Dooku’s Booty: The Legality of Seizing Count Dooku’s Fortune

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January 10, 2023

We may only be a few days into the new year, but Star Wars has already gifted fans with fresh content, as Bad Batch returned for its sophomore season on January 4th. Star Wars legal geeks didn’t have to wait long for some prime galactic legal issues to surface–one was teed up right in the title of Episode 1: Spoils of War.

After narrowly surviving the Empire’s destruction of all cloning facilities on Kamino, the Bad Batch quickly found themselves back in action with a new mission from Cid–one that promised to bring in more riches than all their prior jobs combined. The mission: Infiltrate Serenno and steal some of the late Count Dooku’s vast fortune while the Empire was busy attempting to seize it for its own use.

Postwar Castle Serenno, home to the galaxy’s largest home furnishings liquidation sale!

The clones arrive on Serenno to find the ultimate estate sale in action, as the newly minted Galactic Empire was rapidly readying Dooku’s valuables to be taken off world. The scale of the seizure is massive, as multiple huge Class Four Container Transports were loaded for bear with mountains of shipping containers filled to the brim with money, jewels, and other treasures from Dooku’s palace.

Count Dooku, having recently had his head detached from his shoulders via lightsaber, wasn’t in any position to protest. However with the clone wars over, what does international law have to say about this sort of apparently brazen pilfering?

Saying that heads will roll for stealing Dooku’s treasure seems a bit uncouth under the circumstances.

Even though wars end, the laws governing them don’t suddenly cease to exist. The practice of battlefield theft and seizures have endured as long as humans have waged war, from pillaging Vikings to the Nazis’ rampant theft of cultural treasures. The notion of one side taking an enemy’s during or after a war might seem a little unfair, but the law doesn’t treat all wartime takings equally. Although theft is generally outlawed during conflict, there are many circumstances where one side is legally able to take spoils of war from an opponent after a conflict.

When it comes to taking property, International Humanitarian Law (IHL), also known as the law of armed conflict, draws a distinction between private and government property. On one hand, the forcible seizure of private property for personal use, also known as pillaging, is generally outlawed. On the other hand, taking enemy property is generally lawful–a concept known as “spoils of war.” This practice is condoned in IHL treaty law, as the Hague Regulations of 1907 allow an occupying army to take possession of a wide variety of movable property belonging to the occupied State. The legal ability to seize war booty is also recognized under Customary International Law, which is a subset of IHL stemming from long standing accepted international practices and carry the same binding legal effects as treaty law (e.g. Geneva Conventions).

We’re still awaiting news on the fate of the ultimate prize at Dooku’s castle: The Count’s Exquisite Pajamas

Given Serenno’s key role in the Clone Wars, the Empire’s mission to seize property there had a solid basis in law. Serenno was a key opponent of the Galactic Republic (and by extension the Empire) during the Clone Wars. Having been a core member of the Confederacy of Independent Systems (CIS) at the very heart of the war effort against the Republic, Serenno was a reasonable place for the Empire to look to seize war booty.

But Serenno’s status as a defeated Republic enemy doesn’t automatically mean the Empire could sweep in and take whatever it wanted after the war. The private property of Serennian citizens would be protected from pillage under IHL–a prohibition that would seemingly protect Count Dooku’s fortune. After all, the mere act of participating in a war doesn’t give the enemy a free pass to seize all your personal property outside of the battlefield.

However, Count Dooku was no ordinary citizen–his unique status and role in the war are key to how his property is classified. As the head of House Serenno, Dooku was the political ruler and head of state for the planet–a status that fueled his departure from the Jedi Order. Although Serenno had a planetary council and Galactic Senator, Dooku acted as ruling head of state, serving as the planetary emissary and acting as the planet’s decision-maker in all key areas, including its cessation from the Republic. He was also one of the military leaders of the Separatist war effort, taking a frequent direct role in hostilities. Castle Serenno was the seat of Dooku’s power on the planet and was the location from which he ran planetary affairs (including war efforts). This meant that Dooku’s fortress wasn’t simply a private residence. Based on the circumstances, the castle was effectively government property and thus was fair game for the Empire to search for war booty.

Dooku’s Force ghost watching his palace get lawfully ransacked by his old boss.

Even if Dooku is considered a private citizen, his deep participation in the war effort still renders at least some of his property as war booty. Under IHL, private property that has been used for hostile purposes can also be seized as spoils of war. Dooku was at the heart of the Separatist war effort, using his heavily fortified castle on Serenno as his base of operations. By intertwining his private property with his war involvement, his actions therefore exposed much of his own private property to seizure.

