Xavier normally was not one to channel surf, let alone to watch any kind of television for more than the barest possible minimum amount of time. But after the events of the previous evening, in which he was by no means a remote, passive observer, he felt he needed to keep better tabs on Washington DC. And he figured there'd be lessons in this for the communication and pre-law students, as well as a civics lesson for the younger pupils. The same reporter that had so annoyed him last night was back on, live from the federal courthouse.

"All protests and pickets have been banned here as a result of the violent turn last night's pro-mutant demonstration," she said. Xavier cringed yet again.

"As it is," the reporter continued, "the mutant presence in this courthouse is, if anything, stronger than it was yesterday, with testimony delivered by Scott Summers, Alex Summers, Jubilation Lee, Robert Drake and Kurt Wagner, who, it's just been confirmed, is the son of the mutant terrorist code named Mystique."

As if that had any bearing whatsoever on Kurt's character, let alone upon this case. Xavier was not a vindictive sort. But he knew someone who would be interested in spearheading a class-action libel lawsuit. She had dropped a mental hint of it when she spoke with him last night.

" Also it has been rumored that the accused herself, Kassandra Altheim, will take the stand."

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"Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" the bailiff intoned.

"I do," said Kassandra, firmly and quietly. She removed her hand from the Bible and walked to the witness stand as gracefully as she could in her shackles. The bailiff could not resist the instinct to offer her a hand up. He was a good old southern gentleman just shy of retirement. It was hard to forget his prejudices, but even harder to forget his manners. That she was a foreign-born mutant mattered less than the fact that she behaved very much like a regular lady. In fact, the only indication that she was anything but, besides the accusations against her, was the way she glared over reactions to that blue devil looking mutant taking the stand. But though she, like most women these days, would not admit to needing help up to the stand, she graciously accepted anyway. And thanked him.

And now she sat at the witness stand, right hand resting extended before her, the left tucked under her right forearm. Kurt looked upon her, via the closed circuit feed, of course, recalling the long conversation they'd had the night before. It was so like when her father had died. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do to help her through it. And was she? Yes, she was content just to have his friendship. And he never could deprive her of that, even during the times they spent oceans apart. Even when the time he spent on the phone with Kassandra after her grandfather died annoyed Amanda. And then there were other little things he was beginning to remember. Like the expensive phone call Kassandra made from Boston to Hong Kong, just to make sure he'd be okay after Amanda had finally left him.

"Kassandra," said Jack, approaching the witness stand, "what specifically was your mission with regard to Operation Conclave?"

"To expose and neutralize the threat the Church of Humanity posed to international security."

"Which was detailed in your reports as well as the testimony of at least five other witnesses. But why would a small religious sect pose such a threat? You and the others seemed so convinced that even if they had succeeded in setting up Mr. Wagner as a modern antipope, their plot was doomed to fail."

"Because the plot I got from the so-called supreme pontiff was not to just bring down the Catholic Church, but to play out the Church of Humanity's own misinterpretation of apocalyptic prophecy. This would have included bringing all religions together into a single ecclesiocracy, after bringing on a false rapture, then attempting to rid the world of mutants- and any non-mutants who wouldn't toe this new religion's line.

"Yes, of course this was doomed to a spectacular failure. And they knew it, too, at least the top three in command did. But it would have been a failure that would cost millions- rather than a few score- lives, if we didn't intervene. Do I need to reiterate everything they were under investigation for at the time, from no small amount of espionage of their own, to theft, assault, false imprisonment, and murder?"

"That won't be necessary," said Jack. "All that is already well documented and submitted to the jury.

"Now, did you plan out your attack on the Cathedral?"

"Agonized over it would be a better way of putting it," Kassandra replied, "but yes."

"Did you intend to kill anyone when you went there?"

"No."

"Thank you. No further questions."

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"Ach, das ist lächerlich," groaned Kassandra, throwing down her pen in frustration over filling out her applications for the FBI. "If I'm not required to answer this question, why are they asking it in the first place?"

"Was ist das?" said Kurt. He looked over her shoulder and smiled when he saw the question that irked her so.

"What is your race or ethnicity?" it said. "Check one- white, black or African American…." How on earth could a half-white, African born American immigrant answer a question like that honestly?

