Disclaimer: Ace Attorney and all characters are copyright by CAPCOM; I'm just a fan imitating. The stories presented are influenced by the multiple games as well as the comic (Manga written by Kenji Kuroda).

Chapter 18

The Catapult

"How long have you known her?" Miles looked at her directly and he noticed her subtly leaning back, as if she could shrink away from his glare.

"Uh, well…" she glanced around again, "I don't recall ever talking to her before we got underway."

"So about nine months?"

"Yeah—uh… yeah," her gaze dropped to her lap where her fingers were twined together, "We weren't very close. But I tried to be nice to her…"

Miles frowned and made a note on the legal pad in front of him, "Were you expecting to see her that night?"

"Yeah, we talked about it," she said, "A lot of us were excited about it."

"Did you have a Liberty Buddy when you signed off the ship?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "Lieutenant Currier…. We were on the first boat."

"Okay," Miles made another note, "So what time did you leave?"

"Well, curfew was 2300, so we left at 22, to make sure we had enough time to get back. I'm pretty sure the last boat was scheduled to launch at 2245."

"And you took a cab from the hotel to the pier?"

"Yes," she said.

"Was it just Lieutenant Currier and yourself?"

"So no," she sank into the chair a little more, "Rich Wellington and Pete were with us too…"

"But not Lieutenant Preston?"

"No."

"So you would say that she was unaccounted for at about 2200?" Miles gave her a scrutinizing look and she hunched lower in her seat.

"I don't recall seeing her after 2200," she said.

"When was the last time you do remember seeing her?"

She covered her face in her hands shaking her head, "I don't know, we were drinking and there was music… I wasn't really paying attention to who was doing what…. I mean I'm pretty sure I saw her dancing with WEPS—Lieutenant Wellington, I have no idea what time that was. It could've been eight or nine…"

Miles leaned forward with a palm raised, "That's good, we'll say between eight and ten that night. A two-hour block is easier to work with than an eight hour block."

Miles raised an eyebrow, she met his eye and seemed to calm a little bit, "I was dancing with Pete… The song was something by Selena Gomez…"

Miles chuckled and made note of it, "Very good, Lieutenant Parker, if there's any thing else send me an e-mail, okay?"

Lieutenant Parker smiled at him as the MA Petty Officer escorted her out. Miles glanced at MAC and gave him an exasperated look. Chief shook his head, but his shoulders trembled in silent laughter.

Lieutenant Parker was small, dark-haired, and soft spoken. Lieutenant Currier on the other hand was tall, red-haired, and gregarious. She entered the small space they were using as an ad hoc interrogation room, escorted by the same MA Petty Officer that had led Parker out, and eyed each person in the room directly and with no small hint of defiance.

Miles stood and offered his hand to shake, "Thanks for taking the time to do this Lieutenant Currier. I'm Miles Edgeworth—strike group staff Judge Advocate."

She took his hand boldly, "Bethany Currier," she said and sat.

Miles settled himself on the other side of the table next to MAC, "So you're here because you've been subpoenaed to testify in a general court martial…"

"I'm tracking, El-Tee," she leaned back and crossed her arms.

He paused, startled at her tone, and then cleared his throat, "Yes, well, Lieutenant Currier—Bethany, I have a copy of the statement you provided to NCIS following their investigation. I'm just trying to clear up a few points—so that we're all on the same page when we're in the courtroom."

She nodded curtly, but the defiant look softened a bit, and he could feel her eyes roving his face, "Yes, sir."

"What time did you leave the ship following Liberty Call?"

She shrugged, "I don't remember… We got off the ship as early as we could—we were on the first boat."

"The first boat launched at 1017 that morning," Miles said.

She shrugged again, "Okay, I had no idea what time it—"

"I'm telling you this," Miles spoke stiffly, locking her attention, "So instead of 'I don't know' you can say it was around 1000."

Her glare darkened for a moment and then something clicked and she relaxed a little, "Okay, I see… Sorry."

Miles shook his head dismissively, "Did you have a liberty buddy when you signed off the ship?"