The Empire was also acting lawfully when it specifically targeted Dooku’s riches for seizure. While war booty is often thought of as items such as weapons or military vehicles, the term encompasses a far greater range of property, including non-military property like money. Under U.S. law, “spoils of war” are defined as “enemy movable property lawfully captured, seized, confiscated, or found…” This is a broad spanning definition that includes a wide range of items, including money. The Hague Regulations provide that an occupying army “…can only take possession of cash, funds, and realizable securities which are strictly the property of the State, depots of arms, means of transport, stores and supplies, and, generally, all movable property belonging to the State which may be used for military operations.” Additionally, under Customary International Law, a party to an armed conflict can seize moveable state property as war booty, including military equipment and even cash.

On Serenno, we see the Empire carrying out a wholesale seizure of Count Dooku’s fortune–piles of credits, jewels, artifacts, and more can be seen inside Imperial shipping containers. These items, particularly the currency, fall squarely within the IHL definition of spoils of war. This wealth was no doubt intertwined with Dooku’s governance of Serenno, including directly funding the Separatist war effort, which effectively rendered it state property eligible for seizure.

While the Empire’s seizure of Dooku’s booty was generally lawful, it would only be entitled to property that actually belonged to Dooku/Serenno. In the episode, we learn from a Serennian citizen named Romar that Dooku stole untold amounts of his fortune from the Serennian people. How much and what was stolen isn’t known, but stolen property is doubtlessly amongst the items being seized. The Empire has no legal claim to that stolen property, but then again Emperor Palpatine isn’t known for his strict adherence to the rule of law.

I’m sure Dooku would’ve just Venmo’d Palpatine some cash if he’d only asked.

As a group of rogue clones unaffiliated with the Empire, the Bad Batch on the other hand had no legal basis to take any of Dooku’s booty. The right to seize spoils of war rests with a party to the armed conflict, not individual citizens or even individual soldiers taking part in the war. In either case, the real lesson is that if you find yourself inheriting a vast galactic fortune, think twice before you leave the Jedi Order and start up a massive war you’re destined to lose–otherwise you might lose a lot more than you bargained for (including your head).

The Legal Status of Pizza Dog

By

Stephen Tollafield

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December 22, 2021

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Kate Bishop makes a death-defying rescue of a brave golden retriever in Episode 1 of Hawkeye. The two quickly bond and Pizza Dog/Lucky becomes the best good-boy superhero ever. But given that Pizza Dog is a stray, what ownership interest, if any, does Kate have in her new sidekick?

Generally, animals are regarded as the property of the owner, so lost animals may trigger property law duties and obligations for people who find the lost animal. As an initial observation, this property right in one’s domesticated pets has been around only since the late 1800s. Back then, dogs were regarded as “qualified” property given their limited utility to the owners when compared to livestock like cattle or horses. For example, in 1897, a U.S. Supreme Court case described dogs as having “no intrinsic value” and not useful “as beasts of burden, for draught, nor for food.” Sentell v. New Orleans & C.R. Co., 166 U.S. 698, 701 (1897). I think we can all agree that Pizza Dog has obvious intrinsic value, which calls into serious question the validity of this Supreme Court case authority.

In any event, modern law views dogs as property. So when a person finds and takes possession of lost chattels, the common law creates an implied bailment in the property. Therefore, as of Episode 1 of Hawkeye, Kate Bishop is a gratuitous bailee of Pizza Dog. This is a contractual agreement between Kate and Pizza Dog’s previous owner, and Kate now owes a duty to take reasonable care of Pizza Dog and, if possible, return him to his true owner. It’s questionable whether feeding a dog a bunch of cheese pizza is taking optimal care of him, but at least Kate has provided him with shelter and other basic necessities, including generous pats.

So when it comes to Kate’s property interest, the first question is whether Pizza Dog was lost or whether he counts as abandoned property. If Pizza Dog was abandoned, then the owner has relinquished their property rights and Kate now has title to him.

On the other hand, if he was merely lost or ran away, then Kate’s title is superior to everyone but the true owner. As in most jurisdictions, the remedy in New York to recover lost personal property or chattels from a wrongful possessor is a replevin action, Gates v. Bowers, 169 N.Y. 14, 61 N.E. 993 (1901), so if Pizza Dog is lost, Kate may have to relinquish him if sued for replevin.

