"All rise." A shuffle of feet as everyone came to attention. Judge Halstead looked around, then seated himself. "Bailiff, please ask the members of the court-martial to enter."
The members entered the courtroom, their faces revealing nothing.
"Captain Mashiko, have the members reached findings?"
Mashiko nodded. "They have."
"Are the findings on Appellate Exhibit Six?"
"Yes."
"Would the trial counsel, without examining it, please bring me Appellate Exhibit Six?" A long minute passed while Judge Halstead studied the exhibit dispassionately. "I have examined Appellate Exhibit Six. It appears to be in proper form. Please return it to the president. Lieutenant Silver, would you and your counsel stand up, please. Captain Mashiko, announce the findings, please."
Captain Mashiko cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Scott Silver, this court-martial finds you guilty of violating Article 92, Dereliction in the Performance of Duties, Article 107, False Official Statements, and Article 131, Perjury. This court-martial finds you not guilty of all other charges and specifications."
Paul bit his lip, looking downward, not wishing to see Lieutenant Silver's expression at the moment.
Triumphant? Stunned? It doesn't matter. Dammit. We nailed him with some heavy offenses, but Silver's getting off on everything directly related to Chief Asher's death. Damn
.
"Does defense counsel wish to present any matters in extenuation or mitigation?"
Lieutenant Commander Jones, his face betraying no emotion, shook his head. "No, Your Honor."
Paul finally looked at Silver, whose face seemed locked into rigidity. But his eyes betrayed confusion.
You finally got caught, didn't you? And you can't figure out why the games didn't work this time
.
"Captain Mashiko, have the members reached a sentence, or do you require further time for deliberations?"
"The members have reached a sentence."
"Captain Mashiko, would you announce the sentence please."
"Lieutenant Silver, this court-martial sentences you to one year in confinement, forfeiture of all pay and allowances, and dismissal from the United States Naval Service."
A hissing sound in the courtroom marked sudden indrawn breaths. Paul's stomach knotted.
Okay. They got him. Maybe it was a trade-off. Agree to convict on enough charges to get Silver out of the Navy. I don't care. He's toast. He'll never kill another sailor.
Judge Halstead began speaking again, telling Lieutenant Silver of his rights to appeal. The statement droned on, long and exactly as laid out in the Manual for Courts-Martial. Paul looked back to see if any other members of the
Michaelson
's wardroom had shown up, and was surprised to see Jen sitting in the courtroom. She flicked a smile his way, then her face returned to professional detachment as Judge Halstead finished his statement and gazed around the courtroom one final time.
"The court-martial is adjourned."
Paul rubbed his face, feeling tension finally begin to ebb from his body.
Not perfect. No. But we got him for you, Chief Asher. Rest in peace. If you can
. He watched Lieutenant Silver being escorted from the courtroom, Lieutenant Commander Jones at his side, Silver's face now reflecting incomprehension at his fate.
And as for you, Silver, I hope your sleep is haunted every night by what you caused
.
Commander Carr turned to face him just as Jen came to his side. "A partial victory, but we got what we wanted, Mr. Sinclair."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you. You did a great job."
"I've done better. Thanks for the support from your end." Carr focused on Jen. Paul watched the two women sizing each other up, then Commander Carr smiled at Jen. "Does this gentleman belong to you, Lieutenant . . . ?"
"Shen. Yes, ma'am, he does."
"The famous Lieutenant Shen! Thank goodness that issue didn't come up during the trial. And aren't you the lucky one. But I've a feeling Paul's going to be keeping you busy." Carr extended her hand to Paul. "Good luck. Nice working with you, Lieutenant Sinclair. Maybe we can do it again some time."
Paul shook her offered hand. "With all due respect, ma'am, I'm hoping to avoid courtrooms for a while."
She laughed. "That's often out of our hands. Look me up if you need advice." With a small wave of farewell, Commander Carr headed out of the courtroom.
Jen gave Paul a hard look. "'Look me up if you need advice,'" she mimicked.
"Jen."
"Maybe I'll just come along when you do that."
"Jen, she's married, she's a commander and she's never acted in any way that implies any personal interest in me! Couldn't you at least get jealous of someone I could reasonably get involved with?"
"Like who?"
