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 24

About Face

Miles had removed his blouse while he worked, laying out his hypothesis on the rolling whiteboard he'd borrowed from one of the classrooms the LNs used for training. He'd come in early—working it out with the CDO, so he could be let in at 0600.

It was nearly eight now, and Mike still hadn't arrived. The hearing to arraign Mitchell was supposed to take place at fourteen hundred. He was hoping to finish his chart before Mike got there and so he startled when she tapped at the conference room door.

"Lieutenant Cykes?"

"Good morning," she leaned forward as if trying to look past him into the room and instinctively Miles narrowed the width of the opening, "Is there anyone else here?"

"No," Miles said, eying the young Marine with some suspicion, "Can I help you Lieutenant Cykes?"

"Rob sent me to try and talk to you—about the plea deal…. He thinks you're intimidated by him—"

Miles had to cover his mouth to stop himself laughing in front of her and his reaction made him let go of the door and it swung open. She peered in curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"One moment, Lieutenant Cykes—"

"Athena is fine," she interrupted.

"Yes, well," He closed the door and went to grab his uniform blouse before rejoining her in the hall outside the conference room.

"What is going on, Lieutenant Edgeworth!"

Her eyes blazed as he locked the door behind him and then he crossed his arms and settled his glare on her.

"Sorry, Lieutenant—"

"Athena—"

"Yes," Miles nodded dismissively, "You can tell Commander Hammond one, that I am not intimidated by him, and two, the government has no plans to deal with him on this case."

"Okay," Athena looked at him, she seemed relieved by his reply though wary still, "So we're going to do this then?"

"I don't think so," Miles said, "We're working to drop the charges against your client—hopefully, we'll hear something soon."

"You're going to drop…"

Miles raised an eyebrow sharply, "That is my prerogative, Lieutenant—"

"Athena," she stared thoughtfully around the hall, her face suddenly lit up, "Good! No I can deal with that…. I was looking forward to my first trial, but this is good."

"You agree with me then, Lieutenant—"

"Athena—"

"Athena?"

"Yeah, of course!" She gave him a determined look, "I really believe he's innocent."

"I assume Commander Hammond will be pleased as well?"

Athena grinned, "I don't know—he was really looking forward to trouncing you in court!"

Miles grimaced, "Was he now?"

"So what are you hiding? You were being all secretive—"

"Lieu—Athena," Miles led her away from the conference room door, "You understand, Athena, if your client is not involved, then you have no reason to view our case."

"Did you find the murderer?" Her eyes gleamed and she looked hopefully up at him.

"Well now," Miles wagged a finger pedantically at her, "Let's go with the term suspect…. Murderer has such serious implications… That's for the court to decide, isn't it?"

It was after ten when Mike showed up, looking a little harried. Commander Nielsen was with him.

"All right, Edgeworth," the Commander said with a smirk, "You got some 'splaining to do…"

Miles checked his watch, "Are we still going to do the hearing?"

"Looks like it," Commander Nielsen replied, "his honor wants to hear why you're doing this, after we scrambled to get this thing to court."

"No problem, sir," Miles smirked and then looked at Mike, "I take it you have good news?"

"He's in custody," Mike said with a slight frown, "They're processing Mitchell's paperwork now too, so he should be out by tonight, and on his way home before the end of the week."

"Good," Miles nodded and then gestured toward the display on the whiteboard, "So this is where we stand now—considering the new evidence, and additional statements."

"Lieutenant Richard Wellington attacked Lieutenant Junior Grade Preston at the hotel where the dinner was held just before leaving the premises with Lieutenant Mitchell and the others in his party."

Mike frowned and Commander Nielsen crossed his arms, prompting him with a nod of his head.

"We need a medical expert to testify and more details on her medical history, but I suspect Preston had an underlying medical condition that caused her to expire between zero two and zero six the next morning. The toxicology report gave no indication of poison or narcotics—however, an addendum to the autopsy report lists the cause of death as lactic acidosis. This is a very broad term that can apply to any number of medical conditions. This is where we'll need the medical expert to clarify."

