Chapter One : Stray Astray
7 : 30 a.m – Skye Residence
"Ema, I..." The shatered remains of the birthday gift on the tiled kitchen floor screamed that any apology given would only rub salt into a gaping and bloody wound, and yet, Lana Skye spoke regardless. "I did not mean..."
Ema Skye, younger sister to the successful, yet cold, Chief Prosecutor, said dully, "Forget it, Lana." The teenager had turned away from her sister, kneeling and gathering the remains of the gift, which had been knocked out of her hands just seconds before by her older sister. "You obviously have much more important buisness to attend to than celebrate your birthday."
Lana watched, speechless, as Ema tipped the pieces of the gift into the waste bin. Then she fled, pushing past her sister to the stairs leading to her bedroom. "Maybe Miss Fey was right," Ema called from the top-most stair, her voice weighted with pain and resentment, "You really have changed." Lana froze, mimicking a deer in the headlights of a vehicle. Only when did Ema slam her bedroom door, causing the apartment walls to quiver, did Lana relax slightly.
The Chief Prosecutor sighed as she stooped to the title floor, finding many of the broken pieces. I did not mean to destroy the gift. She mused as she began the task of sweeping the shards into the duspan that she quickly retrieved from under the sink, I did not intend to do so.
As Lana opened the waste bin to dump the pieces, she froze once more.
The letter Q stared back at her. It seemed to have been created by hand, having been once attached to a platform. She allowed herself a very rare, small twitch of the lip, as she realized what her sister had intended to give her. A 'Queen of Prosecutors' trophy. She poured the pieces of the ruined gift into the bin. She must still believe me to be 'the best of the best'.
The thought caused a shard of terrible guilt to sieze her. 'The best of the best'. Considering her rank inside the Prosecutors Office, the outside populace would believe her to be the best. But I digress. I would rather be the 'best of the best' to you as your sister and only family – but after the that incident...I am sorry. It is best if I continue as I have for the past two years.
Two years. It has been two years since the SL-9 incident. So little time has passed since that terrible day, and yet, it feels like everything has changed. As if I will never return to the way things were...but again I digress. I can never turn back now.
So accustomed of the silence was she, that she was startled when an all-too-familiar melody began to play from the pocket of her jeans. She sighed and took out the device, flipping the bronze-collored phone open.
The I.D. Of the caller read: DAMON GANT. Obviously. I was hoping against logic that the tone did not belong to him. She mentally sighed as she pressed the "send" key. She said, keeping her tone steady and cool, "Chief Prosecutor Lana Skye." As soon as he spoke, her stomach took an unpleasant dive. She was sure her expression, which she had tried to keep neutral, twisted in pain.
"Happy birthday, Lana!" She was sure she heard him slapping his hands together. "Now, Lana, how old are you? Twenty-nine, right? What about dinner, my treat?" She grit her teeth. Ema wanted to do the same tonight. The hateful words of her youngest sister echoed in her head. What makes you think I would agree? "Ah, but sadly, we need you here, Chief Prosecutor."
"Oh?" She asked coolly.
Whatever it is, She thought privately, Hopefully it will keep me past midnight. I could not bear to face Ema again today. She ignored the pain that even thinking of her sister brought her. Ema... Her thoughts were cut short by a loud, cherry laugh.
"Yes, strange going-ons here at the Prosecutor's Office..." What is Damon doing at the Prosecutor's Office? The SL-9 Incident had secured Damon Gant's promotion to Chief of Police. The SL-9 Incident was also, She mused, The cause of my immediate placement as Chief Prosecutor over this district of San Diego. "Can you imagine, Lana, a witness being found guilty of the crime he'd been called in to testify about? Such a thing is unheard of!"
Did I hear that correctly? "I beg your pardon?"
"A witness, Chief Prosecutor Skye." He was mocking her now. She heard it within his voice. "A witness, previously called in to testify about a murder case, was found to have committed the crime himself. And the evidence the rookie Defense Attorney presented proved it."
"The Defense Attorney, who was it?"
At the end of the line, Damon paused. As he spoke, her eyes widened in surprise. "A Mr. Phoenix Wright – apparently, he is the student of Defense Attorney Mia Fey...I believe you two know each other?"Mia...Mia Fey? I have not heard that name in years... Since my schooling years ended. I remember she would do anything to become a Defense Attorney – anything. Another thought struck her. She and I were rather close friends, as I recall.
"Fey?" She replied coldly, "I believe we went to the same school." And we happened to be the best of friends during that time, but you do not need to know that particular piece of information. "That hardly counts for knowing each other nowadays, Chief Gant."
"Indeed. Well, her little rookie has caused quite the stir within your people – Winston Payne is beside himself, the poor man!" That nervous wreck of a man would be beside himself even if this hadn't happened- a rookie beat him. "You had better tell your sister you're going to be late tonight. I can just see all the paperwork flooding your office – get here immediately. Oh, and Lana?"
His voice had changed. It was menacing – the voice that he concealed from the public eye, as she concealed her emotions. She grimanced as if she had been struck, feeling the uneasy emotion within the pit of her stomach slowly beginning to return. "Yes, Chief?"
"Happy birthday." Damon disconnected the line. She slowly closed the bronze device, staring at it as if it had grown fangs and a tail.
He is trying to unnerve me. That is all. There is no threat. Chanting those words within herself, she took her briefcase, which she had placed upon the kitchen table just before Ema had greeted her, stuffing the cell phone into her pocket.
She heard a soft thud from the stairs. With a careful, yet regretful glance toward the staircase, she left her home. It was August, but her sister, having been placed in a special schooling program, did not begin until September.
