“Good,” the clerk said, not looking up from his paperwork. “You are slated for a full panel hearing today. They’ve been holding onto this case for over a week. Glad you could finally make it.”
That last bit was dripping with sarcasm but Jon ignored it. Desk jockeys liked to flex their power. Let them be petty. Jon was more interested in getting his command status back.
Jon was directed to a corridor off to the side of the room which led to a hearing room. Three arbiters, soon to be retired admirals serving a final administrative rotation, sat at a raised table.
“Captain Jonathan Aichele, reporting for duty.”
“Yes Captain. Thanks for attending. This shouldn’t take long. More formality than anything,” The middle arbitrator said. He was probably the senior officer, or at least serving as such.
The left and right arbiters said nothing, looking at him with disinterest. Just another mindless duty to be performed. Mere routine.
The middle arbitrator pulled out a tablet.
“We need you to read and thumb print this admission. Simple routine, then you’ll be placed back into the Captain’s pool and re-assigned accordingly.”
He handed Jon the tablet. Jon looked at it without actually reading it. It was standard all over Battlefleet. A single page, short and to the point. Thumb it and move on. Something he’d done a thousand times.
Something caught his eye though. The wording. It was all wrong.
“Admiral, if I may?”
“Go ahead Captain.”
“This document is an admission of wrong doing during the incident over Heart’s Home, but it does not state which order or procedure was violated.” Jon didn’t like it, and let the irritation creep into his voice.
“Yes Captain. That’s exactly what it is. But it won’t negatively affect your reinstatement. On the contrary, this admission is the price of your reinstatement.”
The other two admirals were looking at each other, far less bored now. Definitely not as routine as he’d been led to believe.
Jon asked, “It’s routine to ask a Captain to admit to general wrong doing, for which he was stripped of command, in order to regain command?”
The senior arbiter narrowed his eyes and looked down his nose at Jon, saying, “Not exactly routine, no. But let us get to the point, son. You have no choice. This was the arrangement agreed upon by the highest of command. You’ll agree or remain grounded indefinitely, never to serve on ship again. I’m sure Central Command has room for another latrine man, should you refuse.
“But sir this document is false. There was no wrong doing, and none is listed here. It’s a general admission of guilt. I can’t sign it,” Jon said.
“Sign or be grounded. There is no appeal. Am I making myself clear?”
“Crystal, sir.”
Jon was fuming. He knew he wasn’t holding it together well. He could see by the smug look on the senior arbiter’s face that the bastard thought he was had. Cornered.
He wasn’t.
“Sir, I think you’re mistaken. I do have a choice. The regs clearly state that an officer, not on deployment and not during a time of war, can resign their commission.”
“Hold on now listen to me.” The left most arbiter finally spoke. “You’d be throwing away your career in Battlefleet. 12 years of commitment. Sign this now, take the black mark on your record, and in a few years it will fade into the past. Irrelevant.”
“I cannot agree to a lie. This document is false. I do not agree to it...”
“Wait...”
“...and I resign from Battlefleet.”
Jon turned on his heel. A perfect about face, and walked out. The arbiters were either too shocked or too angry to say anything more.
Jon walked out of Central Command not knowing where he was going. He was shaking. Directionless. Second guessing himself. He found himself halfway back to the spaceport. He might as well go back to the Ninja. He had no other place to go. Hopefully they hadn’t left yet.
As he was turning down the final walkway leading to the port entrance he was grabbed by a set of crusher hands. Sam, of course.
“Chief what are you doing? Let go.”
“The hell I will. I just hit atmo when I heard you were at your hearing. I came to see how it went and the whole goddamn base is talking about how you resigned in protest. You idiot.”
“Look Sam they were going to make me admit to...”
“Shut up kid.” Sam smacked him. Not hard, but it got his attention.
Sam started roaring. His accent thickening. “I cannut allow you t’toss away everything for some girl. Yer smarter than that!”
“Girl? What? No. They wanted me to lie. To admit wrong doing. To be part of some political hackery in order to regain my command. I can’t do it. I’d never raise in rank after that sort of black mark anyway, you and I both know it.”