"Okay? Mike crossed his arms too, sounding a little defensive, "Why do you think she was attacked by Wellington and not Mitchell?"

Miles held up a finger and smiled, "His glasses—did you know he wore glasses?"

Mike shrugged.

"Well, turns out the Police in Zeng Fa collected them as evidence at the crime scene before our people got over there," Miles put his hands on his hips, "Admiral has reached out to RLSO Westpac in Yokosuka, to see if we can negotiate an evidence transfer."

"Admiral who?" Commander Nielsen asked peering at Edgeworth.

"Strike Group Admiral," Miles replied and then cleared his throat, "I don't think it will be too much of a problem. Finally, I have a theory on the motive as well. Seems Lieutenant Wellington had a grievance about an award presented to Lieutenant Commander Potts last deployment—this happened in July of last year. He seemed determined to blame Admin for the error—though it was a flag level award—not presented by the ship."

Commander Nielson looked over at Mike with a raised eyebrow, "Well, that's more of what I like to see…. Are you going to file charges?"

Miles looked at him with a frown, "I can, Commander."

Commander Nielsen shrugged, "I'll call over to DC in a couple of hours—I don't see why we couldn't take this from here—unless you really want to be involved?"

Miles glanced at Mike and then smiled, "I can't speak for Special Agent Townsend, but I'd just as soon go home…"

Commander Nielsen slapped Miles on his upper arm and then hitched his belt and turned to leave, "Awesome, great work Edgeworth—go ahead and get ready for the hearing, I'll start on this."

Then he walked out. When they were alone, Mike grinned and pumped a fist in the air, "Miles! Awesome!"

Miles allowed himself a smile and leaned on the table, relieved, "It was all rather rushed—I wasn't sure it would work."

"And we can go home!"

Miles chuckled.

He returned to his room at the Gateway just before noon after resolving the clerical issues brought on with their change in plan. Miles set out his blues—which he'd already prepped the night before—and then checked the time before getting the the shower.

He called Phoenix while sitting in the lobby awaiting the duty driver from RLSO.

"Hello Miles," Phoenix's greeting was unusually flat.

"Hi," Miles was taken aback by it, "I… em… I hope it's not a bad time?"

"I'm at work…heading out soon," Phoenix said, "But it's not a bad time..."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine," Phoenix's response was noticeably clipped.

"I missed you on Sunday," Miles was struggling—this wasn't his strong suit.

Phoenix didn't say anything.

Miles could feel panic creep over him, "Em… I have the arraignment hearing here in about an hour. Shall I call you back later?"

"If you want to Miles," Phoenix's tone was decidedly dismissive, "I have to go… My ride is here…"

"I love you," Miles said but Phoenix only hung up in reply.

Miles swallowed and put his phone away, cradling his combination cover in his other arm. Had he missed something?

He recognized the duty driver when the white van pulled up at the entrance to the Gateway and perched the garish cover on his head as he stepped out of the door.

They entered the courtroom and took their seats. Lieutenant Cykes eyed him with a smile as he came around to the prosecution table, and he was relieved when Commander Nielsen came in and joined him. Commander Hammond gave the two of them a disparaging look.

Lieutenant Mitchell was escorted into the courtroom by MA Petty Officers wearing their blue Navy Working Uniforms coupled with gun belts instead of dress uniforms. He looked better than he had in weeks and actually smiled at his escorts when he was settled in the defendant's chair. Miles watched surreptitiously as he leaned over to speak to Commander Hammond.

Commander Nielsen was surprisingly laconic as he flipped through the reports Miles had finished typing up over the weekend. Miles leaned back in his chair and tried not to think about Phoenix.

"All rise!"

November 13, 2017

1400 Hours

RLSO Pearl Harbor

Auxiliary Court Room 4

"Court is now in session for the arraignment hearing in this General Court Martial, the honorable Captain Malcolm Anderson is presiding."