But as with all equitable actions, the recovery would be subject to equitable defenses, including unclean hands or laches if the true owner unduly delays their efforts. And these equitable defenses may be of significance given that Kate and Pizza Dog rapidly form a strong emotional bond, and the harm of losing possession may outweigh the true owner’s interest in recovering him. Ultimately, I would argue that the scales of justice tip strongly in favor of preserving the superhuman and superdog connection, and Kate and Pizza Dog can hopefully look forward to a long, happy future of fighting bad guys together.

Betelgeuse Said “Ghost Rights!”: The Property Law of Haunted Houses

By

Gaby Schneider

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October 30, 2019

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It’s Halloween, and you know what that means: haunted houses! In fiction and myth, ghosts are frequently depicted haunting a specific location — commonly either the deceased person’s former dwelling or the place where they died. But can disembodied spirits ever assert a property interest in the places they haunt? Can the haunted house belong to the ghost?

Although there is not much case law on point, at least one state court has contemplated the potential existence of a poltergeist and its legal repercussions. In Stambovsky v. Ackley, 169 A.D.2d 254 (N.Y. App. Div. 1991), the New York Supreme Court, Appellate Division held that a homeowner who had publicly declared their house to be haunted was forbidden to change their story when they sold the house: “Whether the source of the spectral apparitions seen by defendant seller are parapsychic or psychogenic, having reported their presence in both a national publication (Readers’ Digest) and the local press (in 1977 and 1982, respectively), defendant is estopped to deny their existence and, as a matter of law, the house is haunted.” Stambovsky at 256.

So it is clear that a house can be legally haunted. But Stambovsky only addresses the responsibilities of a living owner. What about the possessory rights of the ghostly occupants in the houses that they haunt?

Case Study: Beetlejuice

The 1988 film Beetlejuice provides a perfect example of ghosts who object to the presence of new occupants in a house which they had owned during their lives. Early in the movie, a young couple, Barbara and Adam Maitland, discover that they have died and are now stuck haunting their house as ghosts. To their dismay, the house is soon sold and a new family, the Deetzes, moves in.

For the purposes of this analysis, let’s assume that the Maitlands owned their home with no restrictions (no mortgages, no joint-tenants, etc.) and they died intestate (with no will and no heirs). Under the normal mechanisms of estate law, their property would escheat to the government when they died. Assuming that the ghosts of Barbara and Adam maintain the same legal personhood after the deaths of their bodies, would Barbara and Adam retain their possessory rights upon their death?

As a matter of legal fiction, yes. Without a will assigning future possessory interests to potential heirs, the Maitlands retained a fee simple absolute interest in their home. This interest is the strongest type of present possessory interest: it entails outright and full ownership of property, including land and all immovable attached structures, for an indefinite amount of time. Fee simple absolute interests do not end with the owner’s death – they simply get transferred (by sale, will, or gift) to a determined successor. This means, as a matter of pure legal fiction, the Maitlands can own their home indefinitely, since their interest in their home is indefinite. The subsequent sale of their home to the Deetz family, done without the Maitlands’ permission, would be rendered invalid.

In practice, no. If the home had not yet been gifted or sold, transfer of a property interest in fee simple absolute would take place upon the owner’s death. Unless the Maitlands can prove that their continued ghostly existence does not constitute “death” within the meaning of Connecticut state law, the escheat of their property interest to the government and the later conveyance of that interest to the Deetzes would be valid, thus making the Deetzes the new “true” owners of the house.

Spooky Squatters: Adverse Possession By Ghosts

Assuming that they lose their possessory interest in their house when they die, the Maitlands could regain it through adverse possession. Adverse possession law varies by state, so for the purposes of this case study we will apply the state law of Connecticut, which is where the Maitlands’ house is located.

In Connecticut, the elements of adverse possession are actual, open, notorious, hostile, continuous and exclusive possession for 15 years. See Mulle v. McCauley, 927 A.2d 921, 925 (Conn. App. 2007).

Many hauntings are actually very straightforward examples of adverse possession.

To prove actual possession, the ghost must demonstrate that their possession of the house is more than constructive. See Edward G. Mascolo, A Primer on Adverse Possession, 66 Conn. B.J. 303, 311 (1992). It is not enough to have once lived in the house during their lifetime. The ghost must be physically occupying the house to establish actual possession.

To prove open and notorious possession, the ghost must perform “open acts of ownership” (Mulle at 930) that “put a person of ordinary prudence on notice of the fact” that the ghost is claiming the land as their own. Mascolo at 311-12. By making weird noises, lowering the temperature of a room drastically, opening and slamming doors, and appearing visibly before the living occupants of the house, the ghost has effectively made the living aware of the ghost’s claim on the house.

