The Phoenix Conspiracy

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The Phoenix Conspiracy Page 6

by Richard Sanders

Chapter 4

  Calvin entered the court chamber behind the other commanding officers who’d taken part in the interdiction of the ISS Phoenix, including Vice Admiral Harkov—who’d held the overall command. They took their seats together at a designated table and were sworn in, just in case the court wanted them to testify. It was kind of exciting to sit on one of the raised platforms apart from the general audience.

  Calvin had never had a role in a General Tribunal before, but, until now, he’d never wanted one. This time his excitement came from the hope that Raidan’s true motives would be uncovered. Why a decorated and distinguished captain would suddenly and deliberately betray the Fleet was a question that should be at the forefront of these proceedings.

  At a table opposite them, on another platform, sat the senior staff of the ISS Phoenix. Most prominent was Summers Presley who radiated beauty even through her tired appearance. Calvin also recognized the officers at her side from Calvin’s investigation of the Phoenix’s crew; they were the White Shift bridge officers and the chief physician. Then, on a guarded platform, sat Captain Raidan himself. He was tan and broad, and looked very fit for a man almost fifty. He sported a sharp gray suit instead of his uniform, and at his side were royal marines with navy emblems on their fatigues.

  As Calvin watched Raidan, Calvin got the impression that the captain seemed a bit too confident. Instead of looking anxious or indignant, he seemed amused, almost smug. And then, for seemingly no reason, Raidan looked right at Calvin and made eye contact. Almost like Raidan was studying Calvin. Then Raidan looked away. It made Calvin more confused than uncomfortable. He instantly connected Raidan’s behavior to the mysterious call he’d received earlier. Were they related? Impossible. Raidan had neither access to a terminal nor reason to be interested in Calvin.

  The judicator entered and all rose, not taking their seats again until she’d taken her place at the elevated podium. She wore the burgundy uniform of the Executer of Justice Office, marking her as a local authority and not someone dispatched by Capital World.

  She ordered quiet in the chamber and the doors shut. “This court acknowledges the presence of Vice Admiral Aleksandra Harkov, the senior staff of the Imperial Starship Phoenix, and the respective interdictory commanding officers, Captains Jaromir Otto, Jason Harris, and Lieutenant Commander Calvin Cross. This court also recognizes Consul Nau T’ahne of the Rotham Republic along with his delegation.”

  Three aliens stood up briefly and then sat down again on the only other platform. They were clearly Rotham: humanoid in appearance except for their golden eyes, scaly crimson skin, and generally smaller physiques. Rotham could also grow tails, but most had them removed directly after birth. All three present were male and wore the lavender uniforms of Rotham Military Command. Their hair was black as oil, common for Rotham, and braided in a style symbolizing status in their culture.

  “And so commences the General Tribunal held aboard Praxis One, an outpost of Praxis System, this on the fifth day of the ninth standard month of Standard Galaxy Year 1218, by virtue of a warrant bearing the date the ninth instant, from His Excellency Sir William Gregory, Knight of the King, Overseer and Commander-in-Chief of all His Majesty’s Forces within Sector 116.” The judicator then listed the names and ranks of the officers of the court who would decide the outcome. After this, Captain Raidan was ordered to rise.

  “Have you any objection to any of the names just read to you?”

  “No,” he said and sat back down.

  “Presiding Officer, Court Members, Head of Council, and Judge Advocate, I present to you that, after being duly charged, Captain Asari Raidan of His Majesty’s Fifth Fleet came to be a prisoner before this court and stands accused of four counts of unauthorized assault on nonmilitary starships—three of which were destroyed—one count of violating Peaceful Traffic Treaty 13-A with the Rotham Republic, three counts of destruction of civilian property, seven counts of misuse of a military starship, eighteen counts of failure to maintain regular contact with Fleet Command, and one count of conspiracy against the government. The senior staff of the accused have signed and presented an affidavit to this court confirming the validity of the charges, complete with a joint testimony that the commanding officer was and is solely responsible for the Beotan Incident and all listed charges. Now, Mr. Raidan,” the judicator said, looking him straight in the eyes. “Do you stand by your request to use clause 173-B of the Citizen’s Defense Contract?”

  “I do.”

  “Very well. The accused, as a full and complete citizen of the Empire, has formally requested that no defense counsel be appointed to him other than himself. The court is hereby obligated to grant this request.”

