by S. H. Jucha
“Where is the commander now?” Alex asked.
A second trooper replied, “Commander Cohen is with the captain. He refused to leave her side … and —”
“And what?” Alex demanded.
“The commander is angry,” the trooper replied.
“As he should be,” Renée declared.
“No, Ser,” the first trooper added. “The commander’s anger is dangerous.”
“Oh,” Renée replied, looking at Alex.
“Have we located these three reprobates, and why are there so many troopers here?” Alex asked, looking around the front room of the clinic.
“We didn’t need to locate them, Mr. President,” a third trooper explained. “When we arrived, all three assailants were unconscious. Apparently, Commander Cohen caught them in the act. We carried them here to the clinic. Other medical personnel are presently working on them.”
“Initial reports are that the three men suffered extensive damage,” another trooper explained. “We’re standing by in case Commander Cohen discovers the captain’s attackers are here in the clinic … within easy reach, so to speak.”
“Ah … understood … maintain your posts until I give you the all clear,” Alex ordered, realizing the amount of damage an upset New Terran seeking revenge might deliver to injured men. “By the way, has the station director, Ser Fowler, been notified?”
“Immediately upon our arrival at the scene, Ser,” a trooper replied then ducked his head.
“Immediately? Why?” Alex asked, noting many of the troopers seemed reticent to reply.
“One of the assailants is Vic Lambert,” a trooper mumbled.
“No!” Renée exclaimed, clenching her fists in frustration. “After all the generosity extended to him and his people … he does this?”
Alex crossed to a far wall to sit and wait, his mood somber and dejected, and, after a few moments, Renée calmed down and sat beside him.
Hours later, with Alex and Renée having fallen asleep while waiting, a tired Terese poked Alex’s foot with her toe.
“The captain will make it,” Terese said when she had Alex’s attention. “I don’t believe I’ve ever worked on a person with that much damage. She received four doses of cell-gen injections.”
“Not medical nanites?” Renée asked.
“Not fast-enough acting in the time we had. On the other hand, the cell-gen nanites were healing bones in the wrong positions. Several times, we had to realign them.”
Alex and Renée winced at the medical euphemism. That the captain’s bone structures were so damaged that the nanites reformed the bones improperly, forcing Terese to break them and realign them, told Alex and Renée how fully Terese was consumed with saving the captain’s life — critical organs first — bones second.
“With food and two days’ rest, the captain will be semi-mobile again. Some of the organ and skull damage will require six or seven days to completely heal. It was fortunate the commander was on scene. He preserved the eye for reinsertion.”
“Her eye?” Renée asked, shuddering.
“Apologies, Ser, I thought you knew. The captain suffered severe damage to her head, most likely from an extensive number of strikes from the attackers’ boots.”
Terese, observing the blood vessels distending in Alex’s neck and his fists balling, suddenly found a reason to be elsewhere.
Alex stood up and commed the twins. <Étienne, Alain, I need you to ensure the captain’s assailants are kept safe. It will be crucial for this station to see they receive a fair judiciary hearing.>
* * *
Three days after Shimada’s attack, the captain’s three assailants stood before the station’s judicial review board.
Captain Shimada was present with the help of the Harakens. Techs affixed a nanites-embedded chair on top of a grav-pallet. When Franz introduced it to Reiko with a sweep of his hand, she was horrified. “I’m not going to be seen hauled to the review board like a piece of cargo.”
“Understood, Captain. That leaves us two choices. First choice, we delay the trial until you can walk under your own power, approved by Terese, of course. Second choice, I can carry you … which, by the way, is my personal preference.”
“I don’t doubt it is, Commander,” Reiko shot back. She felt humiliated, traveling to the hearing on a pallet, even if it was Haraken technology and floating above the deck. On the other hand, she wanted the trial over with quickly. Then again, just ever so briefly, she considered riding in the arms of the huge Haraken, who had rarely left her side during the past two days. The medical technicians, while discussing her injuries and repair progress, included the details of the commander wreaking havoc on her attackers, calling for medical support, and even recovering her eye. Reiko was not medically trained, but any idiot could understand a person would have been dead without Haraken medical technology.
