Turnabout Titan
Chapter Five: Trial Day Two

December 18th, 2008

9:23 AM

Jump City District Courthouse

Foyer

Phoenix Wright hung his head and began massaging his temples. "Ugh, what a night."

"What's the matter, Mr. Nick?" Pearl asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night." Wright walked across the room to a bench and sat down, the girls following close behind.

"You'll do fine, Nick," Maya said, beaming. "You pulled off a whole case with amnesia once. There's no way a little sleep deprivation will do you in!"

"I wish I could share your confidence," Wright said. "But from what I've heard, Franziska has brought in a new witness and that second photograph."

"But someone attacked the Titans the other day! That's gotta count for something."

"I dunno…"

"Hey, Phoenix!" a voice called from nearby. Wright craned his neck to see Ragnarök and Yin, the freshman Titans, along with Beast Boy and Cyborg heading his way. The voice had been Ragnarök's.

"Um, hi… What's going on?"

"Well, the trial is about to start," Rag said.

Yin looked grim. "Robin's going to have to testify about his identity today. I gave the police my photos that prove Bruce Wayne isn't Batman. They should get to you soon."

Wright noticed that Cyborg and Beast Boy gave each other a nervous glance, and Wright reached into his pocket and took hold of the Magatama…

Instantly, Psyche-Locks appeared on Ragnarök, Cyborg and Beast Boy, but none on Yin. What were they hiding?

"The trial starts in five minutes!" called the nearby voice of the bailiff. "Anyone who has business in this court hurry up and get your sorry butts in here."

Wright facevaulted, and the girls' eyes widened.

"That's the most unprofessional-sounding bailiff I've ever heard," Pearl said.

"You said it, Pearly." Maya followed the rest of the crew into the courtroom, and Phoenix stood at the defense podium. The Titans and other onlookers filed into the audience chairs and Robin was led to the defendant's seat. Wright noticed that the Bloominflaurs were sitting near the Titans, even their young daughter…

What was her name again? He checked the court record.

Jasmine.

Okay, why bring a six year old to the court? Wright quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn't any of his business. Now they just had to find a way to stop Franziska von Karma from deploying any more nasty tricks and it wouldn't be hard to show that Robin was totally innocent. Despite photos showing him standing over the body with the murder weapon. Yeah. No problem.

Wright gulped.

"It will be okay, Nick," Maya said, trying to comfort him.

Wright nodded and tried to put on a brave face. "Yeah. It will be."

The judge slammed his gavel into the table. "Is the prosecution ready?"

Von Karma took a bow and smiled sadistically. "Ready as ever, your honor."

"Is the defense ready?"

Phoenix nodded. "Yes, your honor."

"Then we shall proceed. Miss von Karma, please call your first witness to the stand."

"Very well," she replied. "My first witness is something I rarely need or have any use for, but given the pitiful and futile objections that I know the defense will raise in order to derail this trial into a farce, I feel is necessary."

"Which is?" Wright asked.

"A professional government witness," Franziska answered. "I call Mr. Puff Huffington, an expert on photography and digital manipulation to the stand."

A man who couldn't have been any older than thirty-five took the stand and began a strange series of repeated motions, fastening his tie, then allowing his eyes to dart around the room briefly before fastening his tie again. Phoenix found it strangely mesmerizing and barely heard von Karma when she began speaking.

Von Karma drew the court's attention to two photos. Wright observed that one of the photos was the one of Robin standing over the body with the metal staff in hand. The other made him suck in a short breath, a new well of dread beginning to form in his body. The light wasn't as great, as there was no flash, but it clearly showed Robin, both hands on the bo-staff, and the business end jammed into the chest of Frank Newitt.

"Sir," she said, "Please testify that these photos have not been doctored in any way."

The judge glared at von Karma. "That is not the proper way to phrase such an inquiry, Miss von Karma," he began..

Until her whip lashed out and smacked the judge across the face.

"I will determine what is and isn't appropriate in my cases, your foolish honor."

"OBJECTION!" Phoenix cried. "Your honor, the prosecution cannot physically abuse you!"

"I will determine what the prosecution can and can't do in my court!" The judge snapped at Phoenix. "I'm sorry, sir, but you will be penalized for this."

Phoenix cringed as one of his five points until contempt of court vanished. How is it that she hits the guy with a whip and I get punished for it?

