'Why not? It's the sort of thing he's been doing to us, isn't it? Doesn't Wakeman deserve the same sort of treatment he's given us?'
Paul looked away, unable to bear her anger. 'I'm sorry, Jan. I know what guys like Wakeman have done. I just don't want to end up like them.'
The silence following his last statement stretched so long that Paul looked back at her, finding Jan still watching him, her face working with emotion. 'I didn't want to end up like this, Paul. Wakeman can go to hell. And if you help get him off you can go to hell, too.'
'Jan, I don't want to help him get off scot-free. I want him called to account. There's no way anything I say can exonerate everything Wakeman did.' Her face steadied, but remained unhappy. 'Jan, you taught me a lot of good lessons. I mean it. I don't want you leaving the ship hating me.'
'I don't hate you, Paul. I don't understand you. I'm worried that you're doing something that will let someone I do hate literally get away with murder. But what do you care what I think? I'm Jan Tweed, object lesson in failure for new officers.'
'That's not true!' Paul shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on hers even though she tried to evade them. 'Jan, you taught me a lot of good lessons.'
Her face softened, falling back into its familiar protective mask. 'Thanks. But there's more to being a naval officer than that.' Tweed's face closed down and her shoulders went into their defensive hunch as she turned away. 'I don't hate you, but if you let Wakeman get off free you'll have hurt me.'
'He won't get off free.' Can I really promise that? It seems impossible, but what if he did? I don't want to be responsible for that. Paul watched Tweed leave. Is there any way I could have been true to myself without hurting Jan Tweed, who's already taken enough hurt? Should I have done what I thought was right even if I knew it would hurt Jan some more? Paul already knew the answer to the last question, but he didn't want to admit it to himself, not while he could still see Tweed making her dejected departure.
Commander Herdez faced the officers of the USS Michaelson, who stood in two ranks on the pier just outside the quarterdeck. 'Some of you are designated as witnesses in the court-martial of Captain Wakeman which begins today. Those witnesses will be required to be present each day in the court-room and are therefore excused from regular duty during the court-martial in order to ensure their presence. Since the court-martial is a public proceeding the rest of you are free to attend as spectators on your non-duty days. I expect every one of you to comport yourselves at all times in such a manner as to reflect credit upon the USS Michaelson. Are there any questions?'
Everyone stood silent, their expressions fixed with professional lack of emotion.
'Very well. Dismissed. Duty officers return to the ship.'
Herdez turned and began walking toward the location where the court-martial would be held, a courtroom near fleet staff headquarters. The straight ranks of officers dissolved, the department heads following individually in Herdez' wake, while the junior officers clustered into a few small groups to give their seniors time to get out of easy earshot. 'I'm sorry I'm going to miss this,' Kris Denaldo remarked. 'But duty calls.'
Paul shrugged. 'You won't miss all that much today. A lot of what happens today should be boilerplate legal procedure, the sort of stuff they do in every trial.'
'How do you know that?'
'It's in the Manual for Courts-Martial.'
Jen speared Paul with an intent look. 'Have you changed your mind?'
'About testifying for the defense? No, I haven't changed my mind.'
'Not worried, huh?'
'Right, Jen. I'm not worried. I'm terrified.'
'But you're doing it anyway, huh? Well, good luck.'
Paul stared at her, surprised. 'Really? I thought you thought I was an idiot for doing this.'
'I changed my mind. Listen, I may have to bail out of the court-martial early today because of a test being run on some of my gear. Make sure you look me up when you get back to the ship.'
'Sure.'
They all followed after the senior officers, catching up with them outside the entrance to the court room. The separate groups of officers stood around awkwardly until the court's bailiff cracked the door. 'You may all enter now. Witnesses should sit in the front row of seats. All spectators must be seated behind them.'
Paul found himself suddenly worried that the front row would be so narrow that he'd find himself shoe- horned between Garcia and Herdez, but there were enough seats that everyone was able to sit at least one seat away from anyone else.
He glanced around the room, trying to calm himself. Relax. You aren't going to be doing anything for at least a day or two. They have to run through all the stuff they always do at the start of a court-martial, then the prosecution will call all its witnesses, and only then will I be called. No sense sitting on the edge of my seat the whole time.
Front and center in the courtroom sat the judge's bench, elevated above the rest of the tables and seats. Two doors in the back of the room presumably led to the judge's chambers and to the room where the members of the court would wait and relax. On one side of the room, angled to face the area just before the judge's bench, a long table draped with a Navy blue tablecloth and equipped with five chairs was obviously intended for the senior officers who would serve as the members of the court. Facing the judge's bench on either side were the two tables where the trial counsel and the defense counsel would be seated, as well as Captain Wakeman himself at the defense table. A few meters behind those tables the ranks of witness and spectator chairs began, an aisle up the center left clear.
Somewhere, invisible in the gray uniformity of the walls around him, fiber optic lenses allowed cameras to not only record the entire trial, but also provide a means for remote observers to monitor the court-martial as well. Carl says the SASAL observers weren't allowed in the court room because Admiral Fowler threatened to raise hell, so they ginned up the excuse that classified material might be discussed and made the SASALs watch from a remote site with a video feed that could be censored. Just as well. I sure don't want them in here making me feel even guiltier about what we did to that ship than I already am.
Paul twisted around to see the rest of the room, seeing the other junior officers seated several rows behind him against the back wall of the court room. Carl Meadows caught his eye, then he, Mike Bristol and Jen each raised a hand to wave at him while they grinned inanely like merry vacationers on tour. Paul grinned back, shaking his head. Thanks, guys. Glad to know you're with me, even though none of you seem to think I know what I'm doing.
The main entry door opened again. Commander Wilkes, the trial counsel, strode rapidly up the aisle and to his table. A few moments later, Lieutenant Commander Garrity entered, with Captain Wakeman following close behind her. The courtroom, already quiet, seemed to lose every trace of sound as Wakeman walked stolidly up the aisle, his face fixed in stubborn determination. With a gesture, Garrity invited Wakeman to sit at the defense table, then seated herself. Looking back, she saw Paul and nodded in recognition. Paul almost felt afraid to breathe, fearing the sound would somehow shatter the silence engulfing the court room.
The bailiff walked to the front center of the room near the judge's bench, the eyes of everyone in the room on him, and cleared his throat as if he needed to do so to attract attention. The sudden sound came as a relief, and Paul inhaled deeply. The bailiff scanned the room to ensure he had everyone's attention. 'When the military judge enters, I will announce 'All rise,' and everyone is to rise. The military judge will instruct everyone to be seated. When the judge directs me to summon the members of the court, everyone should rise once again. The military judge will once again instruct when you are to be seated. Are there any questions?'
After waiting a moment, the bailiff went to the side entrance, cracked the door, and spoke briefly in a low voice, then came back to stand near the judge's bench, looking toward the side entrance. As the door swung open wider, the bailiff faced forward. 'All rise.'
Everyone in the room stood, waiting as Captain Holmes strode to her bench and sat down before looking around. 'This Article 39 (A) session is called to order. You may be seated.'
Commander Wilkes stood. 'The court-martial is convened by general court-martial convening order 0312, Commander, United States Space Forces, copies of which have been furnished to the military judge, counsel, and the accused. The charges have been properly referred to the court-martial for trial and were served on the