“I’ll take the pallet,” Reiko finally said. She was extremely sore and tired easily, and it required two female medical techs to ease her into her dress uniform. She struggled to stand up from the bed, and then in a sure and easy motion she was in Franz’s arms.
“I get my wish, anyway, even if just for a short while,” Franz said, settling Reiko into the nanites chair.
When a Haraken medical tech drove the pallet out of the medical center, Reiko was shocked to see a phalanx of Haraken and UE militia surround her. They were in full uniform and marched in step.
“The president?” Reiko asked Franz, who walked beside her chair.
“Most assuredly, Captain. I believe if the man could have found a means of transporting you to the trial in a traveler, he would have done so.”
Reiko started to laugh, but her newly formed ribs couldn’t handle the pressure and she coughed lightly. It brought her entire retinue to a halt. “I’m fine, people,” Reiko managed to say. “Let’s keep this parade moving.”
Once in motion again, Reiko waved a hand loosely at her escorts and asked Franz, “So what’s the president’s point?”
“It’s a personal message to the station, Captain. You would have to ask him for the translation.”
In the militia’s admin area, a room was set aside for the review board meetings. Normally, few attended these hearings. This morning, the room was packed with an assortment of station inhabitants, including many rebels.
The judges met briefly before the hearing of the captain’s attackers, the only individuals to be tried today. Nikki Fowler recused herself as the presiding judge, and, by unanimous agreement, Desmond Lambros was selected to preside over the trial. In this circumstance, unanimous meant the four other judges elected Desmond — no one asked the businessman for his opinion.
When Desmond brought the court to order, he requested the charges be read, which Tatia stood to oblige. Before she could proceed, Reiko raised a hand to be noticed and called out, “Judge Lambros.”
“Yes, Captain Shimada,” Desmond said.
“As the victim in these circumstances, I want it known that I’m not pressing charges against these men. Enough damage has been done between my people and Mr. Lambert’s people.”
Murmurs volleyed around the courtroom, and Desmond called for order.
“I was about ready to read that part, Captain,” Tatia replied. “You haven’t pressed charges, but President Racine has.”
“These men are guilty of my attack, and I know you will find them so, but I ask the court for leniency. I would ask President Racine for leniency,” Reiko said, looking across the room where Alex sat.
Desmond was about to reply, but Tatia put a hand on his arm to still him.
Alex stood up and addressed the judiciary panel. “I must admit that I’ve been torn between marching these men to the nearest airlock and sending them to a belter’s mine.” His comment brought ugly noises from the rebels in the room. A lifetime in the asteroid belt mines was the de facto judgment handed down by the militia to any rebels they caught. “But I’m in awe of the captain’s courage that she could forgive
her attackers and ask for leniency. I withdraw my request for a maximum punishment and leave it to the court to decide.”
Vic craned his head around and caught Reiko’s eyes. His confusion was obvious. If he had a few more moments for the attack, he would have finished crushing the captain’s head as he intended. Instead, the giant commander bounced him off a bulkhead and, for good measure, drove a fist into his chest as he fell back toward the Haraken. The pain of so many ribs shattering still frightened him.
“The details of this case are obviously conclusive,” Desmond announced. “Video recordings obtained from Commander Cohen as he arrived on scene, confirm these three men are guilty of the attempted murder of Captain Shimada. Do the prisoners have anything to say before sentence is decided?”
Neither Vic nor his cohorts had a word to say to the panel. They had expected to complete their attack and disappear into the inner ring. With the captain dead and no cam evidence of the attack, they figured they would be safe. What they didn’t know was that the Harakens would have eventually caught them — medical evidence and a relentless drive for justice notwithstanding.
