"Yes, ma'am." The corporal could see the shift in power immediately, and acted accordingly, issuing orders into his communicator. "Respectfully, ma'am, I don't think that your current uniform is appropriate for a meeting with the CNO. If you will give me an hour, I can find you a new uniform."
"Thank you for your concern, Corporal." Her eyes held his while she continued. "But I think my current uniform is appropriate for a meeting with the CNO and Admiral Rachere. More than appropriate." A puzzled frown crossed his face, but he said nothing to her. Instead he spoke quietly into his communicator.
"Painter, do you know the status of my crew?"
Lieutenant Commander Painter shook his head, then began to protest again, but she silenced him with a glance. Several long moments later, another marine hurried down the hall carrying a bundle in his arms. Handing it to the corporal, he turned to go but stopped when he saw Alex. Her command presence was a physical thing, and the marine could feel the effect. Even out of uniform, here stood an officer worth following.
Alex saw the look the second marine was giving her, and the corporal as well. She hated it. She had seen that look too many times before, on faces she would never forget but would only ever see again in her dreams. She shook herself back to the situation at hand, taking her uniform from the corporal. She had a duty to perform, and she would do it, no matter what the cost to her soul.
All three men stood looking at her expectantly. She finally had to say something.
"If you gentlemen don't mind, I'd like a little privacy to change." They said nothing as their faces flushed. Then they moved a short distance down the passageway. Alex changed into her uniform as quickly as her injuries would allow. When she was finished, she again stood in front of the mirror, taking an account of herself.
Her dress uniform, once pristine white, was now blackened and scorched. Blood stained her shoulder boards and ribbons. But somehow, the top ribbon, the sky-blue one with the stars on it, still looked brand-new. She smiled at how capricious the universe could be, and how perverse. The rips and tears in both her blouse and trousers seemed appropriate, considering the damage to the rest of her uniform. Yes, this was indeed the appropriate uniform to wear to her meeting. Let Admiral Greco see what she had looked like, how damaged both she and her ship had been, when Admiral Rachere marched onto her command deck. Let him see what Rachere had abandoned in his own weird vendetta.
She snarled at the thought of Rachere again and turned to head out of the cell. She was certain that the admiral's actions had been personally motivated, but she could not determine what she had ever done to him to warrant his wrath. Regardless, he had threatened her ship and crew, and she would see that he paid for it. Yes, one way or another, he would pay.
Striding down the passageway, she could see the corporal and lieutenant commander waiting. The other marine must have headed back to his post. Stopping in front of the marine, she spoke.
"Corporal, you are a credit to the service, and to that uniform. Thank you for your concern, and keep up the good work," she said very formally. Alex could see his eyes travel from her eyes, down to her ribbons, then back again. He snapped to parade-ground attention.
"Thank you, ma'am. It was an honor to meet you." She gave him a small smile and nodded, then turned to the officer beside him.
"Let's go, Painter. The admirals await." The deliberate omission of his rank was not lost on any of them.
Chapter Nineteen
Naval Annex, Washington DC, Terra
October 8, 2197
2245 z
Sol
Captain Alexandra McLaughlin stood outside the door leading to the Chief of Naval Operation's inner office. Lieutenant Commander Painter, standing beside her, reached for the handle. Turning it, he pushed the door open and preceded her inside. She knew that he hated and resented what tradition dictated he do next, but, to his credit, he did his duty. Begrudgingly.
"Attention on deck," he ground out through clenched teeth. Alex stood in the doorway and watched as both the CNO and Admiral Rachere came to attention. Normally Alex hated this tradition—having a room come to attention as she entered it, all because of the Medal. But not this time. This time she wanted it clear that she had proven herself to her nation. Proven it in combat, in a trial by fire that had cost her more than her own blood, more than these men could ever know. There would be no question of her loyalty and dedication in this room, not now, not ever.
"As you were," she said softly as she stepped into the room and marched up to the CNO's desk, pointedly ignoring Admiral Rachere on her way past him. Stopping several paces away from the desk, she came to attention. The sole source of light in the huge office was coming from the lamp on the corner of his desk, and she stood in the pool of light as if it were a spot light.
"Sir, Captain McLaughlin reporting as ordered." Alex remained at attention while she waited for Admiral Greco's response. Eyes fixed on a point above his head, she could not see the shocked look on his face as he took in the state of both her uniform and her face. Nor did she see the accusatory look he shot at Admiral Rachere. Had she seen it, she would have been pleased to see that this meeting was starting off just the way she had wished it to.
"At ease, Captain," Admiral Greco finally said, his voice hushed as he continued to stare at Alex. "Please, sit."
Alex lowered herself into the indicated chair, face tightening in a grimace of pain as she did so.
"Captain, are you okay?" Greco's voice held real concern. "We can postpone this meeting until tomorrow if you need more time to rest." Alex, unaware of the conversation that had taken place between the CNO and the Secretary of War, did not know how quickly both men wanted this situation resolved. She would not have cared even if she had. She wanted the situation resolved now, and she would not see it delayed one moment longer.