To prove hostile possession, the ghost must show that at no point during the 15 year possession did the ghost have the permission of the living owner to haunt the house. Alternatively, if the ghosts and the living owners are strangers, possession may be considered hostile if the haunting is both open and notorious. See Woodhouse v. McKee, 879 A.2d 486 (Conn. App. 2005).

To prove continuous possession, the ghosts must continue to haunt the house, without prolonged breaks, for a full fifteen years. An exorcism counts as the forced eviction of the ghost, thereby resetting the clock on the ghost’s continuous possession.

To prove exclusive possession, the ghost must act as if it has final say over who can enter or stay in the house. These actions must be so open and public that the ghost’s control over the house is assumed. See, e.g., Mascolo at 309; Roche v. Town of Fairfield, 442 A.2d 911, 917 (Conn. 1982). A haunting may be considered exclusive if the ghosts are able to scare living occupants into abandoning the house in question.

Applying these elements to the plot of Beetlejuice, we find that the Maitlands face several hurdles to a successful adverse possession claim. Unfortunately for the Maitlands, they fall short of exercising “exclusive” possession over the house. On the one hand, hiring Beteljeuse to help them scare away the Deetzes is consistent with exclusivity: he is present with the Maitlands’ permission, and for the purpose of helping them enforce their control over who can be in the house. He’s kind of like a supernatural exterminator, or perhaps a guard dog. However, all of the ghosts’ hijinx continually fail to scare the Deetzes into abandonment. Moreover, because their deaths are so recent, the Maitlands have not been haunting their house long enough to satisfy the 15 year requirement. There remains the potential that they could fulfill this requirement over time, considering how they are tied to the house for 125 years, but the mere expectation that they will be present in the house for that length of time is not enough on its own to satisfy the “continuous” requirement. Most damningly, the eventual agreement between the Maitlands and Deetzes to share the house negates the element of exclusivity. Once the ghosts have been given permission to haunt the house, their adverse possession claim is even deader than they are.

In Conclusion…

Because literal death triggers the transfer of property, either to heirs or to the state, there appears to be no way for ghosts to directly maintain ownership over their houses—unless courts could be convinced to adopt an alternative definition of “death” as the being the end of one’s conscious existence, as opposed to the mere demise of one’s corporeal form. The law of adverse possession, however, provides a potential avenue for ghosts to claim (or reclaim) a possessory interest through haunting. In Beetlejuice, an out-of-court settlement proves to be a happy ending for all involved. But at least in theory, a ghost that successfully met all the elements of adverse possession could get the full rights to their house back—if they haunted the house long enough.

Works Cited

George Coppolo, Adverse Possession, Connecticut General Assembly Office of Legislative Research (Jan. 19, 2006), https://www.cga.ct.gov/2006/rpt/2006-R-0032.htm.

Edward G. Mascolo, A Primer on Adverse Possession, 66 Conn. B.J. 303 (1992)

Mulle v. McCauley, 927 A.2d 921, 925 (Conn. App. 2007).

Roche v. Town of Fairfield, 442 A.2d 911, 917 (Conn. 1982)

Stambovsky v. Ackley, 169 A.D.2d 254 (N.Y. App. Div. 1991)

Woodhouse v. McKee, 879 A.2d 486 (Conn. App. 2005).

About the authors

Gaby, Hannah, Andrew, and Alex are all second-year law students at NYU School of Law. Collectively known as “The Gaang,” the four of us bonded over rewatching/finally finishing Avatar: the Last Airbender during our first year of law school. As proud members of both the geek and legal communities, we’re thrilled to have the chance to contribute to this esteemed publication!

Gaby Schneider

Gaby Schneider is 2021 graduate of NYU School of Law. A lifelong nerd and proud "fangirl", she started writing for the Legal Geeks during her first year of law school. At NYU, she was best known for her double-triple-threat contributions to the Law Revue (actor/singer/dancer and writer/producer/techie). Her real life legal experience includes class action litigation at Bursor & Fisher, P.A., as well as internships at the Knight First Amendment Institute and the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of California. Originally from the Bay Area, she lives in San Francisco, where she can often be found indulging her boba tea addiction under the guise of a nice stroll around the neighborhood.

Hannah Umansky-Castro

Hannah Umansky-Castro is a second year law student at NYU Law who is passionate about immigration, equal protection, law of democracy and administrative law issues. She wrote a college thesis that compared Lord of the Rings to Don Quixote, analyzing the modern quest for meaning within the epic novel framework. She is a major fan of Percy Jackson, Avatar the Last Airbender, Doctor Who and Supernatural.

