"He is a fool and an idiot!"
"I know that as well as you do. Everyone else doesn't. To them, he's a ship's captain who was depending upon his crew for the best possible support. We need to ensure people know that we gave him the best possible support, despite what we know to be Wakeman's many and manifest failures as a commanding officer. They won't believe we gave him good support if we're openly contemptuous of the man."
Meadows stared down at the deck as if unable to think of a rebuttal. "Okay. You're right. No sense in the rest of us sinking any deeper into this than we have to."
Sindh looked straight at Paul. "What could be the outcome of this investigation? Can you guess?"
"Sure I can guess. It's serious. A JAG-level investigation means the result could be a recommendation for a court-martial."
"A court-martial, or multiple court-martials?"
"Possibly multiple ones. Yeah. Or maybe letters of reprimand. Or maybe nothing. It all depends."
Carl looked up again. "There's SASAL representatives on the station. They've been invited up as observers."
"How'd you find that out?"
"I know somebody who's involved with the care and feeding of them. They gave me a heads-up."
"Observers." Sindh ran the word around her mouth as if she didn't like the taste. "What will they be observing? Surely not the delivery of a letter of reprimand."
Paul shook his head. "The JAG-level investigation hasn't even been completed. How could they have already brought up a SASAL delegation to observe a court-martial when the investigation hasn't made any recommendations yet?"
"How? Sometimes, Paul, the results of investigations are foreordained. Not officially. Oh, no, never that. But it's understood. There's reports of a major oil discovery in SASAL territory. SASAL possession of such a resource makes them important friends for the U.S. to have. The South Asian Alliance would not regard a pro forma wrist-slap or exoneration of Captain Wakeman as a friendly act."
"Even though their ship all but invited it? But the system isn't supposed to work that way."
"Paul, you've been in the Navy for a while now. How many systems work as they are advertised?"
Paul stared back at Lieutenant Sindh. Like Carl before him, he couldn't think of anything to say.
* * *
The next few days were an odd mix of routine and suppressed tension. Paul began seriously considering the temporary use of some of Tweed's hiding places as Commander Garcia became more incendiary than usual. Wakeman spent almost every hour of every day in his own cabin, rarely venturing out and then not speaking to anyone. The junior officers began referring to Wakeman as the Neutron Captain, since he passed through groups without interacting in any way. Paul found himself checking not only the calendar but also the clock, wondering how long it would take for a high-priority investigation to produce recommendations, and how long it would be before those recommendations were acted upon. If someone had really decided on the results beforehand, it might not take long at all.
"All officers assemble in the wardroom."
Paul responded as quickly as he could, finding the small space packed with most of the rest of the other officers already. "Hey, Carl. Where's the department heads?"
"Somebody told me Herdez already called them in separately."
"That doesn't sound good." Paul looked up with surprise as Jen Shen squeezed into the wardroom. "Jen, aren't you on watch?"
"Yeah. Senior Chief Kowalski relieved me for a few minutes. He said the XO wanted every officer here."
Lieutenant Sindh, taking up station near the entrance, craned her head in an attempt to tally everyone's presence. "Ensign Shen. Are you here, yet?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Sinclair? Bristol? Okay, I see you both. Alright, that's everyone. Hold on." Sindh vanished for a few moments, then reappeared. "Attention on deck."
The officers straightened into the best semblance of attention they could manage while crowded so close. Paul eyed the hatch curiously. The attention on deck command was reserved on a ship for the captain or any visiting senior officer, and there weren't any visiting seniors present at the moment. Wakeman's coming out at last? What's he got to say to us?
But instead of Wakeman, Commander Herdez entered. "At ease." Her face a professional mask, Herdez surveyed the other officers for a long moment. "We have been notified by Commander, United States Naval Space Forces that Captain Wakeman has been relieved of command of the USS Michaelson effective immediately. I am to serve as acting commanding officer until Captain Wakeman's relief arrives. I expect you all to continue to exercise your duties to the best of your abilities and to ensure your personnel do the same."
"XO?" Lieutenant Sindh spoke in a subdued voice. "What's happening to the captain?"
Herdez didn't register any emotion as she replied. "Captain Wakeman is being referred to a court-martial which is to be constituted by order of Commander in Chief, U.S. Space Forces. At this time, I do not know the exact nature of the charges."
"Only him?" Carl Meadows blurted, then reddened as Herdez eyed him. "I'm sorry, ma'am. But, Captain Wakeman's the only one being charged?"
"That's correct. I expect we will be notified as to which officers and enlisted will be required to function as witnesses at the court-martial. Until such time, we still have a ship to run. Are there any further questions?"
Kris Denaldo raised one hand tentatively. "Ma'am? If we see Captain Wakeman, what do we . . . um . . ."
"If you encounter Captain Wakeman, you will render him the military courtesies appropriate to an officer of his rank. He is no longer commanding officer of the Michaelson, however, and no longer entitled to anything that position entailed."
"Thank you, ma'am."