"Please be seated," Captain Anderson said.

Miles stood at the podium and read the docket number, "United States Government versus Lieutenant Peter Aaron Mitchell. The accused has been charged with Murder, Conspiracy to commit Murder, and Conduct Unbecoming an Officer."

"Does the defense wish to enter a plea—"

Commander Hammond stood, but Miles hadn't pulled back from the podium, "Captain, if it please the court, the Government wishes to make a motion to dismiss the charges against Lieutenant Mitchell at this time."

Commander Hammond sat back down, and the Captain glared at Miles.

"Does the Government care to explain the reason for this motion?"

"Captain, the government has determined, based on new evidence—evidence that was unavailable at the time of arrest, that Lieutenant Mitchell was clearly not involved in this case," Miles felt Commander Nielsen move in behind him and then tap his arm.

It was over too soon.

Miles returned to the borrowed conference room immediately after they were dismissed from the courtroom. He was soon met by Mike and Commander Nielsen.

"That's all she wrote, boys!" Commander Nielsen said as he stepped inside, arms raised. Mike was leaning against the back wall of the conference room—he was wearing a suit for the hearing and unbuttoned the jacket now. He was grinning.

"So what's the final word from Division?" Miles asked.

"You're going home," Commander Nielsen looked at Miles directly, still grinning, "And our little RLSO will get a big case."

"They're sending me back to D.C.?" Miles was surprised—definitely relieved—but surprised none the less. He'l be home before the ship made home port.

"The other guys from staff will head home as well," Nielsen added, "I'm guessing a lot of them are out of San Diego or Bremerton?"

Mike nodded, "The ship guys still have to meet the ship…. I'm pretty sure they're closer to Mexico now. But on this side of the Canal."

Miles returned to his room at the Gateway, almost giddy—wait until I tell Phoenix about this!

He changed quickly out of his blues and packed them away. He probably still wouldn't fly out for another day or two, but he was definitely ready to leave. He sat on the end of the bed, socked feet planted on the floor, and dialed.

It rang to voicemail—which apparently still hadn't been cleared out. Miles felt a sinking realization as the voice on the other end informed him that the voicemail box was full and then cheerily offered him a 'goodbye'. He checked the time—it was after three—so that would make it after nine in Virginia. Maybe he likes to go to bed early?

Nine is not very early. It's not so late either…

Miles frowned at the wall before deciding to at least call Franziska.

"Allo?"

"It's me, Franziska," he said, still worried about Phoenix.

"You finally decided to call," she had that affected drawl in her voice, it made her sound cold and uninterested. He smiled.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, love," Miles said.

"Oh, Brüderchen, I am always busy," she replied airily, "But I will pause for you. Since you've been so scarce for so many months. Are you done with the ship?"

"Yes," Miles said, "I'm still in Hawaii—but I should be back in D.C. by the end of the week."

"Okay, Miles," she sounded distracted suddenly, "Will you come up sooner then?"

"I can't say for sure, until my request is approved," he said, "but I don't see that it would be an issue."

"Could you stay for Thanksgiving and Christmas?" For the first time since the call started, Miles could hear the pleading note in her voice. It reminded him of his sister as a child—and he smiled more.

"I don't know Franziska," he replied, "I don't think they'd let me take so much leave at one time—especially during the holidays…"

"But you went on a ship, certainly there's special consideration for—"

"I'll see what I can do, Franziska. How are you doing? How goes your studies?"

"Good of course," she scoffed, "I am perfect. I'm graduating early—in December—but the commencement ceremony will be in the summer with the rest of my class."

"Congratulations," He wasn't surprised—Mister Von Karma had pushed him the same way—why would he spare his daughter?

"I'm working with Papa on a case right now, it's going to trial after Thanksgiving!"

Miles smiled at that, "With your help, he's sure to win."

"Why do you mock me, Miles?"

"Franziska—I wasn't—"

"You're always disparaging me…"

He shook his head on the phone, and rolled his eyes as she dragged out the old argument.

