A Just Determination ps-1

by John G. Hemry

  "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?"

  "Uh, no. I don't think so, although some of the things they charged him with allow the death penalty."

  Jen's eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding. I didn't expect that, even for Cap'n Pete."

  "I guess I didn't either. Jen, I want the guy to be called to account for what he did, but I don't feel right about all these charges."

  "Why? What's the big deal?"

  "Jen, look at this charge sheet. They're piling on the charges."

  "Piling on? What's that mean?"

  "It means they're charging Wakeman with everything they conceivably could, regardless of whether or not it increases the potential penalty. They're officially called, um, lesser included offenses."

  Jen shrugged. "Hey, if he did it, he did it. What kind of extra charges are you talking about?"

  Paul pointed toward his display. "Well, look here for example. Right at the top. They're charging him with two counts of violating Article 86."

  "Article 86?" Jen squinted at the charge sheet skeptically. "They're charging Wakeman with being A
WOL?"

  "No. It's not the Absent Without Official Leave component of Article 86, it's the Leaving Appointed Place of Duty component. They're charging Wakeman with Article 86 first for leaving our patrol area while we were chasing the SASAL ship, and then again for matching course with the wreck and accompanying it for a few days instead of heading back into our patrol area."

  "You're kidding. We were in hot pursuit of the SASAL ship, and no one in their right mind would have just let the wreck zoom off into nowhere without going aboard."

  "Then you see my point."

  "Okay. I will, with great reluctance, agree that those two charges are over-the-top. But it isn't like Wakeman doesn't deserve to be hammered. He was a lousy commanding officer."

  "I'm not debating that. I think he's also a lousy human being. But he's not on trial for his general performance as a commanding officer. No. He's being tried for the specific actions he took while pursuing and firing on the SASAL ship. And some of these charges are nailing him for doing things anybody would've done."

  "Like shooting at an unarmed ship?"

  "I said some of them! Why couldn't they have just charged him with involuntary manslaughter? And maybe the false official statement charge, because he knew those messages we sent didn't reflect what we'd found on the SASAL ship. Why all this other stuff? It's like in medieval times when they'd sentence someone to be hanged, then drawn and quartered, and then beheaded. It's overkill. And like I said, some of this stuff he's being charged with is the same sort of thing we'd have done in his place with the orders we had."

  Jen leaned back, crossing her arms. "So, you don't think it's fair, huh? What are you going to do about it?"

  "I don't know."

  "Are you planning to somehow go to the mat defending Cap'n Pete's virtues as a commanding officer and leader because you don't think the system is being fair to him?"

  "No! But… look, I just don't know."

  "Will you at least promise me not to do anything stupid in the name of some personal concept of nobility?"

  Paul frowned at her. "Why? What do you care what happens to me?"

  "Who said I care?

  "It sounds like you care."

  "Ha! Don't get your hopes up, Sinclair. I'm just trying to keep your butt out of a bight so I don't get stuck trying to pry you loose and having to pick up all the pieces afterwards."

  Paul stared stubbornly at his display, unwilling to meet Jen's eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake. Don't get your ego up. I hate seeing my friends dig themselves into deep holes. Does that sound better?"

  Paul sat silently for a minute, while Jen waited as if sensing he needed time to think. "Jen, did you ever see something happening that you thought was bad, and everything you'd ever been taught said it was wrong to do nothing, but you ended up doing nothing anyway?"

  "Duh. That's life. Theory versus practice."

  "But didn't it bother you? Doesn't it still bother you? I remember back at the Academy, seeing some guy doing stuff that should have gotten him kicked out, but getting away with it all because he had the right connections. Thinking I ought to raise a stink. But I didn't. Now that guy's an officer and probably well on his way to becoming another Peter Wakeman. Because I didn't do something when I knew I should. How many lives will he make miserable? How many people might he kill through his own incompetence?"

  Jen exhaled heavily. "Paul, part of me wants to try to slap some sense into that brain of yours. And part of me is amazed that someone can still believe in ideals like that. This is the real world. You're not personally responsible for all the injustices that take place. You can't stop them, you can't fix them. If you'd made a fuss over that jerk at the academy, maybe you would've been kicked out, too. Then you would've ruined your life, and that well-connected bozo would have gone on to live happily ever after anyway. Right?"

  "That makes sense, but… it just doesn't seem right. Is my highest priority in life supposed to be looking out for my own best interests?"

  Jen looked beseechingly upwards. "Heaven help me. It's not that simple. You're worried about people doing bad things? Wakeman did a bad thing. Now, he's going to get hammered. What's the problem?"

  "He didn't get us into that mess alone, Jen. Our orders gave him discretion to get us there, and the people writing those orders knew Wakeman."

  "Okay. Even if you happened to be one hundred percent right about that, and I'm not conceding that fact except for the sake of argument, even then, I can't see risking your career for the sake of Cap'n Pete. People like him aren't worth it."

