Reasonable Doubt - Mon/Orson, courtroom drama & murder mystery AU
Honorable mention: Lio the GOAT Partagaz tw: crack treated unseriously, sarcasm overload, legal AU no one asked for Read on ao3
Orson leaned back in his white leather chair and imagined the upcoming spectacle in all its many-pixeled splendor: hundreds of holo-cameras and reporters camping outside his office, clamoring, shouting questions over one another, thrusting microphones toward him like fetish sticks to an ancient god. And there he would be: gorgeously, impeccably tailored, greeting her. His face would be on every screen in the world tomorrow. Moisture farmers in Tatooine, celestial power researched on Eadu, nerf herders in the Alderaanian highlands – all of them would know his name. It was, after all, the most high-profile case the nation had ever seen. No sitting Chancellor in the history of the Republic had ever been indicted for murdering a spouse. Mon Mothma, ever the overachiever, had managed to break both the highest glass ceiling in the land and her husband’s skull within a few short years - the latter, allegedly, with an antique Hana star plate she had once given him for their anniversary. Till death do us part, indeed. The HoloPress had already dubbed it the Death Star trial, and tomorrow there he would be, at the red hot center of it. He would issue a brief, noncommittal statement that this was merely a preliminary meeting. He would smile, thank the media for its interest – letting Heert channel their enthusiasm off the record - and usher her inside. How satisfying it would be, after all these years. And maybe, just maybe, to make his revenge perfect, he would deliberately lose this one. But so subtly that even Justice Yoda with his bow-tie brigade would shake his head and say that no one, really, could have won this case. Not even Orson Callan Krennic.
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