The Battle of the Hammer Worlds

out loud at the thought. Now, as the hours and then days dragged by, the idea was beginning to look less and less absurd. After all, captains of FedWorlds Space Fleet starships were powerful people, and it did not take much of that power to break the careers of two officers.

He decided that he would make another attempt, the latest in a long line of failed attempts, to write a vidmail to Anna. He did not get far. There was a knock, and Marine Murphy stuck his head in, his massive frame filling the doorway.

“Visitor for you, sir,” Murphy announced with a cheerful smile.

Michael smiled back. “Ah, good. Hang on a sec. I’ll just check my diary to see if I’m free.”

Murphy’s smile broadened into a grin. “Don’t waste your time, sir. It’s Lieutenant Armstrong.”

“Oh, right.” Michael scrambled to his feet as Murphy pushed the door open to admit Armstrong. “Afternoon, sir. To what do I owe the honor?”

“Dangerous trait being a smart-ass, Junior Lieutenant Helfort,” Armstrong replied, cheerful eyes contradicting a stern voice. “Not career-enhancing at all.”

“And what career would that be, sir?” Michael responded, the sudden bitterness in his voice ill concealed.

“The one you’ve got in front of you, so pay attention.” Armstrong pulled up a seat. “Sit! We’ve got a bit to talk about.” He waited patiently as Michael perched himself awkwardly on the edge of his bunk. Junior officers’ cabins were cramped spaces and certainly not designed for meetings.

“Ready?”

“Ready, sir.”

“Okay.” Armstrong was all business. “This meeting comes in two parts. The first bit is the formal part. You may record it if you wish.”

Michael nodded. Ishaq’s legal AI had briefed him well. Its avatar-a cheerful, late- middle-aged man with a no-nonsense fatherly attitude to life-had made sure Michael knew his rights.

“The second part I would rather you didn’t, so please enable me to access your neuronics to block recording.”

Michael looked at him in surprise. The capacity of Fleet officers to do and say things that completely baffled him seemed endless. “All right.” There was a small pause as Michael commed the necessary authority to Armstrong’s neuronics.

“Done, sir.”

“Good. Let’s get on with it.” Armstrong cleared his throat. “Junior Lieutenant Helfort. As required by law, I am required in my capacity as investigating officer to keep you informed as to the progress of the investigation. You and Lieutenant Commander Fellsworth are still under arrest. I’ve just received the formal brief of evidence. It’s now up to me to review that. Once I have reviewed the brief and if I am satisfied that no further investigation of any matters relevant to the charges made against you is required, I then have to decide whether the evidence supports a case with enough merit to proceed to court-martial. With me so far?”

“I am, sir,” Michael replied.

“Right. Now, until I have made that decision-whether the evidence warrants a court-martial-nothing changes, so you will have to be patient.”

“Thanks, sir,” Michael said bitterly, “I’m good at being patient.”

Armstrong ignored him. “That concludes my formal report to you. Do you have any questions?”

Michael shook his head. “None, sir.” What was the point? The process was the process.

“Good. . neuronics stopped recording?”

“Stopped, sir.”

“Let me check. . right, that’s done. Okay, Michael. Now for the unofficial part.”

“Hope it’s better than the official part.”

“Oh, yes, I think it is. First, the brief of evidence. How can I put it? ‘Useless’ is probably the most charitable description, and cert-”

Michael’s eyes opened wide in shock. This he had not expected. “Useless? You mean it won’t support the charges?”

“Got it in one try, Michael. No, it won’t, and that means the chances of this business making it to trial are nil. And by the way, the legal AI agrees. Took him five minutes to rip it apart.”

“So no trial?” Michael asked hopefully.

Firmly, Armstrong shook his head. “No. No trial. Ever. I’m briefing the captain as soon as I’ve finished here.”

Michael sat back to think about that, the enormous weight bearing down on him gone. “Well, what can I say? Thanks for that. It’ll be good to get things back to normal.”

Armstrong’s hand went up. “Not so fast, young man. I will be briefing the captain shortly and will recommend to her that the charges be dropped. However. .”

Michael’s heart sank. Why was there always a catch?

“. . it is up to Captain Constanza to withdraw the charges-”

“Or not?” Michael interrupted flatly.

Armstrong nodded. “If she wishes, she can refer the matter up the chain of command when we return to port. If she does, I stand relieved as investigating officer.”

“Jesus, sir!” Michael protested. “That could be weeks and weeks away. What do I do? Just sit in this damn cabin and rot?”

“Michael!” Armstrong said sharply. “Settle down. Be patient and let us work on sorting this mess out. Getting angry and upset is not going to help!”

“Sorry, sir,” Michael said contritely. He could see that Armstrong was doing his best.

The provost marshal stood up. “That’s it for now. I’ll keep you posted.” With that, he was gone.

Michael sat for a while wondering how Constanza had allowed herself to get into such a mess. He felt a fleeting stab of pity for the woman. She must have been a good officer once. Fleet made mistakes-all big organizations did-but on the whole its record in appointing warship captains seemed pretty good. Michael sat there wondering what had gone wrong, when, and why. What on earth had tipped a competent officer with successful commands of smaller Fleet units behind her over the edge?

His moment of charitable concern was fleeting. She might have been good once, but it was the here and now that mattered. The sooner all this was over and Ishaq got the captain it deserved, the better. The thought that a change of command might come sooner rather than later cheered him up immensely.

There was another knock on the door, and Marine Murphy’s head reappeared. “Sir?”

“Jeez, Murphy. You lonely or something?”

Murphy smiled broadly. “Got to do something to keep amused, sir.”

Michael laughed. He liked Murphy. Even though Murphy was relaxed and friendly, Michael knew full well that the nearly cyborg-sized man would be on him in a split second if he tried anything. Not that he would. He was not that stupid. Michael was small by FedWorld standards, and Murphy easily outmassed, outmuscled, outreached, and overtopped him by margins he did not even want to think about. The bloody man was huge. Any bigger, Murphy would be classified as an illegal cyborg and either reengineered or deported. The FedWorlds were strict about that, but that did not stop people like Murphy-and let’s not forget Leading Spacer Bienefelt, he reminded himself-trying to get within a hairbreadth of the limits.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve told me. Standing in front of a closed door isn’t the most exciting thing to do of a watch.”

“True enough, sir. Anyway, it’s coming up on 16:00, so my relief will be here shortly. Will you be going to the gym?”

“Too true I will. Try and stop me,” Michael declared forcefully. He would take any chance he could to get out of the box he was confined to, and today’s gym session was one he was not going to miss. “Who’s your relief?”

“Corporal Yazdi, sir. I’ll be back for the middle watch.”

“Lucky you. See you then.”

“Will do, sir.”