"Like -" Paul's words froze in his throat.
Am I totally insane? How can I possibly provide any names in answer to that question without digging myself a hole so deep I'll never climb out
? "Like no one."
"You hesitated."
"I just had to run through everyone I'd ever known or met and realize none of them could ever fall into that category. Except you."
"Very smooth."
They walked out of the courtroom. "Are you actually serious about this or are you just yanking my chain?" Paul demanded. Jen started to reply, then halted. Paul followed her gaze. "Commander Herdez. Good morning, ma'am."
Herdez nodded in greeting. "Lieutenant Sinclair. Lieutenant Shen. Do you have time to accompany me for a drink, Mr. Sinclair? Ms. Shen is of course invited as well."
Paul looked over at Jen, who was watching Commander Herdez as if she were a cobra who'd just reared up in their path. "Certainly, ma'am. Right, Jen?"
Jen exchanged glances with Paul. "Uh, yes. Yes, ma'am."
Commander Herdez started walking toward the officers' club while Paul and Jen followed a half-step behind. Jen looked over at Paul and insistently gestured a question. Paul shook his head and made his own gesture to display a lack of knowledge.
At this early hour, the officer's club had few patrons. The simulated wood paneling and lowered lighting gave the bar an unreal quality, as if it were reached by walking through some sort of portal into an old bar back on Earth. That had been the intent when the bar was designed, of course, but Paul could never decide if the environment there reassured or disturbed him.
Commander Herdez took a seat near the end of the bar, gesturing Jen to the seat on her left side, then Paul to the seat on her right. Jen managed another questioning glare at Paul behind Herdez' back. Paul answered with another expression of ignorance.
"What will you two be drinking?" Herdez asked.
Paul waved vaguely toward the
Michaelson
's berth. "I need to go on duty once I get back to the ship, so I'd better stick to straight Coke, ma'am."
Jen nodded. "Me, too."
Herdez beckoned to the bartender, another luxury intended to invoke Earth-bound bars. "Three Cokes." She waited silently until the drinks came. "Mr. Sinclair. Ms. Shen. To a job well-finished." They all drank to the toast, then Herdez turned to face Paul. "Do you remember our last conversation here?"
"Yes, ma'am. Every word."
"You've a better memory than I, then." Commander Herdez looked intently toward the back of the bar, as if memorizing the labels displayed there. "How do you feel you did, Mr. Sinclair?"
"I wish I'd been able to get him on all charges, ma'am."
"No doubt. I do, as well. But there was sufficient doubt concerning some of charges. Or insufficient proof, if you prefer."
Paul remembered something Commander Carr had said. "We had to work with what we had."
"That's always true, Mr. Sinclair, regardless of our line of work. The only variation is how much we have. Sometimes, though all too few of them, we have all we want and need. Usually, there is less to work with."
"Yes, ma'am." There was another pause, as Commander Herdez sipped her drink. "Ma'am? You told me something once. You said it was easy to work well for good officers, and hard to work well for bad ones. That was the challenge, you said, to work well despite having a superior who wasn't very good. But that also applies even if you're not actually working for them, doesn't it? Any bad officer makes it hard for everyone his or her actions impact."
Herdez looked at Paul again. "Very good, Mr. Sinclair. You're correct. Bad officers require us to make hard decisions."
"There's always the easy decisions," Jen blurted out.
Commander Herdez turned to look at Jen. "There's always the option of doing nothing, yes, even though that risks more and more damage to the Navy and its personnel. I give both you and Mr. Sinclair the credit of assuming you would not shirk your duties in that manner."
Jen met Herdez' eyes. "You
know
I wouldn't, ma'am."
"Yes. I do. You're a fine officer."
Herdez turned back toward Paul, missing the sight of Jen's jaw dropping. "I imagine you nonetheless felt some qualms about bringing about the court-martial of a fellow junior officer."
"Yes, ma'am, I did."
"But you overcame them."
"Yes, ma'am. Partly because I remembered something else you told me once, about honoring the sacrifices of those who die."
Herdez seemed amused. "I rarely hear myself quoted back to me so often in one conversation. Life is full of advice and experiences, Mr. Sinclair. Some good, some bad. That advice and experience doesn't directly shape us. It's the lessons we draw from them that do that. And then our own examples help shape others. This was Lieutenant Silver's greatest failing, that he did not realize his responsibility to others."