  Calvin raised an eyebrow at this. Having no professional legal defense would only serve to convict Raidan quicker. Did he know this? Perhaps realizing he had no chance of a not-guilty verdict in the face of such voluminous evidence, Raidan wanted to expedite the proceedings. If so, Calvin couldn’t imagine why. It would only speed Raidan to his death.

  “Beginning with the first of the charges—four counts of unauthorized assault on spacecraft belonging to nonmilitary noncombatants. The specification is that, without provocation, you commanded your starship to open fire on four commercial vessels which had entered Imperial Space en route to Capital System. Specifically the Ortahn, Guinn, Qiun’ha, and Ursa freighters belonging to the Beotan Trade Corporation. Your ship destroyed the first three without provocation and inflicted serious damage on the fourth and only surviving vessel, the Ursa, before it managed to evade you. How do you plead?”

  Raidan stood up and looked around the room for a few seconds before speaking. “Guilty.”

  “And you understand that, by such conviction, the only possible recourse for such a crime, as a full citizen, is the death sentence as clearly stated under the law?”

  “Yes, I understand that. And while we’re at it, I plead guilty to all of the charges. I can see the commander of the Ursa freighter among the consul’s delegation, and I can’t defeat a witness like that. And my own staff has come together and condemned me, in a just and honorable way. I cannot, in good conscience, or with any hope, try to pretend that I did not attack those ships. Because I did. And I’d do it again. So I fully accept the consequences of my actions. But know one thing. I did it for the good of the Empire. Everything I’ve ever done has been for the good of the Empire. I want it on the record that these are my feelings and that that is why I surrendered my vessel to the Andromeda without a fight.”

  “So noted,” the judicator said, trying not to look surprised. “This court gratefully accepts your forthrightness, adding to the record that the accused surrendered his vessel voluntarily and that he pled guilty to all charges. Without further need for deliberation, this court is adjourned for sentencing.” The moment her gavel landed, the room flooded with conversation, and military police swarmed in to usher everyone outside the chamber, other than those involved in the sentencing.

  “So that’s it? Just like that and it’s over?” Calvin asked, following the vice admiral out the door.

  “What else did you expect? His guilt was obvious. Even Asari Raidan knew he was convicted before he arrived. Seriously, Lieutenant Commander, did you honestly think this trial could go any other way?”

  “Well, no, I suppose not,” said Calvin. “But—”

  “Even if the evidence weren’t as strong as it is,” she said, interrupting him, “and it is strong, do you think the Rotham people would accept anything less than death for what happened to their ships? If Raidan were somehow acquitted of all charges, it would cause an international outcry.”

  Calvin thought her view, one of politics trumping investigation, was typical of a fleet officer. “What’s bothering me …” said Calvin, as he paused for a moment and searched for the right words. “What I can’t wrap my head around … is that Raidan is in every way the model captain. Perfect service record, great commission. He has three Silver Stars, several merit medallions, and even
the Medal of Valor. Why would he throw away all of that to shoot down some civilian starships for absolutely no reason whatsoever?”

  “It might not have been about what they were but who they were. Have you thought of that?”

  It took him a second to figure out what she meant. “Yes, I’d considered the possibility that it was some kind of hate crime—that he was attacking the Rotham for being Rotham—but that’s not consistent with his character and record. He’s worked alongside Rotham before without a single note of contempt. He even helped coordinate a joint action during the Great War against the Polarians in order to help the Rotham. So that superficial explanation doesn’t tell me anything useful. Certainly not why he’d target these particular ships or why now. And what about all that ‘good of the Empire’ talk? There are details being missed here.”

  “Maybe he wanted to start a war. Whatever it was, his reasoning was clearly unsound, and, like it or not, he is guilty.”

  This kind of obstinacy was why Calvin hated discussing investigations with personnel outside of Intel Wing. Regulars didn’t think much past what could be seen immediately, and they tended to latch onto the first, shallowest explanation that came down the line … but their theory felt wrong to him. Raidan wasn’t an alien-hating racist who wanted to start a war. How could he possibly benefit from being one? Certainly not enough to die for. Calvin also wondered why Raidan made no effort to explain his actions, except to say they were for the good of the Empire. His failure to elaborate implied, to Calvin, that Raidan wanted the superficial explanations to stand. But why?

  The next two hours were spent in the company of Admiral Harkov and fellow command officers. They went to an elegant restaurant and ordered an expensive meal, which the government paid for. They ate as slowly as possible and discussed everything from the trial to local politics. Calvin didn’t know much about Praxis System, so he let the others dominate the conversation. He took it as an opportunity to learn about his environment, since he was vacationing here for the next month.