"Now, please testify," Franziska said.

Puff nodded. "The photos were carefully examined in both their print and original digital forms. Computers have thankfully been advanced enough so that we can determine with a degree of certainly comparable to DNA evidence whether or not a photo has been digitally manipulated."

"And?"

"My staff and I concluded that neither of these photos has been digitally manipulated in the slightest." Dr. Huffington pushed his glasses up, straightened his tie again, and looked around nervously. "Or more accurately, the possibility is less than 0.03 or that the edit was less than fifteen by fifteen pixels."

"What's the resolution of the photos?" Wright asked.

Puff's eyes widened. "Um, I believe the camera in question takes photos at 2.1 megapixels."

"This is correct," von Karma said, holding up the camera itself as evidence.

Wright clutched his Magatama but found no Psyche-Locks on him. Then, an odd thought occurred to him and he shrugged. "The time stamps on the photos. Presumably they were stamped by the camera itself."

"Indeed," said Puff. "The time stamps are consistent with the prosecution's order of events. At approximately 10:02 and four seconds the first photo was taken of the defendant standing over the victim holding the staff. The second photo, with the victim impaled on the staff was taken at 10:02 PM and eleven seconds."

Phoenix's stomach chilled as though it had turned to ice.

"As you can see," von Karma said, "my case was utterly perfect. The second photo was withheld only because the first photo demonstrated guilt ever so slightly more clearly."

"Quite," responded the British Judge sarcastically. "Though in the future, please do not pull such stunts again."

"Of course not, your honor."

"Alright, Mr. Wright. You may cross-examine the witness."

Wright nodded, but was sweating heavily. He couldn't think of a concrete thing to say and felt like the vague ideas he'd had were even now slipping away. He stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow, and then sighed. "I don't think I have any ques—"

"Wait a minute," Maya shouted. "What if he just took a photo of Robin taking the staff out, then changed the time and took another photo so it ended up looking like he did it in the other direction?"

For the first time all day, Franziska didn't smile.

Wright beamed. I think Maya zinged her with a possibility she didn't consider! Way to go, Maya!

"Unfortunately for your case, that seems unlikely," Puff Huffington said. "You see, changing the time and date setting on this camera would take at least a full three minutes. The time it would take for a ten year old to accomplish this task is far greater than the time it would have taken to remove the staff from his chest."

"Not to mention," von Karma added, suddenly glaring daggers at Nick and Maya, "that such a statement accuses poor young Edward Bloominflaur of being complicit in the—completely imaginary, I must add—framing of your client, Mr. Phoenix Wright."

"I guess it would," Wright answered, trying not to cow to von Karma's persuasive abilities. (Most of which involved her whip.)

"But as you know from yesterday, young Edward is a huge fan of your client, Mr. Phoenix Wright. Why would he frame Robin, the hero he adores more than any other?"

"I have… no explanation for that," Nick admitted, cursing mentally.

"In that case, I'm afraid you'll have to be penalized again, Mr. Wright."

"WHAT!?" Nick gasped. "I didn't mean to—"

"I'm sorry," the Judge said. "But baseless accusations won't be permitted in this courtroom." The gavel came down and Phoenix felt his case going up in smoke.

He sat down and sighed.

"Does the prosecution have any more witnesses to call to the stands?"

"No, your honor. You might as well deliver your verdict at this moment."

"Hold it!" Wright blasted. "We've not even explored the whole part where my client has no motive, your honor! If he wasn't on the planet when the forged documents that give him motive were created, then there's a whole avenue to attack!"

CRACK!

The end of Franziska's whip stung against Nick's face even after the physical object itself had retracted. "You'd be wise to keep your plans and stratagems a bit closer to the vest, Mr. Phoenix Wright."

I'm going to whip her some day, Wright growled mentally. Then quickly tried to dismiss the very disturbing notions brought up when his id began pushing other uses for whips to the forefront. Bad choice of words.

Wright felt Robin poke him on the shoulder, and turned. "Put me on the stand. Bring up Timothy Drake."

"Are you sure? I'm not convinced he's not you."

"Just do it. Leslie Thompkins will be here, I hope. Until then I need to stall for time."

"Fine." Wright turned to the judge. "I want to bring Robin back to the stand."