“So you stand on principal then? Take the moral high ground and piss away your career?” Sam was starting to calm down, his roar switching to more of a bellow.
“What career? To be a liar? To admit to ‘endangering the galaxy and humanity at large’? I won’t do it Sam. You wouldn’t either.”
“You’d be damn surprised what I’ve done in service to Battlefleet, Jon. Damn surprised...” Sam trailed off. Thinking. A look of guilt or shame washing over his face and quickly fading.
“Okay,” Sam said. “What’s done is done. So what’s your plan now. I know how you like to have plans.”
“I’m going back to the Ninja. I’ll decide from there.” And from there Jon truly had no idea what to do. Go back to Cornhaul and help run the farm with his mother, or maybe try for a job with one of the space lines shipping out of Cornhaul or Becker Station.
Sam remained exasperated but he’d run out of steam. He gave Jon a hug. Sam wasn’t a hugger. Sam’s embrace nearly snapped Jon’s spine. He probably did it on purpose.
“Good luck Jon. I’ve got to go report for duty, I’ve been gone a lot longer than my vacation should have allowed. I’ll have to think of a good story or I might be joining you in retirement. Good bye for now.”
Sam turned and marched away back in the direction of Central Command. Back to a building Jon would never set foot in again.
* * *
Jon was brooding. Trying to think of what to do next. Sitting in the common area of the Ninja. Picking at a piece of New Chicago pizza Jeff had ordered in. He’d told the whole story to the crew. Tan and Young Rae understood his feelings immediately. They’d just had their lives upended as well.
Jeff’s reaction was more cryptic. He just shrugged and said, “Life is hard sometimes.”
Weston, however, was ecstatic. Jon couldn’t figure out why. Maybe he was being a jerk.
“Okay look,” Weston said. “I know you are figuring out what to do next, so how about this. I’ll let you be the Captain of the Ninja.”
“What? You’d hire me on?” Jon asked, surprised at the offer. That would split profits, depending on how the shares worked out, but it would definitely lower Weston’s cut on each job.
“Not exactly hire you on,” Weston said, standing up and rubbing his hands together, pacing around the room. “I’ll let you buy a stake in the Ninja.”
“Buy? I don’t have that kind of money.” Jon was confused.
“Sure you do. You have your acres on Candia. I’ll take those, for, say, 9% ownership of the ship.”
“9%!” Shouted everyone in the room.
Young Rae was incredulous. “He could buy his own ship for that much.”
Jon saw Weston’s game. Ever looking for a big money opportunity.
“Tell you what Weston. I’ll hand over 250 acres for 15% and the captain slot for as long as I want it.”
Weston hesitated, did a quick calculation on his hand com, and reached out his hand.
“Agreed.”
They shook on the deal. The universal gesture, binding throughout human space.
* * *
Jon was in bed w
ith the light off, nearly asleep when he heard a tapping at his door.“Open,” he said.
The door slid open letting the light in. It was Young Rae.
“No games tonight?” She asked.
“No, not tonight. It’s been a long day. I’m going to sleep early.”
Young Rae changed the subject. “Do you think Weston will let me stay on as communications specialist? Without my family I’ll need to make my own way.”
“I think he will. He might even let you buy in like I did. You still have your 1000 acres, remember.” Jon hoped Weston would.
Jon would do just about anything to convince Weston of the greatness of that plan. The ship was under crewed anyway. He wondered if being Captain meant Jon had final say on who they hired. Probably not, Weston would want to keep control of financial matters.
“Jon?”
“Yeah Young Rae, I’m still awake.”
“When do I get to start sleeping in here with you?”
Jon must not have heard that right. His internal alarms were sounding, his mind blanking. He recovered, sort of.
“Um, you know that husband protector thing was just a mistake. I went with it to get you off of Cao. It doesn’t mean you have to sleep with me. If you don’t want to.”
“Jonathan Aichele, I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”
Young Rae slipped into Jon’s bed as the cabin door swung closed, cloaking the room in darkness.
--The End--
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Moral High Ground: Crew of the Ninja #1 Page 10