  Not much distinguished it from a typical colony, outside of geography. The primary station orbited the only habitable planet, a typical medium blue, and the economy hinged on tech processing and mineral discoveries. It was smaller than most Imperial Systems with only five billion people but saw a lot of traffic and kept in reserve a disproportionately large defense force due to its proximity to the DMZ—the Rotham border.

  The system, belonging to the Fifth Fleet’s division, had jurisdiction over dozens of sentry ships, a few frigates, and eighteen fighter divisions, but the coup de grâce was a battleship called the Harbinger. The locals bragged about that dreadnought like it was a legend, and a small debate broke out over whether or not it was a match for the Fifth Fleet’s flagship, the Andromeda. Most at Calvin’s table believed it was not, probably in deference to Vice Admiral Harkov seated with them.

  Once the conversation drifted to local elections and political parties, Calvin became bored and allowed his mind to wander. Elections in the Empire were only for local authorities and meant little more than popularity contests between the Great Houses for status and prestige. Much ado about nothing—a matter of who ran the administration more than what the administration did. All local leaders had to conform to the edicts of the king and his royal magistrates; so, with a few exceptions like gambling and marriage laws, the Empire was the same everywhere.

  When the trial reconvened, Calvin filed into the chamber between the vice admiral of the Fifth Fleet and the captain of the ISS Bounty, and they took their seats along with the rest of the assembly. Once the chamber doors were sealed, the judicator called on the head of council to read the verdict and sentencing.

  “This court, having weighed the evidence against the accused, including his own confession, is of the opinion that Captain Asari Raidan is guilty of all charges proffered against him.” The head of council looked up from his document.

  “Captain Asari Raidan is hereby stripped of his rank and office in the Royal Imperial Navy, and is to be transported as a felon to Capital World,” said the judicator, “where he will be put to death by nitrogen asphyxiation.”

  Consul of the Rotham Republic stood up, raising a hand of objection. “The republic demands the accused be extradited to Rotham space for the execution of the sentence, which must be performed according to Rotham laws and customs.”

  Their methods of capital punishment were famously more brutal than executions in the Empire. For instance, the condemned might be slowly pressed to death inside a metal vise.

  The judicator looked at the consul. “The Extradition Treaty cannot be invoked because the incident occurred within Imperial Space. And the condemned is a full citizen of the Empire and is, therefore, immune.”

  The consul looked disappointed but bowed, showing submission to the standing rule of law. “The Rotham Republic withdraws its demand and instead requests that Rotham representatives be present to certify the sentence is carried out and, if possible, that a Rotham agent be allowed to activate the nitrogen machine.”

  “This court is not authorized to grant or deny those requests. I remind the respected consul that the accused, as a full citizen of the Empire, has the right to appeal this verdict to the Royal Supreme Court on Capital World, though they may not accept the case.”

  “I’m not going to appeal it,” said Raidan from his seat.

  The consul appeared satisfied by this and sat down.

  Just as the judicator seemed ready to conclude the trial, Calvin bowed to his impulses and raised a hand of objection.

  “The court recognizes Lieutenant Commander Calvin Cross of the IWS Nighthawk.” She didn’t seem happy by his interruption, which was out of place, but allowed it to stand.

  “I request a stay of execution until a full investigation is completed.” He almost couldn’t believe he was doing this. “As an intelligence officer, I have reason to believe Raidan’s motives—I mean, the accused’s motives—are more complex than what this court has found and should be uncovered as a matter of national security. And since the accused is the most valuable witness to such an investigation, losing him before we can investigate would be a terrible mistake.”

  His request met with dissonance throughout the room, especially in the form of hissing from the Rotham table.

  The judicator had to smack her gavel to silence the chamber. “Further investigation is not necessary because guilt has already been established beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” said Calvin, breaking protocol by speaking without permission. “I’m not interested in proving whether or not the accused is guilty. I’m interested in finding out why he did what he did. People don’t do things without some kind of motive, and we haven’t established one … at least not a convincing one. My instinct is to believe Raidan is involved in something larger, which may present a credible threat to the Empire.”

  The judicator nodded, now understanding. But the expression on her face, and most of the faces in the room, was disapproving. “Lieutenant Commander, as only a half-citizen of the Empire and lacking sufficient rank, this court cannot consider your request. Unless such a motion is seconded by an officer of flag rank.”

  Calvin looked immediately to Vice Admiral Harkov, Calvin’s eyes begging her to take up his cause. But she refused to speak on his behalf.

  “If there is no further objection, this court is concluded and dismissed.”

 

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