Herdez nodded to the group, then left. "Attention on deck," Sindh called out, quickly followed by "At ease" after Herdez had cleared the hatch. "Okay, boys and girls. Now we know. Let's get back to work."
Carl looked over at Paul. "I always imagined I'd be cheering the day Cap'n Pete Wakeman left this ship. Why don't I feel like cheering?"
"I don't know. Neither do I. He's getting what he deserves. Right?"
"I think so. You don't sound so certain."
"How could I not be certain?"
Carl shrugged. "I don't know. Hey, do you know where Jan Tweed is?"
Paul didn't try to disguise his automatic flinch at the question. "No. Now what?"
"Relax. Her orders came through. I just want to make sure she knows."
"That's great. If I see her I'll let her know."
"Thanks. Now I have to run down Sam Yarrow."
"Did he get orders, too?"
Carl smiled at Paul's hopeful expression. "No. Promotion list came through. Yarrow made JG."
"Whoopee." Popular belief was that the average officer would be promoted from ensign to lieutenant junior grade as long as he or she could hear thunder and see lightning. But the promotion still meant a great deal as an escape from the ghetto of being an ensign. "That means we'll get a new bull ensign, right?" Yarrow's reign as the most senior of the ensigns had been notable not for his support of his juniors but rather for their distrust of him. Now that he'd been promoted, some other ensign would be designated the bull. "Who's next in seniority?"
"Jen Shen."
"Jen? We'll have a female bull? She'll be great at the job, but isn't that sort of an oxymoron?"
"Are you going to tell Jen she's an oxymoron?"
"Hell, no. I value my life too much to do that."
"You're learning, Paul. Maybe you'll make JG, too, someday."
"Thanks." Paul followed Carl out, then hesitated in the passageway, unable to decide his next action.
Over the ship's all-hands circuit he heard two quick bongs of the ship's bell, followed by two more, then the announcement, "Michaelson, departing." The captain of the ship was referred to by the ship's name when he or she arrived or departed onboard, a tradition going back who knew how long. A few minutes ago he would have known
the person leaving the ship was Wakeman. Now he knew it was Herdez, doubtless reporting in person to higher authority. Odd, how quickly a universe could change.
"Is something the matter, sir?"
Paul looked up as Senior Chief Kowalski came past. "Sorry, Senior Chief. I was sort of lost in thought."
"Not happy thoughts, if I'm any judge."
"Are you surprised? How's the crew taking all this, Senior Chief?"
Kowalski grimaced. "About as you'd expect. A few want to cheer."
"Only a few?"
"Yes, sir. Oh, Mr. Sinclair, you and I both know the Captain wasn't too popular on the mess decks. But it's hard for most folks to be happy about someone else getting hammered, even if they think he deserved it. Meaning no disrespect to Captain Wakeman, of course, sir."
"I understand. What you say is true, Senior Chief."
Kowalski peered closely at Paul. "You worried, sir? About yourself?"
"About me? No. I don't think they'll try to pin anything on me. It looks like Wakeman is the only one being charged."
"That's not what I meant, sir."
Paul looked back at the senior chief, a man subject to his every legal order, yet also literally old enough to be his father. "Yeah, I'm worried. I'm not sure I'm doing as well as I should. At everything."
"Well, sir, I can't comment on everything. And there's nothing wrong with wondering if you can do better. But you're doing okay, sir. I think you're a good officer."
Paul stared back this time. "Really? Thanks, Senior Chief. That means a lot."
"No problem, sir. You earned it. Just don't rest on your laurels." Kowalski moved on down the passageway. "By your leave, sir."
"By all means, Senior Chief." Paul squeezed up against the bulkhead to let Kowalski past, then decided to go in search of Jan Tweed. Telling Tweed about her orders would be a rare opportunity to give her good news once he'd run her down.
* * *
Less than twenty-four hours later, Paul found a message on his data link from a Commander John Wilkes, Judge Advocate General's Corps. 'Commander Wilkes has been appointed trial counsel in the case of the United States versus Captain Peter Wakeman.' Trial counsel. That's the prosecutor. 'Contact Commander Wilkes as soon as possible to arrange an interview. Remain available at all times as a potential witness.' Okay, that means a convening order has been issued, right?
Paul called the ship's office, where administrative issues were handled and any incoming official mail was routed to the right officers. "Have you guys received a copy of the convening order for a court-martial against Captain Wakeman?"
"Uh, sir, that document was marked for delivery to the XO. I'm sorry, I mean acting-Captain Herdez."
"I'm the ship's legal officer. I have a need to see it, too."
"You weren't on distribution, sir."
Paul shook his head, annoyed. "Is it marked Eyes Only?" He knew it wouldn't be. Convening orders and charge sheets were matters of public record.
"No, sir. I guess there's no problem with you seeing it, then. We'll shoot a copy to your message queue."
"Thanks."