The Judge nodded and allowed the defendant to take the stand. "Every word you say will be watched carefully, young man."

"I understand." Robin sat down and Phoenix stood up.

"Alright," the blue-clad attorney began. "You insist that you aren't Tim Drake but that you've heard this name. Can you elaborate on that?"

"Drake is dead," Robin said. "I'll explain what happened though I'm not capable of proving it right now. I'll let the judge be the gauge of my credibility.

"Tim Drake was adopted by Bruce Wayne four years ago following the death of Drake's father. Unfortunately, Wayne's considerable amount of money was... coveted, and Drake was kidnapped by the supervillain known as The Joker."

The very mention of Joker's name drew several gasps from the audience.

"After three weeks, Mr. Wayne was desperate and through some shady contacts that I didn't even know existed, asked Batman to track Drake down. Batman, myself, and Batgirl discovered Drake's location and brought the ransom money. Unfortunately the Joker was duplicitous as usual. We gave him the money, he gave us Drake. But he'd done things to the kid—shocked him and pumped him full of serums."

Robin's stone face winced, the memories obviously painful. Wright thought he was struggling to continue… Wow, it must have been awful.

"Joker turned Drake into a miniature version of himself. He laughed about how brilliant he was. Then the Joker ordered him to kill Batman, and tossed him a spear gun. But instead of shooting Batman, Drake attacked the Joker and pushed him into one of the electrodes Joker had shocked Drake with, then turned up the voltage. Joker died."

More shocked gasps, even from Raven and the rest of the Titans.

"After that, we took Drake back to Bruce Wayne's estate and he sent him to his physician Leslie Thompkins. The next I heard, Drake was dead."

Suddenly, Franziska von Karma burst out laughing. "You expect me to believe this ludicrous story without a shred of evidence?"

"You accused me of being Tim Drake with forged evidence," Robin replied. "I think I have the moral high ground here."

The gavel came down. "Mr. Robin, Miss von Karma clearly didn't know the evidence had been forged and isn't the one on trial for murder. You will control your tongue."

Robin didn't respond. Wright arced his eyebrow and held onto his Magatama. Sure enough, Robin was hiding something…

But what? What was going on in that head of Robin's?

The previous night, the streets of Bludhaven had been typically busy. Muggings here and there, some cocaine smugglers. No-Arms McKee had moved back up to Gotham, but some villains like Blockbuster wouldn't let their little rat hole city go…

And Robin hadn't found anyone more threatening than your average crack junkie looking for someone to buy from.

Suddenly a series of muffled explosions drew Robin's attention to the south east, and he began running off in that direction. His body protested, telling him it hadn't had enough sleep or enough exercise to justify such stress, but Robin couldn't listen to it. He flipped over an air conditioning unit and leapt over one last alley before finding a vacant lot…

Well, vacant, except for a robotic supervillain and a young man in a black jumpsuit with a blue eagle across the chest.

Nightwing hurled himself at the robot in front of him, the one known as the Plutonium Man, and flung an N shuriken at it. The projectile exploded, but it only stunned the massive machine, and Plutonium man through a punch that clobbered Nightwing, sending him crashing into a pile of garbage.

"Least it was relatively soft," Dick Grayson commented to himself. He struggled to his feet fast enough to dodge an energy blast from the Plutonium Man and rolled out of the way of a follow up shot. Dick pulled a pair of escrima sticks from his belt and bounded in a strafing charge towards his foe, hoping to get a clear shot at the robot's head…

Unfortunately, not all robots are created equal, and this particular one could completely pivot around on its torso—which it did, smashing Nightwing into a chain link fence.

It wasn't pleasant at all.

Worse, when Dick opened his eyes, the robot was aiming its plasma canon directly at his head. There was no way Nightwing could get out of the way in time…

"For TO MORROW!"

But before a loud zapping sound and pain were all Nightwing knew, he heard a different sound…

And saw a small explosive disk fall into one of the ventilation holes of the plasma cannon.

KRAKOW!!

The blast severed the entire arm and staggered the robot, even as the robot's attacker landed next to Nightwing, his bo-staff out at the ready.

"Robin!" Nightwing gasped. "Shouldn't you be in jail?"

"I snuck out." Robin's only reply.

"Why?"