Andrew Soboeiro

Andrew Soboeiro is a third-year law student at NYU, as well as an aspiring immigration lawyer, Portuguese speaker, and barbecue enthusiast! Before law school, Andrew attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where he wrote a thesis analyzing racial and ethnic stereotypes in Victorian English children's literature. He then taught English in Malaysia through the Fulbright Program. Andrew is a fan of Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Avatar/Korra, and The Good Place, to name just a few fandoms!

Alex Frey

Mr. Frey is a law student at NYU and connoisseur of popular culture.

What Mothra Can Teach Us About Property Rights

By

Josh Gilliland

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May 30, 2019

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Ownership is having the exclusive control over property. (See, Bouvier Law Dictionary – Ownership (Owner or Own). In the 1964 Ishirō Honda classic Mothra vs Godzilla, the issue of property ownership was a battle worthy of those Kaiju titans. The film opens with a typhoon washing Mothra’s egg on Infant Island out to sea. Fishermen off Kurada beach recovered the egg. The local villagers claimed the egg was theirs and sold it to Happy Enterprises, who planned to build an amusement park around the egg. Twin fairies known as Shobijin later tell the proprietor of Happy Enterprises the egg belongs to Mothra…who promptly ignored the Shobijin and attempted to buy them.

As a preliminary matter, the real monster in this movie is Happy Enterprises. The cruel entrepreneur missed the memo you can’t buy PEOPLE. The question remains, who is the rightful owner of the egg?

Mothra’s egg was originally on Infant Island. Lost property is property that an “owner no longer possesses because of accident, negligence, or carelessness, and that cannot be located by an ordinary, diligent search.” Black’s Law Dictionary iPad App. Property can be lost by an act of man, act of law, or act of God. (See, Bouvier Law Dictionary – Property, paragraph 9.) The storm washing the egg out to sea is an act of God that caused Mothra to be separated from her egg. Wild animals not in captivity or tamed become the property of those who take or kill it. Forestier v. Johnson 164 Cal. 24 (Cal. Oct. 1, 1912). The local fisherman who retrieved the egg from the sea have a colorable argument that they found a wild animal and claimed it as their own, just as they would from fishing. As such, there is a plausible argument that the sale was valid. However, that analysis is extremely shortsighted in a world with giant moths.

A person who finds lost property under circumstances which give them knowledge of who is the true owner, and they fail to make a reasonable attempt to find the owner, and takes the property as their own, is guilty of theft. Cal. Penal Code § 485. Moreover, if the property owner is unknown and the value of the property is over $100, the finder shall report the information to law enforcement. The report is to include how the property was saved; whether the owner is known; and the finder has not withheld any of the property. Law enforcement is to then notify the owner. Cal Civ Code § 2080.1.

The fishing village sold the egg to Happy Enterprises for 1,224,560 yen. The price was calculated on the cost of regular chicken eggs at 8 yen and that the egg totaled 153,820 chicken eggs. If the cost of a dozen large chicken eggs in Japan is 304 yen, or 25.3 yen per egg, then the modern valuation of the giant egg would be 3,896,773.33 yen or $34,478.77. Considering the potential property damage that could be caused by whatever comes out of a giant egg, this seems like a bad deal to incur liability.

Giant eggs require a giant mother. Taking into account this is a world with monsters that breathe atomic fire, anyone wanting to purchase a monster egg is extremely foolish. They are ignoring the fact that mom might come looking for her kid.

The Shobijin told Jiro Torahata and Kumayama of Happy Enterprises that egg belonged to them and Mothra was the mother. The reaction by Torahata and Kumayama was to capture the Shobijin and later attempt to buy them. Despite being warned that when the egg hatched, the larva would cause property damage looking for food, Happy Enterprises refused to return the egg.

Jiro Torahata and Kumayama created extreme risk for Happy Enterprises. The first is that Torahata and Kumayama refused to return the egg to the rightful owners after learning their identity. This is larceny, the taking of another’s person property. CA Pen. Code, sec. 484. The other is that keepers of wild animals on their property must ensure to their peril that the animals do no damage to others. Hyde v. Utica, 20 N.Y.S.2d 335, 337 (App. Div. 1940). As soon as the egg hatched, Happy Enterprises was strictly liable for any of the damage caused by the larva. It is a fair to say the damages would exceed 1,224,560 yen.

How to Sue the Kingpin for Breaching the Spider-Verse

By

Josh Gilliland

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December 28, 2018

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Go see Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse. The film is a testament to all Spider-Man comics and a complete joy. Major spoilers ahead true believers, so don’t read any further until you see the movie.