"Yes, I signed off with Lieutenant Junior Grade Parker, from ship's admin."

"Did you see Lieutenant Preston prior to the engagement at the hotel that night?"

She paused, "You mean, like ever? Because she worked in ship's admin—so I'd seen her around…. But I never really met her until that night at dinner."

Miles nodded, "Okay, so you only saw her at the hotel?"

"Yes."

"Did you notice anyone she interacted with—any interaction at all?"

"She danced with Rich Wellington," she said, "and after they were done, she and I argued about it."

"Do you remember what time that was?"

"Nine, nine-thirty…. We left not too long after that…"

"You left at 2200?"

"Give or take," she said.

"And you left in the same taxi with Wellington, Mitchell and Parker?"

"Yeah."

"So what exactly were you and Lieutenant Preston arguing about?"

Lieutenant Currier made an exasperated noise and slumped in her chair. Miles continued to scrutinize her sternly, "Bear in mind, Miss Currier, if you tell the court that you had an argument with Lieutenant Preston the night she was murdered, the court will certainly want to know why."

"So I'll leave that bit out," she said, Miles raised an eyebrow at her.

"What were you arguing about?"

She shook her head emphatically, "Fine…. I already explained this to Mike—the NCIS agent…. I know it's stupid, but we were all drinking that night…. But I was mad that she danced with Rich."

"Are you in a relationship with Lieutenant Wellington?"

"Well… not exactly," she frowned and leaned forward so that her arms rested on the table, "but that night…. I thought we were an item…. That night, I would've said we were dating."

"Elaborate," Miles crossed his arms and glared at her.

She shrugged and shook her head, "Well…. I mean this is a personal matter—I don't know how this will help you find out who killed her…"

"Elaborate," Miles repeated, "I'll determine whether this is relevant or not."

She rolled her eyes, "I met Rich while we were in port in Borginia. We got recalled and were confined to the pier for most of that port visit. So there was a little more mingling than usual…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've never really met any of those Operations guys…. We're managing stores and money and ordering stuff…. We're logistics and they're the guys that fight the ship—tactical guys…. I mean all of them, weapons, tracking, navigation…. But being stuck on the pier for a couple of days…" She shrugged, "We hit it off…"

"Well anyway," she continued, "His liberty buddy was Pete—whom I've never met except a few times in passing in Borginia. Anna—Lieutenant Parker, I mean, we wanted to get out and explore as early as possible and we'd signed up for a bus tour with MWR."

"You'd signed up for a bus tour in Zeng Fa?"

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes a little, "Anna loves that crap… I was a little irked because I wanted to see Rich. We got into town as early as we could—I remember our tour started at 1100–so we didn't really do a whole lot before we had to meet the group—"

"MWR ran the tour?" Miles hadn't known that was a thing.

"Yeah, in this case it was MWR… You know with fat Marvin?"

"Mister Grossberg," Miles corrected her, "So you were tied up with the tour until you went to the hotel at five?"

"Oh no," she laughed, "at two o'clock the tour dropped us off at the market—that's where Rich and I met up."

"What about Mitchell and Parker?"

"I guess they tagged along…. I was kind of distracted…"

She blushed and Miles grimaced.

"Anyway, we all made it over there before five. As a group. Rich was going to introduce me to Lieutenant Lang—he's CIWS, and the Divo for OEM, but we didn't see him."

"You never saw Lieutenant Lang?"

"Not until we were in the restaurant," she said.

"That was at five o'clock?"

"Thereabouts…" she gave him an odd look, "You were there that night… You sat next to Preston—because I was on her other side… She kept asking about you…"

Miles frowned at the revelation, "Really…"

Lieutenant Currier laughed, "Oh my God, I forgot about that… She kept blabbing on and on about JAG… That's why we were trying to get her drunk. That's why Rich danced with her. We were trying to get her to stop obsessing over—"

"Hang on," Miles' brow furrowed more deeply and he shook his head, "Lieutenant Wellington was sitting across the table from Lieutenant Preston the whole night?"