"I'm fine, sir," she said, still ignoring Admiral Rachere even though military courtesy dictated that she at least acknowledge his presence. "I wish to proceed without delay."
"If you are sure?" He waited for her nod before continuing. "Then, can I offer you anything to drink?" She could see that while the admiral wanted to move on, he was slightly hesitant to do so, as if, once the peace were breached, it would be impossible to regain. "Coffee, tea, or perhaps something stronger?"
"I'm fine, sir," Alex repeated; there was no pretense of civility in her voice or posture. She had come for a fight and wanted to get to it.
"Very well." Sighing, Admiral Greco began. "I believe you both understand why you are here, but to set the record straight, Admiral Rachere, you are here because of your actions or lack thereof in regard to the USS Fenris and her crew upon their emergence in this system." Admiral Rachere inhaled deeply though his nostrils but said nothing. Turning to face her, Admiral Greco continued. "Captain McLaughlin, you are here to answer for your actions in relation to Admiral Rachere. Are we all clear on that?" Both officers ground out an acknowledgment. The reminder of each other's actions brought the tension up in the room.
"I have spoken with the Secretary of War, and we both agree that this situation needs to be resolved quickly and fairly. We can ill afford to be at loggerheads now. With the destruction of Admiral Stevens' fleet, this system is exposed, and we must keep our focus on preparations for a possible Xan-Sskarn attack." Alex felt her head nod in agreement with the CNO's assessment.
"So I have asked you both here to find out exactly what occurred, and what we can do to rectify it." Alex watched him toy with a pad on his desk before he turned to face Admiral Rachere. "Admiral, can you please explain why you failed to dispatch a relief ship to aid the Fenris when all indications pointed to damage, and why you proceeded to board her and place Captain McLaughlin under arrest for treason?"
"Admiral Greco," Rachere began in a silky-smooth voice. "While I do agree with the assessment that the Fenris did enter this system apparently damaged, I had received no information indicating that she was due to return. Given the emergency communication from Admiral St
evens, however garbled, as well as the captain's past record, I assumed that she had abandoned Admiral Stevens' fleet in the face of the enemy and run for home."
"What!?" Alex snapped up in her chair, all pain forgotten as a spike of adrenaline flooded her system. The smarmy smile that he turned on her goaded her even more. She could tell that he was trying to push into losing her temper again, and unfortunately it was working. "How dare you even suggest—"
"Captain!" Admiral Greco's voice cut across her, pulling her attention from Rachere. Admiral Rachere continued as if he had not been interrupted.
"As commanding officer of Folkvang station, it is up to me to determine whether or not a relief ship should be dispatched, and in my opinion, given lack of evidence to the contrary, I had no choice but to believe that Captain McLaughlin had turned traitor. One escape might be considered miraculous, but two? No, two escapes are not miraculous, but traitorous. It was obvious."
During Rachere's calm explanation, Alex's fingers were gripping the arms of her chair hard enough to begin to tear the two-hundred-year-old leather. Only a supreme effort of will was keeping her seated and not hurtling toward Rachere.
"So, what you are saying, Admiral Rachere," Admiral Greco began, the look on his face clearly wondering what kind of perverse logic could have led Rachere to draw the conclusions he had, "is that because the Fenris arrived in system alone, you determined that not only Captain McLaughlin but her entire crew had turned traitor?" Holding out a placating hand toward Alex, he kept his gaze on Rachere.
"Of course not, sir. But as much as it pained me, I did believe that a majority of the crew was behind her, as there would be no way for her to bring the Fenris home alone."
"I see." Alex could tell from Admiral Greco's tone that he did not understand; she did not, either. "And once you boarded the Fenris? Can you please explain why you attempted to remove Captain McLaughlin from command without even asking her what the situation was?"
"Yes, sir." His honeyed voice once again filled the room as he cast another smug gaze toward Alex. More leather tore under her fingers.
"Operating under the belief that most if not all of the crew of the Fenris had turned traitor, I had hoped to remove the head from the body, as it were, by removing Captain McLaughlin from the ship as quickly as possible. Thereby hopefully allowing the crew to see the error of their ways. At which time I would have immediately given the orders to dispatch a relief ship. But without knowing the status of the crew, I could not in good conscience send a ship out to the Fenris, not knowing if it would be fired upon, or even taken over. So I made the decision to see for myself that the situation was safe before ordering good men and women into harm's way. Also, regulations state that I am not to give aid and comfort to the enemy, and traitors, sir, are considered the enemy."
"And the reason why you never asked the captain why she was back in Sol, obviously battle damaged?"
"I never got the chance, sir." The pleasure in his voice was unmistakable. Alex could see that he had guided the conversation in this direction for the express purpose of painting her in the worst possible light.
"Explain."