The Kingpin of Earth-1610 commissioned Dr. Olivia Octavius to build an inter-dimensional collider to find identical versions of his late wife and son. The experiments caused a breach into multiple different universes, allowing property from different realities to crash into the New York of Earth-1610. Multiple versions of Spider-Man and other web-slingers were also pulled into Earth-1610 against their will.

What are the possible causes of action against Wilson Fisk for his experiments?

The issue of property damage on Earth-1610 is the most lineal one to analyze (well, excluding what Kingpin did to Peter Parker of Earth-1610). New York case law examining property damage from intentional blasting has strict liability for property damage. Spano v. Perini Corp., 25 N.Y.2d 11, 17-18 (1969). Case law originally allowed a defendant to avoid liability if they could show they took reasonable care to avoid injury, however that view was rejected, because someone who engages in blasting should NOT be able to “to impose this risk upon nearby persons or property without assuming responsibility therefor.” Spano, at *18, rejecting Booth v. Rome, W. & O. T. R. Co., 140 N.Y. 267 (1893).

The inter-dimensional collider experiments were inherently dangerous activities, in the same category as blasting operations. As such, Wilson Fisk would be held liable for injuries caused to neighboring property with or without trespass. Cont’l Ins. Co. v. Great Lakes Dredge & Dock Co., 163 Misc. 2d 594, 595 (App. Term 1994). The only issue is how to prove damages were caused by the inter-dimensional collider experiments.

Plaintiffs would need to prove that “but for” the inter-dimensional collider experiments, their property sustained damage. This could include that prior to the time of the experiments, their property did not have any damages, and after the experiments their property was damaged. This could be from testimony, but cell phone photos, street camera footage, and other evidence to document property condition might be required to show the damage was caused by property from an alternate reality crashing into the subject property in the lawsuit

One possible complexity is that the alien property that caused the damage returned to its reality after the threat was neutralized, which would require plaintiffs to present evidence with photos or video of the damage. While it would be ideal to have actual footage or alternate realities crashing into damaged property, a court likely would not require that much proof given the extreme nature of the incident.

The harder question is for individuals on alternate Earths to sue Wilson Fisk for damage to their realities. There are substantial service of process and forum non conveniens issues in seeking relief for damage caused in mirror universes.

Belter Sovereignty and the Outer Planet Alliance’s Space Law Claim in The Expanse

By

Caesar Kalinowski IV

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June 11, 2018

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“We. Are. Belters. Nothing in the void is foreign to us! The place we go is the place we belong . . . WE ARE THE BELT! THIS MOMENT BELONGS TO US!”

In my last article on The Expanse, I examined how the Belters could establish their independence from Earth and the Martian Congressional Republic. In short, I argued that the Belters could meet the international requirements for independence because (1) the Belt meets certain practical requirements involving territory, population, and government, (2) the group could unilaterally declare its independence, and (3) although the Terran and Martian governments need not recognize the group’s sovereignty, they likely would because of the difficulty in fighting the Belt, the need for its resources, and the Belters’ possession of the protomolecule.

A few days after the article published, SyFy aired “Delta-V,” which debuted the newly independent government of the Outer Planets Alliance (“OPA”). I, for one, assume they read my article and decided to take my advice because they know that The Legal Geeks are at the cutting edge of sci-fi law. “Sure,” you might say, “but what about the fact that episodes and storylines take months or years to write and shoot?” Like I told my wife when she asked the same thing: “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.” Sadly, The Expanse jumped to a few months after the Belter independence movement and so we will never know for sure whether they took my advice.

Nothing like stealing a religious exploratory vehicle to turn it into your main battleship. Nice one OPA.

Outer Planets Alliance as a Nation

What we do know, however, is that the OPA is now a fully-functioning government. Jointly led by Anderson Dawes and Fred Johnson, the OPA established its Belter-staffed Free Navy and recovered the previously-commandeered Mormon ship, the Nauvoo. After retrofitting the Nauvoo as the solar system’s largest weapons platform battleship, the newly-christened OPAS Behemoth joins the inner planets’ naval forces to investigate “The Ring.”

The Ring, formed by the protomolecule, is an unknown object sitting just off of Uranus’s orbit. After the Belter “rock hopper” Néo slingshots through the Ring and into eternity (as well as Belter history books), the unknown alien object comes alive as a sort of wormhole. Eventually, the show’s main protagonists enter the Ring in the Rocinante, followed closely by an OPA torpedo and the Martian warship Xuesen. The Martians quickly send a probe back out of the Ring, telling Earth and the OPA to wait outside the wormhole in no uncertain terms. But the OPAS Behemoth’s captain Camina Drummer is having none of that. The Ring is in the Belt, she exclaims, and so the OPA owns the rights to explore and control it.