"Yeah," Lieutenant Currier laughed again, this time punctuating her outburst with a snort, "You sat on her other side and Pete was sitting across from you."

Miles paced the stateroom while Lang sat on his rack, arms crossed and frowning.

"I don't see what the problem is…" he said.

"I represent the Government of the United States in this matter," Miles gave him an exasperated look, "But I also have to look out for the rights of the sailors…"

Lang gave him a 'so what' shrug, "Okay…?"

"If you look at the statements, one could easily conclude that I may just as likely have killed her as Lieutenant Mitchell…. I can't do this…. I can't be involved…"

"Miles," Lang grinned and gave him a pointed look, "Did you murder Lieutenant Preston while I was taking a leak or something?"

Miles glared at him, "Of course not."

Lang laughed, "Miles… Miles… Miles… I think you're freaking out…. You're nervous about the big case…"

Miles rounded on him, "I have to stand up there and prove beyond a reasonable doubt that this guy murdered a shipmate…"

"Yes…?"

"And I don't think he did…" Miles slid a hand through his hair and shook his head, "I shouldn't be telling you this…"

"Now you have to subpoena me and send me to Hawaii too," Lang grinned at him.

Miles paused and stared at him contemplating that, and then shook his head and resumed his pacing.

Lang shrugged, "It was worth a shot…"

"We left the hotel and were on our way back around 2000… She was seen by multiple witnesses that saw her alive between 2100 and 2130… So the window that we're working with is small… Very small…"

"Isn't Mike going to be there?" Lang noted and sat up.

Miles paused again, "Yeah…. There's evidence that I don't have yet…. Like the autopsy report…. This is a suspected murder so NCIS owns the investigation. But I don't know how much time I'm going to have when I get there…."

Lang grinned at him again, "Miles…"

Miles glared reproachfully at him, "This is a mess…"

"It's not like they're going to pick you up off the flight line when you land and take you to court—surely?"

"No," Miles tapped his chin, "It's a tough situation, because we're underway…. But there's still due process…"

"You're adorable when you're nervous," Lang shook his head and stood, "I'm touched that you came to find me… But I'm hungry, and it's after 1600, so Payne is going to be back any minute."

Miles glared again, "I'm not nervous."

"I'm pretty sure you're nervous," Lang patted him on the shoulder, "Come on let's head over to the Mess—"

"Shi-Long you won't repeat anything that I—"

"About what? How you're nervous?" Lang laughed and opened the stateroom door.

"I'm not nervous," Miles repeated.

"Is it your first time?" Lang quipped mockingly, "Oh no, I've been nervous lots of times..."

"I'm not nervous…"

After dinner, Miles returned to the deserted legal spaces to finish typing his notes from the interviews—this was more secure than carting around all the handwritten notes and copies of statements. Especially, since he wasn't expected to return to the ship, so he'd be leaving with everything he owned as well.

A transfer and a Court Martial at the same time…

Miles frowned and flipped the page on his legal pad and continued typing.

Semper Gumby…

He'd packed all of his things over the last couple days. So all he had to do that morning was shoulder his sea bag and walk out of the stateroom—it was like he'd never lived there. It was still pretty early when Miles made his way to ATO, and the hatch was secured, so he backtracked to legal and dropped his luggage there.

LN1 was already perched behind the computer, "Morning, El-Tee."

"You're in early," Miles said turning to look at her.

"I didn't want to miss you," she said, "Your case has been assigned a docket number…"

Miles stared at her and she must've noticed the desperate look on his face.

"Monday, 1000, at RLSO Pearl Harbor," she said.

Miles nodded and actually smiled.

That's a relief…

"Good, so I don't have to wear my blues on the plane," He quipped and LN1 laughed.

"You'll do us proud sir," LN1 said, "We'll be watching message traffic…"

LN3 burst into the space just then looking harried, "El-tee."

"Good morning Justice," Miles smiled at the young Petty Officer.

"Sir, I just wanted to make you I caught you before you fly out."

LN1 Miney came around the counter smacking her gum as she stood next to LN3, Miles smiled at each of them in turn, "It was a pleasure working with you. Have a safe trip home."

