(A/N: For those of you who have just joined, this technically isn't my first fanfic. It's just that I deleted the rest out of disgust because they were bad. And yes, this story probably won't make sense to a lot of people. I'll try to explain the parts most AA fans won't get as best as I can. Good thing I've got the appropriate codexes. Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, I'll try to get more details in as time goes by.)

Apollo Justice walked into Wright Anything Co. As per usual, it was a big mess, pretty much everything being haphazardly put about, with most of the office devoted to Trucy's magic tricks. A cabinet held both Trucy's magic books, and Wright's law books (the latter of which was very dusty due to a lack of use). His brown hair was put mostly smooth except for his two spikes. Looking in a mirror, he thought to himself, Perhaps I used a bit too much hair gel today…

"Hey, Polly!" Trucy Wright yelled, apparently having been waiting for him. She was decked out in her usual attire, an overly extravagant magician's outfit, complete with a cape and top hat. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

Apollo twisted his neck a bit, having had a rough sleep the night before. "Yeah, I know," he replied. "Was up late last night. Had some problems sleeping again."

Trucy looked at Apollo funny. "That so? Well, don't worry, I'm here to help!"

Apollo sighed. The technicality was that Trucy was the CEO of Wright Anything Co, so he was technically her subordinate. Of course, this was mostly because Phoenix Wright was off playing piano for some people (and he was always bad, by his own admission). "So," Apollo asked, "Any new cases come in?"

Trucy shook her head, looking disappointed. "Nope. Real shame, I love to work on these cases with you!"

Apollo nodded. "About as fun as murders usually get. This is to say, not a lot."

The door to the office opened, and a man entered. He didn't wear anything particularly notable, just a black business suit and red tie. His black hair was neatly combed, and he looked like he was ready for anything. His face, however, was looking a bit nervous about something. "This Wright Anything Co?" the man asked, his voice sounding a bit like he was from New York, but otherwise not notable.

"Yeah!" Trucy replied, apparently excited at seeing a new customer. "What do you need?"

"Some help. I know you guys do law, and a friend of mine is in a bit of a legal jam," the man replied.

Apollo looked at the man, trying to determine what's going on, but his bracelet wasn't sensing anything unusual. "What kind of jam?" he asked.

"He's been accused of murder. The guy may be violent and crude, but he doesn't go around murdering people, especially not in the way he told me."

"Care to tell us who this guy is?" Apollo asked, a bit tense. Because I certainly don't want to work with a guy who would hit me for screwing up…

The man chuckled. "He's very noticeable, trust me. Just ask for the guy with the overdone accent and the violent tendencies…" the man paused for a moment, and then realized something, digging out a paperback book from a suitcase. "Here, you'll need this."

The book's title had the title of Warhammer 40,000, and underneath that it said, "Orks". The picture on the book showed a lot of green-skinned humanoids with crude armor and a lot of spikes apparently attacking something off-panel. The biggest one held what looked like an axe, caked in blood, with a black and white checker picture. Just next to him was another guy, smaller, but wielding some kind of machine gun. The background was swamped with various greenskins. The lower-left corner had a smaller version of the Warhammer 40,000 title, and underneath it said, "Codex".

The man handed it to Apollo, who promptly asked, "Why do we need this?"

"You'll find out. Just trust me, don't lose that," the man replied.

Apollo nodded and started skimming the various pages. About the first quarter of the book's pages described the "Orks", with their habits, physiology, and various other tidbits. The next quarter detailed each kind of Ork unit, with a statline for each one. Almost all of the units (save a select few) had a BS of "2", and a WS of "4" or higher.

"What does BS and WS mean?" Apollo asked.

"Ballistic skill and Weapon skill, their abilities at ranged and melee, respectively. For a point of reference, an average trained soldier has both set at 3. 2 you can only get if you don't aim, which is what Orks do. They think that spraying automatic fire in all directions is more dangerous than aiming. It's rather amusing, their thought processes."

"Why do we need a book for a game? I doubt that this will come in handy."

"Trust me, you'll find out. Just drop by the detention center, and ask for the overly violent man with an overdone accent. You can't miss him."

Apollo nodded. "Well, thanks, I guess. I'll try to get your friend an acquittal." Apollo decided to add to himself, Because if this book is actually going to help, and if what that guy said is true, I'm in for a rude awakening when I get there…

The man grinned. "Thanks. I really hate it when my friend gets himself into trouble, but often times it's amusing. This time, not so much. If you need clarification on a few things, I'll be glad to help you out. But I think it's best that you met the client first."

Trucy grinned widely. "I'm sure it won't be that bad, right Polly?"

Apollo couldn't help but force a grin. "Yeah…sure…we'll do what we can…"

"You'd better," The man replied, his gaze lowering. "I doubt my friend will take kindly to a screw-up. Like I said, he's a bit violent. If you screw up and he gets himself out, I'm pretty sure he'll pay you a little visit. And I doubt that you want that."

Apollo gulped. "Right…I'm sure I don't…well…come on Trucy, let's get to the Detention Center…"