The judges put their heads together for a moment. To the rebels in the courtroom, it appeared their ex-leader, Nikki, was arguing with the other judges, but finally, an agreement was reached.
“I have been asked by the panel to deliver the judgment,” Nikki said, staring hard at Vic. “It’s the judgment of this court that the three of you are to be shipped inward by working passage on the next freighter headed for Earth. You will receive no pay for your work aboard ship; you will be given 1,000 credits on a reader; and any other funds you’ve earned will be confiscated for the station’s general accounts.”
The faces of the convicted men reflected various reactions, since each of their accounts had amassed over 18K credits.
“Finally, no record of your conviction will be communicated to authorities, and your status on Earth will be as miners returning inward,” Nikki added.
A raucous celebration issued from the rebels in the courtroom, and the militia and the shop owners displayed shocked expressions. Desmond called for order, and Haraken troopers set eyes on the most boisterous, which delivered the silence the presiding judge expected.
“It must be said that I heartedly disagreed with the court’s judgment, but I was outvoted,” Nikki continued. “I was a proponent of President Racine’s first suggestion of an airlock to nowhere.” Nikki bored into Vic’s eyes, until he dropped his head. “Captain Shimada was stationed at Idona less than a year ago. Neither she nor her crew created any trouble for us, the rebels, when they visited this station. Vic, she was innocent of harm to our people,” Nikki cried out, and Vic could only glance briefly at the burning anger in Nikki’s eyes before he ducked his head again. “And worse, the three of you attacked a woman, a small woman at that, and tried to beat her to death. What were the generations of our fight about if in the end we act like those who persecuted us?”
Nikki looked around the room, locking eyes with rebels she knew still harbored deep anger against UE forces. “Don’t you people get it?” she declared hotly. “If we want a better life for us and for our children, we have to be the better people. The Harakens have given us a chance to discover how to live together without hate, and some of you want to throw it away for misguided revenge.” Nikki took a breath and let it out slowly. “And like any senseless act of revenge, the three of you couldn’t even pick a deserving target. I could have wished Commander Cohen had finished the job on the three of you rather than face you today. Take the convicted men to their cells to await transport. Court dismissed.”
The three men were led away amid a now silent courtroom. Nikki’s statements had provoked a great deal of thought. The rebels, who were ecstatic at the light sentence, realized their ex-leader was the one who argued for the harsher sentence, but Captain Shimada’s plea for mercy carried the day. For others, it had been a drama laying bare the underlying feelings that many had to work through if the station would continue to function once the Harakens were gone.
-16-
A week after the rebels’ conviction, a fully recovered Shimada gave up one of her patrol craft for the president’s demonstration to Admiral Portland. The captain of the patrol ship wasn’t pleased by Shimada’s order to dedicate his ship to some bizarre demonstration, but he insisted on commanding it to the required destination point. The copilot and bosun volunteered to join him, and the three men were startled when Captain Shimada wanted to affirm they were EVA certified.
A small group of Haraken ships exited the station to join the UE patrol craft and head inward toward the approaching fleet, still more than two days out.
Captain Shimada had shared with Tatia an indication of the battleship’s telemetry quality, which gave the Haraken admiral an idea of how close to the fleet the demonstration must take place for Admiral Portland to understand what he was observing.
“An invigorating day, is it not?” Captain José Cordova announced to his guests, Ellie Thompson, Mickey, and Z, on the bridge of the Rêveur, the Méridien liner where Julien used to reside for the better part of two centuries. Tatia intended to ask Alex if he was going to request the elderly captain excuse himself from the upcoming mission, but then reconsidered. Foolish question, she thought.
Once the Rêveur, the accompanying squadron of travelers, and the UE patrol ship were headed inward, Julien used the station’s comms systems to contact Admiral Portland aboard the battleship Guardian.
“Captain, Idona Station is calling,” the comms officer of the Guardian announced.