"And would you look at that! Blue isn't listed at all," said Kurt, in mock disappointment.

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Fitzsimmons now took her place before the witness stand, a little bit flustered. The judge had ruled while she questioned Kurt Wagner that questions about his relationship with Mystique were irrelevant, so she knew that inquiring about the rumored closeness between the accused and the son of a terrorist would not get her anywhere. Still, as long as the defendant was being this cooperative, there was still potential to extract some damning testimony from her. "Miss Altheim, what was your first position with the government?"

"I served as a criminal profiler for the FBI."

"And is it true that you were accepted because of what they regarded as your psychic skills?"

"Yes."

"Are you psychic?"

"No."

"Did you tell anyone in the Bureau that?"

"No."

"Did you ever tell them that you were a mutant?"

"They asked if I had any special abilities, not whether or not I was a mutant. I didn't think it was relevant how I came by my abilities, and I didn't want to risk exposing myself to workplace discrimination. So no, I didn't tell them. Just like I didn't answer questions about my ethnicity."

"Well, now that everyone knows you are a mutant anyway, what exactly are your abilities?"

"Where to begin?" said Kassandra, the ghost of a smile flickering across her face. "I like distance running. I'm a pretty good fencer. I'm one of the few women trained in the Zulu martial art of umshiza. I can speak seven languages. People tell me I play the piano pretty well. And, oh, yes. I also have accelerated healing, and I can control time."

Fitzsimmons had to wait for the muffled laughter from the defendant's family to subside. "So you do not have the gift of telepathy or precognition?"

"No."

"Strange how the FBI would get the impression that you were. Why was that?"

"Because I can, under the right circumstances, find out about the past just by looking at the right timelines, and I can see and anticipate the future as it takes shape."

"Now I'm going to have to trust you here, but could you provide a demonstration for the court?"

"Is that entirely necessary?" said Judge Montgomery. "I heard she gave a fine demonstration last night outside the courthouse."

"Nothing the jury or I saw, however," said Fitzsimmons.

"Very well. Bailiff, please remove the defendant's inhibitors," said the judge.

Kassandra found it a pleasant break to be relieved of the inhibitors. They gave her a bit of a headache. And while they did hinder her, she seemed to have Wolverine's resistance. In fact, while she would not reveal that, the only reason they appeared to work was because she let them.

"Now," said Fitzsimmons, "Do you agree that we have not collaborated on arranging this demonstration and that you haven't spoken to me outside the grand jury investigation and this courtroom?"

"Yes," said Kassandra.

"Very well. Tell me something about my future."

"Your most probable future," said Kassandra. "Nothing's definite until it happens. But…" she blinked. "…Okay, I am certain about this. Your biopsy will come back negative."

Fitzsimmons stared agape for a second. She certainly hoped this was right. At the very least, the accused had picked up on just what had been on her mind the most lately. But she quickly regained her composure, as Kassandra expected. And much to her credit. But as the bailiff replaced the inhibitors, Kassandra didn't need full use of her powers to see where this was headed. She braced herself.

"So," said Fitzsimmons, "when you went to confront the Church of Humanity, did you anticipate the probability that you would kill these people?"

"Yes."

"And yet you went there anyway?"

"That was because something worse-"

"Answer the question."

"Yes, of course I did," said Kassandra.

"And you were aware of Lorna Dane's violent state of mind at the time you specifically told Cyclops of the X-Men to bring her along for the raid?"

"Yes, I was."

"Why, then, did you ask to bring her into a situation in which you knew she was likely to kill?"

"Shockingly enough, that was the option likely to result in the least bloodshed. Normally I don't go on about what would have happened, because once something happens, the alternatives become irrelevant. But if she hadn't gone and killed their snipers, Scott, Kurt, Bobby, and Alex would have been killed, and likely Jean and Logan, too. And that cult would have gone on with some adapted and more dangerous form of their original plan."

"So do you think good intentions justified you acting outside of your government authorization, and taking command of a band of mutants?"

"No, I don't think good intentions justify much of anything on their own, particularly something like this. I am sorry."

"Thank you, Miss Altheim," said Fitzsimmons. "No further questions."