep that night proved hard to come by.