He found Lang and Cali sitting together at breakfast—anticipating him.

"Good morning," he said joining them at the table.

"I was starting to think you were trying to sneak out on us," Cali said.

Miles smiled as he busied himself draining a teabag that he'd had steeping in a mug, "I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye."

"Where'd you get tea outside of Starbucks?" Cali asked peering curiously at him.

Miles chuckled, "You know, the entire time I was here, I never thought to ask…. But I interviewed one of the supply officers yesterday, and she mentioned they keep some stocked in the enlisted galleys."

"Talk about a day late and a dollar short," Lang laughed.

Miles sipped his tea, "One decent cuppa, makes up for months of awful coffee…"

After breakfast, Miles hung back, waiting on Lang. He offered a hand to Lieutenant Yew, "Well, thanks again for being my sponsor…"

"I guess I'll see you in the fleet," she met his eye and shook his hand with a slight frown. Miles smiled congenially until she surprised him by leaning into him and unceremoniously throwing her arms around his neck, "You were my favorite JAG, Miles."

Lang was laughing when he rejoined them, carrying a to-go cup of coffee.

"I have to go," Cali said turning away from them, "Have a safe flight Miles."

"Wow," Lang said fumbling with the cover on his coffee, "She really does like you."

Miles was still staring after her, shocked that she'd felt the need to hug him.

"Well," Lang offered a handshake, "I guess this is—"

"Shi-Long, do you know how to find the MWR guy? Mister Grossberg?"

Lang frowned, "Really Miles, you need another favor? I'm never going to get rid of you am I?"

Miles smirked at him and then followed Lang aft along the main deck until they came to a wide ladder into the deck below. They passed a line of personnel waiting at the ship store and wound their way deeper into the spaces.

"What do you need MWR, for?" Lang asked as they entered quieter passages away from the store.

"I just need to ask him a few questions," Miles said.

Lang glanced at his watch and frowned, but continued to lead him where he needed.

"I appreciate this," Miles glanced at him, "I know you have other things to do—"

Lang groaned, "It's fine Miles, I love nothing more than to drop everything for you."

Miles stopped walking and Lang continued a ways by himself before he noticed, "Miles?"

"You've been an invaluable friend and mentor to me while—"

"Come on Miles," Lang waved emphatically at him to keep up, "Fat Marvin waits for no man."

When they entered the spaces allotted the civilian crew members—a few contractors, a university professor, and Fat Marvin—Miles looked around in awe.

Lang paused to drink his coffee and then knocked on one of the stateroom doors. They had to wait few minutes before the stateroom door opened and Fat Marvin poked his face out of the stateroom preceded by a blustery "Ah-HHHEMM!"

Miles immediately went to his door, "Mister Grossberg? Good morning, sir, I'm Miles Edgeworth—strike group staff Judge Advocate."

"Oh-ho," Mister Grossberg opened the door more widely so Miles got an eye-full of why the Sailors referred to him as Fat Marvin, "The JAG…. To what do I owe the pleasure, Lieutenant?"

Miles glanced at Lang who'd turned to stare at the bulkhead while he sipped his coffee, "Yes, sir… So, um, I'm sorry for the sudden intrusion, but I had a few questions about a tour MWR organized while we were in port Zeng Fa."

Lang followed him to Flag Admin afterward so that Miles could grab his sea bag and then they made their way to ATO.

"They're going to start the brief here at ten," Miles said checking his watch as he stepped into the relatively empty spaces and set his duffel on the deck. Lang joined him in ATO, sitting with him on the blue-cushioned metal seats.

"Miles," Lang looked at him seriously, "Be safe, ok. Cross your arms and put your head down when they fire the catapult."

Miles stared at him with his eyes wide, "What?"

"It only lasts a few seconds," Lang added dismissively and then held out a hand, "But for real this time—I don't want my men to worry…"

They clasped hands, "Shi-Long," Miles began then he startled as Lang pulled him roughly by the arm and hugged him.