So is she right? Does the OPA have a claim on the Ring, for good or for bad? Assuming there have not been some massive changes to space law (which is a huge assumption considering space has now been colonized), my guess is that they do not have a legal claim on the Ring and they also cannot stop Earth and Mars from exploring it, but they can simply ignore space law and try anyway.

Outer Space Treaty

In 1967, the major space-faring nations signed the Outer Space Treaty (“OST”), which provides the basic legal framework for space travel and exploration. Currently signed by 130 nations, the OST specifically states that “[o]uter space, including the moon and other celestial bodies, is not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means.” See OST, Art. II. The OST also mandates that “[o]uter space . . . shall be free for exploration and use by all States . . ., and there shall be free access to all areas of celestial bodies,” see id. Art. I. Furthermore, “Parties to the Treaty shall carry on activities in the exploration and use of outer space, including the moon and other celestial bodies . . . in the interest of maintaining international peace and security and promoting international co- operation and understanding.” Id. Art. III. Effectively, space law currently is hinged on the concept of “the common heritage of mankind,” whereby any person can explore or exploit outer space resources.

Based on the OST, it seems, the OPA is out of luck. The Ring, although not a “celestial body” per se, is certainly an enormous object in outer space. Not unlike an asteroid, the protomolecule basis for the Ring suggests that it could move through space. So whether the Ring remains in Belter territory is yet to be established, potentially foreclosing a claim of right as the territorial sovereign of the “land.” But considering that the OPA encompasses more than just one planet or celestial body, the Belters could argue that anything less than total control over all celestial bodies and objects in the outer rings undermines its own sovereign rights as a state. See Brian Taylor Sumner, Territorial Disputes at the International Court of Justice, 53 Duke L.J. 1779 (2004) (“In international law and relations, ownership of territory is significant because sovereignty over land defines what constitutes a state.”).

Another possible route for the OPA to take control of the Ring is to assert and militarily defend its right. Although the OST specifically forbids assertions of sovereignty, that treaty only has force based on the consent of the States in existence. If the OPA declares itself owner of the Ring, backs that declaration with the OPAS Behemoth and its other ships, it could force Earth and Mars to respond or back down. See Leslie I. Tennen, Esq., Towards A New Regime for Exploitation of Outer Space Mineral Resources, 88 Neb. L. Rev. 794, 805 (2010) (“The mere recognition of claims by a state would constitute a de facto exclusion of other states and their nationals, and thereby constitute a form of national appropriation.”). Considering how well the OPA fared in establishing its independence, my guess is that they will be quick to pull the same card again.

“Rock hoppers” are Belters that sling shot around celestial bodies. Neo isn’t super smart, but he sure keeps the story moving…

Conclusion

Although current space law expressly forbids claims on celestial bodies by governments, the OPA could simply disregard “the common heritage of mankind” and claim the Ring for itself. Whether the new nation state could defend such a claim or whether the Ring stays in place, has yet to be seen. Given the Captain Drummer and the OPAS Behemoth’s crew’s fervor for Belter rights, my guess is that they will at least try.

Random Thoughts:

It doesn’t look like the Ring has any resources or purpose to speak of, save slowing down matter. Laying claim to the Ring itself then, seemingly only ensures the territorial bounds of the OPA’s area.
Josephus “Joe” Aloisius Miller’s transformation from a hardened, world-weary detective to a hardened, fourth realm Investigator is a real show stopper. But for real, Miller’s return is a great addition.
I can’t wait for the inevitable battleship chase in the Ring, which will be the slowest chase in The Expanse ever.
A big thanks to r/TheExpanse and Amazon for saving the show. Television needs more great sci-fi like The Expanse.

Those Beasts! Is the First Order Liable for Destroying Maz’s Castle?

By

Thomas Harper

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December 12, 2017

0

Maz Kanata’s fabled castle may have stood for a thousand years, but it didn’t last long when the First Order rolled into town with blasters cannons blazing. In the wake of the Battle of Takodana, we’re left to wonder whether Maz has any legal recourse against Kylo Ren and friends for the destruction they wrought?

Maz’s rules: 1) No fighting. 2) No reducing the castle to rubble.

Injuries and damage or loss of property are often unavoidable during real world overseas operations. The United States has an extensive framework of legal mechanisms by which local residents, allied forces, and host nation governments can make claims to be repaid for their losses. However, only certain U.S. laws allow for claims arising overseas.