A moment later his data link chimed to indicate receipt of the document. Paul called up the convening order, scanning it first. It's a general court-martial, alright. A military judge and five members. He went back, reviewing the names of the members of the court-martial, then called up data on those officers, curious as to their service histories. The Military Judge is Captain Olivia Holmes. Her service history is one hundred percent JAG, but what else would you expect? President of the court-martial is Rear Admiral Charles "Chip" Fowler. OSWO, of course. Commanded various ships, also of course. The usual service awards. Wow. His brother's an admiral, too. Talk about sibling rivalry. Okay, what about the other members? Captain Hailey Nguyen. She's also OSWO. Just came off command of the Mahan. Mahan was the ship we relieved in that patrol area. She's not likely to cut Wakeman any slack. Then Captain Jose Feres. OSWO, last command was the Farragut. That's three Space Warfare Specialists, all with command experience. Then there's Captain Pedro Valdez, Supply Corps. I bet he'll feel like a fish out of water, but they had to dig up five officers who were at least captains to serve on this court-martial, and there can't be all that many candidates on Franklin. Finally, Captain Gail Bolton. Intelligence Specialist? Oh, yeah, they pulled her off the fleet staff.
Wakeman's certainly getting a jury of his peers. I wonder if he's happy about that or scared to death?
The convening order had an attachment. The charge sheet. I guess we'll finally find out what charges they're going to try to use to hang Wakeman. Paul stared as the attachment downloaded. Why is it so long? He waited impatiently, then began running down the charges. Violation of Article 86? Leaving Place of Duty? Two specifications? Why are they bothering bringing in Article 86? Next came Article 92 . . . 'Failure to Obey Order or Regulation . . . first specification . . . in that Captain Peter Wakeman did . . . fail to maintain his assigned duty within the patrol area designated by general order 245-95' . . . that's the same as the reason for one of the Article 86 charges . . . 'second specification . . . failed to conform to operating instructions for his patrol . . . third specification . . . failed to conform to fleet guidance on encounters with third-party shipping . . . fourth specification . . . failed to conform to rules of engagement as promulgated in general order 267-97 . . . fifth specification . . . failed to obey a lawful order from his immediate superior to keep said superior advised of all movements . . . sixth specification . . . derelict in the performance of his duties under fleet operational standards . . . seventh . . . derelict under requirements of Open Space Navigation Treaty . . . eighth . . . derelict in carrying out operational orders . . . ninth . . . derelict in exercising command functions during crisis as set forth in fleet instruction . . .'
Paul surfaced from his reading, blinking in amazement. No wonder this charge sheet is so long. What else are they hitting Wakeman with? He began scrolling through the charge sheet again. 'Article 107. False Official Statement. In that Captain Peter Wakeman did . . . knowingly provide false information in a message sent to Commander, United States Naval Space Forces regarding his encounter with a ship of the South Asian Alliance' . . . Three specifications . . . one for each message Wakeman sent. 'Article 110. Improper hazarding of a vessel.' Good Lord, that's potentially a death penalty offense. 'In that Captain Peter Wakeman did . . . wrongfully and willfully hazard the USS Michaelson by bringing said ship into proximity with another spacecraft without justification . . . second specification . . . wrongfully and willfully hazard the USS Michaelson by failing to maneuver his ship to remain clear of another spacecraft, thus risking collision . . . Article 111 . . . Drunken or Reckless Operation of Vehicle, Aircraft or Vessel.' Give me a break! 'In that Captain Peter Wakeman, while serving as commanding officer of USS Michaelson, did suffer his vessel to be hazarded negligently by failing to order maneuvers to open the distance with another spacecraft when warned of a risk of collision . . . Article 119 . . . Involuntary Manslaughter . . . in that Captain Peter Wakeman did, through culpable negligence, bring about the death of thirty-seven individuals manning a ship of the South Asian Alliance . . .'
Paul sat for a long time, staring at the charge sheet, a lump in his stomach. They threw the book at him. Every charge they could come up with. I'm surprised they didn't try to toss in bigamy and burglary. Yet, the death of the SASAL crew almost sounds like an after-thought. What's the point of all that? To make sure Wakeman gets nailed? After all, the more he's charged with, the more guilty he must be, right?
"Hey, Paul." Jen leaned into the stateroom. "My department head got a message from some JAG about maybe being a witness, so he's running around with his hair on fire. Does that mean a court-martial's going down?"
"Yeah." Paul indicated the document on his screen. "A general court-martial."
"That's the worst there is, right?" Jen came into the stateroom, peering at the display. "That thing's dated yesterday. Do you think Wakeman's
seen it, yet?"
"I'd bet he saw it yesterday. I've been reading up on this stuff. They've got to give Wakeman a minimum of five days after being notified he's being court-martialed to get his defense together before they actual start his trial. The sooner they handed him a copy of this, the sooner that clock starts ticking."
"Wow. So you think they're going to do this as fast as they can, huh?" Jen looked away from the message, focusing on Paul, and frowned. "What's bothering you?"
"I read the charges."
"I can't imagine it's any fun to relive that mess. None of it was your fault, Paul."
"I know. It's just . . ."
She sat down. "What?"
"They're trying to hang Wakeman, Jen."
"Literally?"
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