"Damnit Miles," Lang said, "Good luck. I'll keep in touch."

He stood abruptly and walked toward the hatch, where he paused but didn't turn to look at him, "Goodbye, Lawyer-boy."

Miles smiled and shook his head, "Goodbye Shi-Long Lang."

Lang had barely stepped out of the hatch when the Air Crewman entered with a clipboard and bent to lock the hatch in the open position.

"Name, Sir?"

"Edgeworth," Miles said, the Air Crewman nodded and made a note on the clipboard as other passengers trickled into ATO. The flight was going to be packed.

The Air Crewman continued to record the arrival of the other passengers on his clipboard and then yanked the seat cushions off of one the seats in the back, revealing a storage cabinet. He pulled out a pile of olive drab life vests and started handing them out, Miles stared at the life vest in his hands for a moment contemplatively before slipping it over his head. Cranial were passed out next and the group was directed to pay attention to a screen mounted on the bulkhead on one side of the ATO space. The brief was going to be shown there.

Miles Edgeworth put on the cranial they'd given him, and joined his fellow passengers as the brief started. The video introduced the platform—Miles wondered why he hadn't actually seen it before his third COD flight, but then there were more pressing issues at hand.

Most of the other passengers were going to be participating in the trial, so he recognized most of them. As the narrator on the video explained how to use the life vests—what to pull to inflate it, how to turn on the rescue beacon.

After the brief, the Air Crewman finished checking off his pax list and making sure everyone had their life vests and cranials on properly. Then the group was directed to line up carrying their own luggage—most of them were only traveling temporarily for the trial. So Miles felt conspicuous about his stuffed sea bag as they lined up and began walking toward the exterior hatch onto the catwalk that brought them onto the deck.

They paused on the deck for several minutes, standing in the shade of missiles and other ordinance stacked on the edge of the deck. Then they were directed to start passing their luggage toward the waiting COD. The cranials dampened the noise of the deck and the quiet was surreal and almost dreamlike.

Miles could see the ocean churning gray and cold on the other side of the deck. Then the group filed onto the plane, filling the forward most seats first and Miles ended up about two rows from the open ramp. And they waited.

He could hear muffled questions and conversations from the passengers behind him, incoherent shouts among the Air Crew. Then the reason for the delay made itself known.

There were two MA Petty Officers in front of him and two behind him and they took up the entire front row. Lieutenant Mitchell was handcuffed and shackled and had to be buckled into his seat by the MAs before they took the seats flanking either side of him.

Chief Gumshoe followed in after the group and paused at the ramp before approaching Miles directly and handing him a folder. They couldn't talk with their cranials on, but after Chief clasped his hand and smiled as he nodded his goodbye, Miles opened the folder and frowned. He now had custody of the suspect.

Once the suspect was secure onboard, things moved quickly along. The ramp was closed, the Air Crew finished their final checks and settled in and he felt the plane move. It was turned into position—although there were no windows like on a passenger plane and there wasn't much he was able to see.

After the hope brought on by that bit of movement, they waited again. Miles shook his head and checked his watch. It was almost 1130 and their 1100 flight was still on deck. Still the plane showed no signs it was going to begin her taxi.

The COD was a propeller plane and the whir of the props, despite the dampening effect of the cranial, never changed in timber. He sighed, what was taking so long?

Then the catapult fired. Miles screamed.

A/N: Lol... I'd pay money to catapult off a carrier... But I don't think Miles would be a fan.

Thanks for reading (whoever is reading...) Sorry for the long wait for an update... I did get a bit sidetracked with life and other distractions...lol

So.. wow... the AA fandom on here has gotten very quiet... It seems like there are hundreds of stories by two or three people meant to flood the fandom. How troubling and sad... There used to be a pretty good community of AA fans on here... :(

Anyway, I'm canceling the call for OCs in an effort to not hold the story hostage. (I'm starting to suspect the only offer I had is a troll) Things get pretty dark from here on out... for a little while anyway.

I'd love reviews, but I stopped holding my breath for them... I'm still having fun with this, so the show will go on!