"How is your Papa?" Miles wasn't sure why but he was unwilling to say the name out loud, "All is well, I take it?"

Franziska started in earnest about her Papa—the talk at once obsequious and full of praise and near worship—and yet… yet…

"He will be disappointed," she added, regarding the case they were working on together.

His heart ached for her—she was only eighteen, and to have come so far—but then, Mister Von Karma had been very effective in teaching them to fear his disappointment. Even now—after so many years—Miles dreaded seeing him. Mister Von Karma didn't think much of his decision to join the Navy.

Miles hung up with Franziska, feeling the trepidation that came along any time he went back there. But he couldn't leave her on her own. After all, he'd deal with Mister Von Karma for a few days—she had to live there.

Talking with his sister had pushed his concern about Phoenix further back into his mind—now he was occupied with concern for Franziska. He poked around the tiny, nondescript room—it looked like any Gateway he'd been in up and down the East Coast.

It was nearly five when a visitor knocked on his door and Miles went to the door with little expectation and almost gasped in surprise to see Pete and Athena standing out in the corridor.

"Afternoon," Miles tried to cover up his shock.

"Hey Miles," Pete smiled at him and Athena waved over his shoulder, "We were going to get dinner out in town…"

"Er… well…" Miles stuttered unable to break away from those blue, blue eyes.

"Come on," Athena said, "Put on a collared shirt and meet us in the lobby."

"Sure," Miles nodded absently, "Five minutes…"

When Miles arrived in the lobby, the group had swelled to include Lieutenant Parker, Lieutenant Bailey, Lieutenant Currier, and Ensign Ming. Mike was there too with four guys Miles couldn't immediate place—but later discovered they were the MA Petty Officers that had escorted Mitchell on the COD.

"Sorry," Miles said as he joined the group.

"You're good, Miles," Athen said brightly, "the taxis aren't here yet."

The taxis did arrive only a few minutes later—two mini-van sized taxis—and the group split and piled into the vehicles. Miles ended up sitting with Mike and the MA Petty Officers and was eventually joined by Commander Potts—who shown up after Miles.

He wasn't sure where they were going—though Mike repeated the name of the restaurant two or three times as if it was some name he should've recognized. It was in a shopping center in Hawaii Kai off of a highway that followed the coastline. The drive seemed long—but that may have been because he'd never been there before.

Mike and the MA's were chatting—apparently one of them had been previously stationed in Pearl Harbor on another ship—but he wasn't following the conversation. Instead his eye was caught on the lowering sun and the way the yellowed afternoon rays hit the water. He was thinking about Phoenix again. So Hawaii wasn't going to happen now…. But he seemed angry… Because we argued about… About…

For the life of him, Miles couldn't remember what they'd argued about.

Miles swallowed, staring at the impossibly blue water—the ocean never looked so inviting as it did here—not even back home. He must've been frowning too, because Commander Potts turned in his seat and looked at him.

"Doing okay, JAG?"

"Yes," Miles met his eye and nodded, "It's…. It's very beautiful here…"

Commander Potts laughed, "Sure… It's great to visit—so they say."

Miles nodded absently, "Beautiful…"

He used to love the water…

"…wouldn't want to stay here for too long though…" Miles startled when he realized Commander Potts was still talking.

"Hmm… yes…" He quipped absently and turned back to the scenery whipping past them in the window. Phoenix filled his thoughts now—why was he so angry?

If you couldn't find him, you'd find him on the beach—Ms. Wright used to say that. Miles had never been fond of the beach—the scent of brine, sand and wet…. He never understood what was so appealing. He smiled remembering a teenaged Phoenix—his jeans rolled up to his calves, wet from the surf, sand dusted over the cuffs of his jeans and the brown skin of his legs.

You need to call him…

Miles frowned as the van pulled into the exit lane and soon the ocean was no longer visible in his window. Even Commander Potts had given up on him.

A/N: Thanks for reading!