Captain Shelley glanced at Admiral Portland, who nodded his assent, but before the comms officer could transfer the signal, the battleship’s primary screen lit with a view of an enormous man, surrounded by a collection of both wide and slender people.
“This is Admiral Portland of the battleship Guardian. Whom am I addressing?”
“Greetings, Admiral. I’m Alex Racine, Haraken’s president, and we know well who you are. Your poor reputation precedes you. I’m forbidding you to come any closer to Idona. In fact, I advise you to reverse course to Saturn. I believe your superiors, who I’ve recently spoken with, wish to have a word or two with you, Admiral. It seems your little foray toward our station is unauthorized.”
“Let me point out to you, President Racine, that Idona Station is UE property. Now, I will give you one opportunity to vacate the station and exit our system, before I demonstrate the might of a UE fleet.”
“I thought that might be your attitude, Admiral. I suggest you bring your fleet to a halt. A small group of my ships is headed your way from Idona. We’ve prepared a minor demonstration of Haraken technology for you. Do not allow your ships to come within 300K kilometers of this demonstration unless you want to lose them. Watch carefully, Admiral. It’s my sincere hope that you are a more intelligent man than your superiors have indicated.” Alex cut the comm.
* * *
Aboard the Rêveur, Mickey and his engineers loaded Ellie’s Dagger with missiles armed with Z’s latest invention, nanites minelettes. Harakens might be forgiven, thinking it was odd that a wing commander was flying the mission, but few of the planet’s pilots were trained on the original New Terran Dagger, which Ellie learned on before escaping Libre.
Mickey signaled Ellie when all was ready, and the flight chief and crew helped load her into Dagger-1’s cockpit. The bay was depressurized, and everyone aboard the liner awaited the mission’s go signal. When the Rêveur reached its target point, Z signaled Ellie and the flight crew to launch the Dagger. Simultaneously, the UE patrol ship eased away from the shadow of the liner as both ships came to a halt.
Z signaled the patrol ship. “Captain, prepare your men to abandon ship.”
“Seems a stupid idea to abandon a perfectly good vessel,” the captain grumped.
“Captain,” Z repeated.
“We’re going, we’re going.”
The captain, second lieutenant, and bosun climbed i
nto their EVA suits and cycled through the ship’s small airlock, which barely accommodated the three men in their suits. The fourteen-year veteran bosun kept his eye on the junior lieutenant, who admitted that his spacewalk experience was limited to academy training. Tethered together, the three UE men eased out of the airlock. Once clear of the ship, they activated their suit jets, and the captain led his men toward the lights of the Rêveur’s open bay.
Gaining the bay, the UE men were drawn down to the bay’s grav-activated deck. When the bay doors closed, pressurization quickly followed. The three UE men were debating whether to strip off their suits when the bay’s airlock hissed open and three huge men came hurrying toward them. The young lieutenant went so far as to put up his hands in surrender.
“Welcome aboard the Rêveur, Sers, you may call me Mickey. Come, let us help you out of these suits and get to the bridge.”
The patrol ship captain was surprised by the invitation. He expected to sit out the mission in some dim room, isolated and unable to inspect the Haraken ship. Instead, he and his men were escorted to the bridge, able to admire the corridors’ clean lines and spacious width along the way.
On the bridge, the UE men were introduced to the Harakens. Isolated aboard their destroyer from before the Harakens took over Idona, this was their first view of the strangers’ mix of body types — ultra-large, near Earth normal, and super slender.
“Why are there so many human types in your worlds?” the captain asked.
“There are only two types,” replied Z, “Mickey’s and Captain Cordova’s.
“You’re not a Haraken?” the bosun asked.
“I’m not human,” Z replied. “I’m a SADE.”
At that moment, Captain Cordova activated the holo-vid, displaying the nearby space, and the bridge’s central screen, which showed Dagger-1 beside the liner.
“Where’s our ship?” the lieutenant asked, staring into the holo-vid.
“We’re 105K kilometers from your ship, Sers,” Z stated.