"When I first attempted to place Captain McLaughlin under arrest, she laughed then ordered me off her command deck. After I explained the situation regarding the relief ship to her, she physically and verbally assaulted me, and it is my sincere belief that were it not for members of her own crew, I would quite possibly be dead now. She then proceeded to threaten my life." Pausing here, he smirked at her, twisting the knife even more. "I should point out at this time, sir, that Commander Denton, the chief engineer, did in fact punch Captain McLaughlin at this time, while she was physically restrained by another member of her crew. While I have no plans to bring charges against the commander, I believe an investigation is warranted."
"You know God damn well, that—" Alex began, only to be cut off by Admiral Greco once more.
"Anything else?" Greco asked, his tone indicating that he knew that there was. Nodding, Admiral Rachere continued.
"After my second attempt to arrest the captain, she attempted to bargain with me, and, failing that, she and her crew threatened both my life and the lives of the MPs with me." Rachere shook his head in disappointment. "Finally, seeing that no other course was open to me, I agreed to dispatch a relief ship if McLaughlin would stand down. The only reason I capitulated was that it appeared to me that the remaining senior officer, Commander Denton, was not supporting Captain McLaughlin's actions. She did punch her, after all." Finishing his statement, Rachere leaned back in his chair, a content smile playing about his lips.
"And knowing what you know now about Admiral Stevens' final order to Captain McLaughlin? What would your response have been?"
"I would, of course, have dispatched relief ships immediately and contacted High Command."
Seeing red and still tearing at the arms of her chair, Alex missed what Admiral Greco said. Finally he turned his attention to her, and she could see his hope that she could say something that would mitigate what Rachere had just said. Unfortunately, what Rachere had said, at least the portions involving her actions after his boarding, was fairly accurate. But that was not the same as entirely accurate.
"Captain McLaughlin, I am well aware that you are no traitor or deserter. A copy of Admiral Stevens' final order to you was forwarded to my office, and I know you were directed to return to Sol as quickly as possible. Right now, I am trying to determine what occurred when you arrived." His gaze stayed locked on Alex's eyes, and he asked the question. "Does what Admiral Rachere just reported coincide with your recollections of the incident?"
They say that discretion is the better part of valor, and most times they are right. Today is not most times. Fuck discretion, she thouht.
"Would I say that the admiral is lying through his teeth?" Alex snarled. "No, sir. Would I say he is dancing on the razor's edge of the truth? Oh, yes, sir." Now it was Rachere's turn to clutch the arms of his chair and try to interrupt, with about as much success as she had had.
"Admiral Rachere, you have had your say. It's the captain's turn now," Greco said pointedly. "Please proceed, Captain."
"Yes, sir." Alex collected her thoughts for a moment then began to speak. "After returning to Sol, to say my ship and crew were in bad shape would be an understatement. Frankly, I was surprised that we had survived our translation. Once we reached Sol and were finally no longer under fire, I devoted the entire efforts of the crew to damage control. Including, I might add, external communications, so as to report the situation. I am sure the admiral has seen the reports as to the status of the Fenris?" She waited for Admiral Greco's nod of assent before continuing. "Then you know there was no way for us to inform anyone as to our or the fleet's situation. After several hours, we were finally boarded by what I thought was a relief party. It was in fact Admiral Rachere and his MPs." She cast a hateful glance toward Admiral Rachere.
"And after Admiral Rachere arrived on the command deck?" Admiral Greco prompted, seeing that Alex was content to sit and stare murder at the admiral.
"After the admiral arrived on the command deck, he marched right up to me, stepping over injured crew members, to place me under arrest," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Of all the things that I had expected, an admiral marching onto my command deck and placing me under arrest was not one of them. I admit I did not handle it well, thinking it was some kind of sick joke. Then, when he persisted, I informed the admiral that the Fenris was my ship and that if he was not going to assist in damage control, he could leave. He then repeated that I was under arrest, and I decided that it was not the time to argue about the absurdity of that. I told him that I would gladly go with him, just to get his damage-control and medical teams moving to assist my crew. That was when I found out that not only did he believe me and my entire crew to be traitors, but that there was no relief ship." Alex was seething now, the entire scene playing out in her mind again.
"At this time, did you attempt to as
sault the admiral?" Admiral Greco asked expectantly.
"No, sir."
"Good. Now please—" The admiral did not get to finish, as Alex completed the answer to his question.
"I tried to kill him. Sir." She was smiling back at Admiral Greco now, and was not surprised to see him sit up straight and stare at her open-mouthed as her statement registered. "Ensign Green's and Commander Denton's interference is the only reason that Admiral Rachere is sitting here now."
"Then his statement about you watching him in a pool of his own blood?" he asked hesitantly.
"A girl's got to have goals," she said back lightly, looking down at her nails then staring at Admiral Rachere. She could see him pale a bit, realizing that she truly did want to kill him, regardless of the circumstances or repercussions. She smiled as sweat began to appear on his upper lip and he cast his glance about the office, looking for escape routes.
"Captain, I find your casual attitude to be disturbing," Admiral Greco finally said, trying to regain his composure.
"I'm sorry, sir, but you asked, and I am duty bound to answer as truthfully as possible."
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