"I needed to talk to Leslie—and to you. Your name has come up in some of the evidence. Apparently the victim left a note for you in is apartment—four years ago."

Plutonium Man lurched forward, indicating he'd recovered.

Nightwing ran at the Plutonium Man and Robin was right beside him. "I'd never even heard of Frank Newitt till this case broke. This is as much a mystery to me as it is to you."

Nightwing and Robin attacked the giant robot in tandem; Nightwing went high and Robin went low, and then vice-versa. Soon only a pile of scrap remained.

"Holy clean up crews, Batman." Dick said with a self-depreciating smirk. "Seriously though, Plutonium Man's name isn't just hyperbole. I'm going to have to call in a radiation crew. Thanks for the save, by the way."

"No problem," Robin said, allowing himself a smirk as well.

"And Tim…"

"Hm?"

"You do realize you take yourself way too seriously, don't you?"

Robin extended a hand and shot his Bat-grapple skyward. "So they tell me."

Nightwing watched as Tim vanished back into the shadows. "Maybe it's time me and Barbara paid a visit to Jump City."

Robin sat back down in the defendant's chair. "We need to stall for more time. Have Raven or Starfire testify about the woman that attacked them and Maya yesterday."

Nick regarded him oddly. "Are you sure I'm your legal counsel?"

"A superhero can't legally defend himself without unmasking. Please just stall for a little more time."

Von Karma was tapping her fingers impatiently against the prosecution's desk when Nick finally decided to act. "Alright, I'm going to call Starfire of the Titans to the stand."

The young alien princess goggled. "Me?"

"Is there any other Starfire here?" Wright asked with a friendly smile."

On the other side of the room, a dark-haired young Myorgian woman in a black and yellow costume and a large muscular man in soviet winter solider uniform got up and left the courtroom, their heads hanging dejectedly.

"Please state your name and occupation," said the judge.

Starfire nodded respectfully. "Yes, Friend Your Honor. I am Koriand'r, princess of the planet Tamaran and a member of the Teen Titans. In your language, you may say my name as Star Fire."

"Very well," the judge said, slightly bewildered to have space royalty in his court.

"Miss Starfire," Wright began, drawing a giggle from the alien princess. "Would you please testify as to what occurred yesterday in the office of Frank Newitt in the Moby Paper Factory?"

"Ah yes," Starfire beamed. "Raven and Friend Maya and myself were investigating any possible leads as to why Mr. Newitt was killed. You see, Raven is a psychic—" Starfire briefly glanced in Raven's direction in the stands and tilted her head oddly when Raven gave her a cautioning glance. "—and she sensed that something was amiss in the room."

"Can you please be more specific than that?" von Karma pulled her coiled whip tightly. "What was 'amiss' about this office?"

Starfire glared. "If the unkind prosecutor would allow me to finish, I would explain this. You see, we found that there was someone or something in the room that had disguised itself. It appeared on the shelf as a fortunetelling orb of the billiards."

"She means a magic 8-Ball, your honor," Wright explained.

"Yes! Raven cast a spell on the orb that revealed its true nature, and as she did so, we were attacked by a strange flying woman."

"Oh, really? Is a woman with the ability to fly really so strange?" Franziska asked.

"That was not the strange part about her," Starfire began. "It was as though she was made of light—a hologram perhaps. Yet she struck us with far more power than expected, disabling us long enough to escape through a window."

CRACK!

Von Karma's whip lashed out and struck Starfire across the face. The prosecutor leaned forward and began spewing venom. "You expect us to believe this on your word alone? This court has no proof that what this witness is saying even occurred!"

Before Starfire could vaporize von Karma for the attack--

"OBJECTION!"

The cry of Phoenix Wright brought all eyes to him. "The Titans are nothing if not professional," he explained. "This piece of evidence was added to the court record only this morning. Over thirteen eye witnesses saw the battle between Starfire, Raven, and the mysterious flying woman."

Von Karma reeled as if physically injured by Wright's evidence.

Starfire continued. "And as I am sure the witnesses will agree, the battle ended when the woman who called herself Ten spoke a farewell in one of this planet's many languages and vanished in a flash of light."

"Very well," von Karma said. "Now, what does all this mean? You were attacked by a supervillain?"