Paul snorted a brief laugh. "You don't have to tell me that, ma'am."
"Indeed. You handled yourself well." Commander Herdez consulted her watch. "I see time is passing. I'm sure you need to return to your ship soon."
"Yes, ma'am."
Paul and Jen stood as Commander Herdez watched. "You make a good couple."
Jen stared back, rattled again. "Ma'am?"
"Oh, you heard me, Lieutenant Junior Grade Shen. There's nothing wrong with your ears or your mind. As for you, Mr. Sinclair, I'm still keeping an eye on you. I'll be going to another ship when I leave the staff. Your presence onboard that vessel would be welcome."
It was Paul's turn to be thrown off balance. "Ma'am?"
"If circumstances permit, Mr. Sinclair, I'd like you as a subordinate again. Was it clear that time?"
"Y-yes, ma'am."
Working for Herdez again? Oh, that's going to be painful. But how could I turn down her offer
?
"That is all." Commander Herdez checked her watch again. "And I must return to work as well. Until next time, Mr. Sinclair and Ms. Shen." She walked briskly out of the bar, half of her drink still untouched.
Jen watched her go. "Did you hear what she said?"
"You mean about us being a good couple?"
"Oh, please. Since when does Commander Herdez care about the personal lives of her juniors?"
"Jen, she does."
"That woman has had her bitch-switch stuck on battle-override since the day she was born, and she never cared for me. 'Watch that attitude of yours, Ms. Shen.' 'Are you certain, Ms. Shen?' 'Is there a problem, Ms. Shen?'"
"But she said she thinks you're a fine officer."
"Yes. Exactly. What do you suppose she meant by that?"
"That . . . she thinks you're a fine officer?"
"Herdez? Ha!"
"What do you think she meant?"
"I don't know, but I'll find out. Right now, you and I have another call to make."
"Where?"
Jen mustered an artificially bright smile. "USS
Mahan
."
"Jen!"
"I mean it, Paul. There's unfinished business. Trust me on this. You've got to beard the, um, lion in his den."
"I didn't know lions had beards."
"Whatever! Let's go."
"Just what am I supposed to say to a captain who thinks I'm pond scum?"
"Just wait." Jen met Paul's stubborn gaze. "Trust me, Paul Sinclair!"
Paul let his gaze drop and shook his head. "Okay. You're the expert on your father, and I'm sure as hell not going to hide from him for the rest of whatever career I have in the Navy."
"Damn straight."
The lieutenant junior grade standing officer of the deck on the
Mahan
reacted to Jen's presence with a barely concealed sense of panic. When he saw Paul, the panic rose by an order of magnitude. Clearly fearing the worst, the
Mahan
's officer of the deck called the captain, listened to the reply, then ordered the petty officer of the watch to escort Paul and Jen to the wardroom.
Captain Shen sat there at a table which mirrored that on the
Michaelson
except for a different random pattern of nicks and scratches. Two other officers occupied the wardroom, but after one steely glance from their captain they hastily exited. Captain Shen, as erect as if he were sitting at attention, turned to face Jen. "I gather you're not here to give me an apology."
"I only apologize when I'm wrong. I learned that from a certain senior naval officer."
"That you did." Captain Shen stood, then pivoted to look at Paul, his eyes seeming to bore straight into Paul's brain. "It seems you were declared right by the court-martial, Mr. Sinclair. And I was declared wrong."
"Sir, we both did our duty."
"Don't condescend to me, young man. I screwed up. I failed to accurately determine the causes of that accident on the
Michaelson
. I hope you're not expecting me to thank you for bringing that to public notice."
Paul shook his head. "No, sir."
Captain Shen's glower didn't diminish, but he slowly extended one hand. "But I do thank you for what you did for the Navy. You did a good job, mister."
Paul stared at the hand uncomprehendingly for a moment, then reached out to shake Captain Shen's hand. "Thank you, sir." Shen's grip was so tight Paul almost flinched, but instead he returned the pressure.
Captain Shen's eyes locked on Jen. "My daughter is not a fool."
"No, sir."
"There's a difference between courage and foolhardiness. Do you know that difference?"