  "Then who is? Only people I like?"

  "That's one way of looking at it. If I was the one being hammered I'd be really happy to have you donning your righteous armor on my behalf."

  Paul nodded. "And I would, Jen. For you. In a heartbeat."

  She eyed him for a moment, then smiled. "I bet you say that to all the auxiliary engineering officers you meet. So, does that perspective resolve your moral dilemma?"

  "No. Where's the morality in only acting right on behalf of those you like?"

  Jen shook her head. "You, Paul Sinclair, obviously read all the wrong books when you were growing up. And believed them. Heroic knights and common folk dashing off on noble quests just because it was the right thing to do. Fighting impossible odds against evil. Making the world a better place by their efforts and example and sacrifice. Right?"

  "It sounds like you read the same books."

  "Yeah, but I stopped believing in them. Mallory's book is called The Death of Arthur, remember? That's what the Round Table's idealism came down to: murder, adultery, war and a king and his son killing each other. Forget the noble causes, Paul. Look out for yourself. There's no sense in making your life any harder right now."

  "I didn't think life could get any harder."

  "That's probably what Kris Denaldo thought. She's picked herself up and learned the right lesson. I'd rather you didn't hit the same sort of wall before figuring out where you went wrong."

  Jen's words made sense. He'd learned a long time ago that the world didn't work the way it should, and that trying to make a difference usually didn't seem to make any difference. She's trying to keep me out of trouble. So why does her advice grate me the wrong way? She's right. Isn't she? "Maybe."

  "Instead of worrying about the fate of Cap'n Pete, shouldn't you be trying to catch up on some of your other duties?"

  "Maybe."

  "If they want to pile on the charges against Wakeman, they'll do it. It's not like you can make any real difference there. Right?"

  "Maybe."

  "And shouldn't you be agreeing with what I'm saying instead of repeating, 'Maybe?'"

  Jen's last statement caught Paul off-guard, so that he found himself laughing. "Is that the key to happiness in life, Jen? Agreeing with you?"

  "I certainly think it'd be a better world if everybody did that. My last advice to you right now is to get out of your stateroom and get to work, Paul."

  "Okay. Thanks, Jen."

  "So you're going to do what I said?"

  "Uh… maybe."

  Jen paused on her way out of the stateroom to glare back at him. "You're hopeless, Sinclair. I don't know why I bother."

  Regardless of the truth of everything else Jen had said, she was right that Paul had plenty of other work to occupy his time and his mind. Paul located Chief Imari so they could review divisional training records, then sweated over the wording of a couple of fitness reports for enlisted personnel that Jan Tweed had asked him to take care of. After that, he pigeonholed Carl Meadows long enough to get a couple more of his OSWO qualifications signed off so that Garcia wouldn't flip out over Paul's lack of progress in that area.

  All in all, it almost made him forget the upcoming court-martial, except that almost every task took him through a space or dealt with a document that brought Captain Wakeman to mind. The fact that he could neither shake his misgivings nor resolve them made Paul more and more
restless, to the point where he headed aft as far he could go on the Michaelson, right back to the bulkhead unofficially labeled The End of the World, then turned and began working his way forward just to remain in motion.

  Just past the crew's mess deck he found the chief master-at-arms, Petty Officer Sharpe, leaning against a bulkhead with arms crossed, checking out crew members who edged past him with assorted expressions of greeting, worry or hostility. "Hey, Sheriff."

  "Hey, boss. Were you looking for me, sir?"

  "No, not really. But I haven't seen you for a few days. How's the criminal element doing?"

  Sharpe grinned. "Oh, they're being real good, sir. Or at least real careful. Nobody but nobody wants to end up restricted to the ship right after we get home from a patrol. So there's nothing legal to worry about. Except, well, you know."

  "I know. Have you seen the charge sheet?"

  "Have I seen the charge sheet? Sir, I haven't read a novel that long in ages. It's a doozy."

  Paul shook his head angrily. "Sheriff, did you ever see someone hauled up on charges they didn't deserve? I mean, maybe they weren't great sailors or anything, but instead of being called to account for their real failures they ended being nailed on something they didn't necessarily do?"

  "Why, sir, wherever could you have found that example?" Sharpe cocked his head to one side, regarding Paul intently. "Begging your pardon for the question, sir, but does this mean you're not happy with what's happening to Captain Wakeman?"

  "You got it. I want him punished, but not the piling on, not the charges for doing things I might have done. Do you think I'm an idiot?"

  "Sir, even if I did I wouldn't say so. Mama Sharpe didn't raise a fool. But justice is a funny thing, sir. Sometimes it happens in the wrong way but ends up doing the right thing."

  "Then you never had a case where you felt somebody shouldn't be convicted on the charges against them, even if they were some kind of dirtball?"

  "Dirtballs deserve whatever they get, sir."

  Paul thought about that, then smiled wryly. "I forgot. You're a cop, Sheriff."