For our purposes, we’ll assume Supreme Leader Snoke is somehow really interested in the rule of law and has therefore adopted a similar legal framework for the First Order. Since First Order forces were operating on Takodana, rather than their home “planet,” Starkiller Base, Maz would have to look to the set of claims laws that apply galaxy-wide. The big three claims acts that apply worldwide are the Personnel Claims Act (31 U.S.C. § 3721), the Military Claims Act (10 U.S.C. § 2733), and the Foreign Claims Act (10 U.S.C. § 2734).

The Personnel Claims Act (PCA) is limited to claims for loss and damage of military personnel and Department of Defense civilian employee property. Since Maz isn’t a First Order stormtrooper (wouldn’t that be an amazing little set of armor, though?) or other employee, she can’t file a claim for loss of the castle under the PCA. Similarly, the Military Claims Act (MCA) is limited to claims by U.S. citizens only. Maz doesn’t exactly seem to be a card-carrying First Order citizen, so the MCA would also offer her no help.

The Foreign Claims Act (FCA) is probably the most widely used statue by deployed U.S. forces. Not only does the FCA apply worldwide, but it also allows claims by foreign citizens for property loss or damage caused by U.S. military personnel. So far, the FCA is looking pretty good for Maz. Unfortunately, while the FCA allows for claims based on damage or loss caused by negligent or wrongful acts, the claim must result from noncombat activities. Maz’s prized watering hole was leveled as Resistance and First Order forces slugged it out in combat, which means she could not recover under the FCA.

Not paying Maz for the damage to her castle is a quick way to make her boyfriend pull your arms out of their sockets.

The bar on combat-related claims can be a major impediment in many real world military operations, especially when trying to gain and maintain the support of the local population. Despite the bar, the U.S. has allowed claims for combat damage in various conflicts. For example, following Operation Urgent Fury in Grenada, the United States created a special program to pay for combat-related injury and property damage. Similarly, after Operation Just Cause, the U.S. provided Panama with a broad set of recovery funds, which included money for combat-related claims.

In the Star Wars universe, the First Order must deal with the same sort of concerns that prompted the U.S. to make exceptions to the normal bar of combat-related claims. The Galactic Empire fell because their military might meant little without the broad support of the people. The Empire’s repeated decision to leave worlds in ruin after their operations was a big reason their support eroded so quickly. If the First Order wants to avoid falling into the same trap as their predecessors, they have to do more than just look really cool and win each battle. That means not leaving a trail of wreckage and devastation across the galaxy.

From that standpoint, it would be a smart move for the First Order to make an exception to the general rule barring combat-related claims and repay Maz for her losses. Her castle was one of the most prominent and long-standing gathering spots in the galaxy. Maz’s policy of welcoming all comers also made her a popular figure with all walks of life. Leaving her empty-handed amongst the debris would inevitably sow a tremendous amount of ill will towards the First Order. For an organization trying to govern the galaxy, that’s not exactly getting off on the right foot (neither is obliterating the Republic’s capital planet, but oh well).

The First Order is really crushing it at the public relations game.

However, Supreme Leader Snoke doesn’t exactly strike me as the generous type, which means the First Order may not want to grant a blanket exception to the bar against combat-related claims. Given the First Order’s rapidly expanding combat operations, such a move could prove extremely costly.

As an alternative, the First Order might instead empower its local commanders to pay out battle damage claims under certain circumstances. During Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan, the U.S. implemented a program known as the Commander’s Emergency Response Program, or CERP. The program was designed as a tool for local commanders to respond to small-scale, urgent humanitarian relief and reconstruction projects to assist the indigenous population. Commanders can also use CERP funds to repair collateral damage caused by combat operations. Despite its limits, the program has become an invaluable tool for commanders to achieve their missions through maintaining popular support.

The First Order would be wise to adopt a program similar to CERP and help rebuild her castle. Although rebuilding the castle is not a small-scale or low cost job, the First Order could use a CERP-like program to at least help start the rebuilding project. Since the program is decentralized, First Order commanders would have discretion on how the funds are used in their theater of operations, ensuring that credits are spent on projects that are actually necessary.

If the First Order wants to succeed where the Empire failed, it has to do more than freak people out with planet-sized lasers. While the First Order would not be liable for destroying Maz’s castle in combat, it would be a shortsighted move to leave it in ruins. After all, if Supreme Leader Snoke can afford gigantic new star destroyers and fancy golden robes, he can crack open his wallet to pay for some cinder blocks and masonry work for poor Maz Kanata.