She allowed herself a moment of pride, before locking her emotions away with the door and hurrying down the creaky metal stairs toward her sky-blue SUV, stowing her briefcase in the trunk before settling into the front seat and turning the ignition.
From the top of the stairs, Ema Skye listened until she heard the clicksignifying that her sister had left the apartment, and waited for the roar of the sky-blue SUV. She knew her sister rarely forgot anything. So when she thundered down the stairs and ripped the kitchen phone off its cradle and furiously dialed a number, she did so without hesitation.
:: -Grey Skyes- ::
8 : 13 – Main Avenue
Linkin Park, "Numb"
"I'm tired of being what you want me to be,
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
Don't know what you're expecting of me
But under the pressure, of walking in your shoes...
[Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow]
Every step that I take is another mistake to you...
[Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow]
I've become so numb, I can't feel you there -
Become so tired, so much more aware -
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me, and be less like you..."
Lana switched off the radio. The blaring noise of what sounded like a punk rock-band distracted her unnessisarily from the task at hand – the hellish traffic of San Diego prevented her from a luxury she used to enjoy as a teenager. Not that I "went wild" like some other teenagers do.
She had been forced to grow up fast, because of the deaths of her parents in a car accident just after her sixteenth birthday. She raised Ema, not wanting to seperate from her little sister – her only remaining family. In those days, she worried about rent, keeping several jobs at once, and her education. How simple those days were, Lana reflected, almost wistfully, Ema and I were inseperable.
"Lana, Lana! Happy birthday, sis!" Lana rose her thin brows as her sister came tumbling down the stairs, a brightly wrapped package held tightly in her hands. "I made this for you! Open it, open it!" Her beaming smile almost made Lana crumble – almost. She retained her cold demeanor. She had to.
"Ema," She said coolly, "I do not have time for this." She stood up and emptied her bowl, half emptied of bland oatmeal, into the sink. She slowly washed her bowl, not daring to turn and face her little sister, whom she strongly supposed would burst into tears. She was surprised when, against her prediction, Ema held fast, and stood her ground before her as she turned around.
Her expression was strong, as she presented the gift proudly, although her smile had transformed into a frown. Her light brown eyes, which she had inherited from their father, were pleading. "Please, Lana? Just one, I promise! And tonight we can - "
"No, Ema.I have to leave."
"But – Lana! It's your birthday! We have to celebrate!" Ema pleaded with her. Lana felt her heart clench as she looked into her siter, pain cutting deep into it as she shook her head, her cold eyes and expression never once giving away. She had to stay strong.
"But -" Lana felt her arm moving upon its own accord. She struck the gift from the hands of her sister, and it fell to the tiled kitchen floor. It shattered, ripping the flimsy box and scattering over the floor. Lana saw Ema's expression transform from hopeful to fear, from fear to anger. Lana knew at that moment that she had gone too far.
BEEP, BEEEEP! An obnoxious horn tore her from her memories of that morning.
She sped forward, the traffic sign having been green for a while now, and the vehicle that had sounded its horn sped past her. It was a bright magenta in color, and rather old-fashioned for this day and age. She knew that vehicle. I have seen it every day for almost three years, in the parking lot of the Prosecutor's Office. Its owner as well – at least from afar. We rarely need to speak to each other. Her suspicions were confirmed as she had no choice but to follow the magenta vehicle into the parking lot of the office, and she watched as the silver-haired man parked vehicle.
Miles Edgeworth: the rising star of the Prosecutor's Office. A young and very talented young man – but plagued constantly by many, whom accuse him of arranged testimony, false evidence...
She sighed quietly, stowing that particular thought away into a corner of her mind. She parked her vehicle and had just taken her briefcase from the trunk of her sky-blue SUV when she heard a deep, handsome voice from behind her, "Chief Prosecutor Skye?"
She slowly turned to face him. Miles Edgeworth, whom she had arranged to deal false evidence in court that day, two years ago. "Mr. Edgeworth." She said in greeting, her eyebrows arching in surprise – the rising Prosecutor usually made it a point not to go near her. "Is there something you need?" What now? I am very nearly late, and there is a crisis that needs to be solved inside this very building.
"Have you heard?" He asked bluntly. Obviously, he is refering to the incident with a certain Prosecutor Winston Payne and Mr. Phoenix Wright.
"Yes." She said, motioning for him to walk beside her as she stepped forward, which he complied to without hesitation. At her answer, he seemed almost nervous. Though what for, I have not the faintest idea. "The incident that occured in which a witness, called by Prosecutor Payne, was found to have committed the crime in question, the latter proven by a Mr. Phoenix Wright."
"...Exactly." The young Prosecutor agreed after a pause, only slightly troubled by the fact. He seemed resigned. At what, I do not want to know. Is this what he wanted, to know whether I knew about this? "Prosecutor Payne was brought before a tribunal hearing, from what a Detective on the case told me this morning. I was hoping to catch you," He added, glancing toward her, "I thought you needed to be told immediately - the tribunal intends to terminate Payne for this mistake."
Lana refused to meet his dark eyes, staring straight ahead. From the corner of her eye, she saw Miles stare at her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether she was friendly or not. She said, "I did not know about the tribunal, nor their intentions. Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth. I will deal with it."
She passed him, and she noticed that he seemed rather sad. "I- " She hesitated, causing him to glance up in surprise, before adverting her gaze and hurrying into the building, climbing the stairs leading from the underground parking lot into the Prosecutor's Office, leaving the Prosecutor stunned in her wake.
:: -Grey Skyes- ::