Wright slammed his hands down against his desks. "Don't be so blind, von Karma! It's obvious why this is significant—there was a supervillain in Frank Newitt's office the day after the murder! This woman was either looking for something—or trying to plant more forged evidence!"

Phoenix's music began blaring in his mind as he placed his hands on his hips and smiled smugly. "Your case is losing its legs, Franziska."

TWHAP!!!

The sting of her whip knocked Phoenix back into his seat.

"This is an outrage! You're basing your case on nothing but meaningless conjecture! Perhaps the supervillain thought that merely since the victim no longer needed Frank Newitt's things, they could simply steal anything they wished from the deceased's office."

Wright grimaced. "I suppose that's possible."

"There. You see. All you had was baseless innuendo. And without any solid evidence to disprove the motive—your case shall fail."

"HOLD IT!"

This time the voice did not belong to Phoenix Wright. Once again, eyes and necks craned, but this time to see who had just entered the courtroom. An elderly woman who looked to be in her sixties was accompanied by a red-haired woman with glasses and a tall man, both of whom looked to be in their mid-to-late twenties.

"And who are you?" the judge asked the woman.

"My name is Dr. Leslie Thompkins," she explained, drawing recognition from the audience. "I expect that I'm on the list of defense witnesses."

The judge looked over the list and nodded. "Indeed you are, though I was under the impression you would be unable to present yourself in court today."

"When Mister Wayne's name is being dragged through the mud in this manner, I suppose he thinks it is his duty to send someone to clear it."

Wright stepped forward. "Then I would like you to testify about the impossibility of Robin being Tim Drake. The court has already been made aware of the circumstances that lead up to him coming into your care."

"Indeed." Leslie Thompkins sat down at the witness chairs, and the two accompanying her sat down in the audience. "I don't pretend to know the details of the night young Tim Drake was rescued from the Joker. I'm a pacifist by nature and abhor the actions of the Batman, though I don't deny that they may be necessary. However, Tim Drake was brought to me by Bruce Wayne himself. Mister Wayne didn't want a media frenzy over the kidnapping of his adopted son, and instructed me to keep the affair as quiet as possible."

"Very well." This from von Karma.

"I began therapy sessions with young Drake, gradually undoing the damage that the Joker had done to him. Unfortunately, the closer Tim got to sanity, the more divorced from his life he became. One night he tied his bed sheets around his neck and the bed posts and threw himself out a five story window. I was devastated, and so were Mr. Wayne and his older surrogate son Dick Grayson. We buried him at a private cemetery near Mr. Wayne's parents and tried to avoid making this public until now."

"Because this is the second child Mr. Wayne lost, correct?" Von Karma's voice made it clear she was more concerned with how that fact benefited her case than she was with the welfare of Mr. Wayne's children.

The man and woman who had accompanied her in, as well as Thompkins herself, visibly winced. "This is correct, though I would hardly have called Jason Todd a son to Bruce in the way Mr. Grayson and Tim Drake were."

Phoenix looked over at Robin, who was sitting stone faced looking over the proceedings. It seemed harsh that he could be so cold. Then he noticed something even more peculiar. All the while Thompkins spoke, Raven's face was wincing in pain, her eyes shut as tightly as humanly possible… As though Raven was being hurt by the testimony more than Robin was…

Franziska's voice broke him out of his reverie.

"One last thing," von Karma said. Wright thought he saw her licking her lips out of the corner of his eye. "You do have evidence to back this up, correct?"

"Of course." Dr. Thompkins handed a small folder to Franziska von Karma, who looked through it before passing it on to the judge.

"This is Drake's death certificate and photos of his hanging." The judge looked vaguely queasy. "This is disturbing but quite convincing evidence."

Franziska von Karma sat down without saying a word. But the look she gave Nick spoke far louder and clearer than any words she could have spoken. She was pure rage, and the only thing holding her back was the presence of seven superheroes and the bailiff in the court room.

"The prosecution has no further questions," she finally acquiesced.

"This case has become quite unnerving, but so far I've seen nothing to convince me that Robin didn't commit the murder—nor have I seen anything to convince me that he did. Therefore, I shall adjourn the court for one more day and we shall conclude proceedings tomorrow."

The gavel came down, signaling the end of an arduous battle.

But the anger Wright had seen in Franziska's eyes?

The battle was won, but the war was far from over.