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Hawk Flight (Flight of the Hawk Book 3)

Page 16

by Robert Little


  The Gresham was ordered to Nasser3, where an inquiry was to be held.

  Shin Ho got to spend a few precious hours in his bunk, but was back on the bridge far sooner than he would have liked.

  They found no sign of the ships, and after four hours, the Fisk jumped back to the region of Nasser.

  Chapter 28

  Lt. Alexi Tretiakov, the Federal Destroyer Gresham

  Alexi stepped off the ship onto the immense dock. A full commander met him and after returning his salute, silently pointed at a conveyer. Four armed Marine guards stood stiffly to one side.

  He sat on the uncomfortable seat and only then did his escort join him, two in front, and two behind, the officer at his side. Nobody spoke.

  He was taken directly to a hearing. He was charged with mutiny. His counsel pled ‘not guilty’.

  He was then led directly to quarters, complete with an armed guard on the other side of the door.

  He sat at a tiny table and was finally introduced to his lawyer, appointed by the Judge Advocate General.

  Lt. Cdr. Cole told him, “The charges of mutiny have not been tried in a Navy court since the civil war, and nobody alive has much in the way of experience with the procedures. The penalty is either death, or life in prison, so I suggest that you listen very carefully to me, and answer my questions, all my questions, truthfully and to the fullest extent possible.”

  Alexi silently nodded his assent.

  She led him through every step, beginning with the moment he literally stepped aboard the Gresham until he relinquished control of the ship to a full captain.

  It took them four hours. She kept returning to the moment that he ordered the Marines onto the bridge. She wanted to know what he was thinking and even feeling. It seemed his thoughts were important to the case.

  Finally finished with her questions, she leaned back in her chair and displayed the transcript on a convenient bulkhead. Together, they read through the events, causing Alexi to feel as if he was split in two and looking at a simulacrum of himself.

  Finished he asked, “What is your legal opinion?” She smiled, “No court in the entire Federation would convict you, and I would be surprised if you didn’t come out of it with a commendation and promotion.”

  He felt as if an immense weight had just been lifted from his back. He opened his mouth to ask a question but she held up a polite hand and continued, “Lieutenant Tretiakov, your actions saved many lives, possibly many thousands, and helped preserve the Federation’s control of this system. In a just world, or at least a sane version of same, your actions on board the Gresham would be hailed and future cadets would study this case. Since the world we actually live in is populated by politicians and pinheads, and sometimes politicians who are pinheads, any commendation you receive will be sealed, and the true story of the Gresham will be buried so deep nobody, most especially a cadet, is going to learn of it. Captain Korgachani is an utterly incompetent ship captain, but even there, he’ll probably be quietly retired. Very quietly.”

  She looked intently at him and asked, “What do you want out of this?” He hadn’t thought that far ahead, and told her so. She nodded, “Good. Well, you need to assume that you have a career, and that you will have some options as to where you serve out that career.”

  He suddenly understood, and said, “Sir, I…I want my own ship.” She nodded, “Also good. I want you to understand two things: first, this court martial is a necessary evil, but you will survive; second, and less certain, is how well you survive. I have a list of the officers who will sit on your trial, and some are less than stellar. I suggest that you do not speak, do not offer opinions, do not give the time of day unless I am standing at your side and tell you what time it is. I am not speaking of the courtroom, or perhaps better said, I am not limiting my suggestion to the courtroom. If you are prone to speak in your sleep, tape your mouth shut; if someone asks you what you had for lunch, tell them to speak to your lawyer, who would be me. Understood?”

  Alexi glumly agreed.

  The court martial convened an astonishing three days after Alexi’s arrival at Nasser3, and turned out to be highly scripted. Alexi quietly asked her about that. She told him, “The decision was made on Earth and these officers have been instructed how to proceed. That is neither legal nor unprecedented. Meanwhile, please do not speak, do not look interested, and in fact, try not to look interesting. Don’t look bored either.” Alexi told her, “I won’t.” She smiled faintly, “Don’t talk.”

  Testimony was offered by the Gresham’s NavTech, the one who had been on the bridge at the time Alexi took command; by the two Marines who escorted the captain to his cabin; and by copious amounts of bridge recordings as well as his frequent general communications to the crew. Few questions were asked, none directly of Alexi, who felt almost like an observer.

  The lead judge, an actual admiral, gave her ruling: Alexi was exonerated of all charges, and ordered to proceed by the first available transport to Elyse, where he would be assigned to an as-yet undetermined ship. Not one word about Captain Korgachani, whose court martial would happen somewhere else, sometime later.

  The Gresham was still in-system, but all news of the ‘incident’ had been suppressed, with admiralty requiring all officers and crew to sign affidavits that they would never discuss what actually happened. This was a largely futile effort, and everyone knew it, yet the Navy was in something of a hole and wanted badly to keep this ugly news as hidden as possible.

  However, an attack on a federal freighter, with the subsequent loss of life plus a large shipment of missiles; at least one massive theft of additional federal missiles right out of an armory; acts of sabotage against the Bon Homme Richard that killed more men and women and seriously damaged the ship, plus additional highly destructive acts on all three supposedly secure federal bases on Nasser guaranteed that the federal legislature was going to hold hearings, highly public hearings. If Captain Korgachani’s cowardice before the enemy became known, some very high-ranking naval officers were going to receive permanent vacations.

  Alexi’s lawyer met him as he was preparing to embark on a civilian transport. She told him, “As soon as possible, the Gresham will be shuttled off to a very distant system, where it will remain until the present hostilities are over and done with. You, however, will probably return to Nasser as a third officer on a destroyer. You are going to be watched, very carefully watched, but as long as you avoid the slightest tendency to engage in politics, and, as long as you keep your mouth shut, you will receive an early promotion. In fact, precipitous. If this mess persists for longer than a few years, and the Navy continues to build its’ forces back up, you should expect to get your own command within just a few years.”

  Alexi asked, “You think this conflict will last?” She shook her head, “Rhetorical question: how long ago was the civil war? Yes, it is going to last, and my suggestion to you is to avoid a desk or a carrier. You have a future, and for the foreseeable future the best possible future lies with destroyers. Don’t screw up.”

  She shook his hand and with a faint smile, turned and walked away. Alexi watched her, thinking that if there was any justice, she had a great future. Considering her job – she was a high-ranking military officer who just happened to be a lawyer - that career was going to remain on track.

  It took three interminable days to reach Elyse. The system’s Navy installations were jammed with a fascinating mixture of old ships receiving new hardware, and new construction. Nasser’s continuing reluctance to play nice had finally shook loose a few billion dollars.

  Designs for two different fourth generation destroyers had been finalized and hardware was being assembled in orbit for their construction. Several ancient carriers were being brought out of mothballs and the cruiser Los Angeles was reportedly going to be joined by three sisters.

  Alexi reported in, was assigned transit quarters, and forty-five minutes later was ordered to report to the James, a third generation destroyer that was at tha
t very minute taking on munitions, preparatory to boosting out of orbit for Nasser.

  Not only was he getting a destroyer, he was getting one headed right back to the one system where that small ship would get the opportunity to fulfill its’ class name – destroy.

  Chapter 29

  Power Production Technician Second Class Elliot Kana,

  Federal Destroyer Défiance

  Kana sat up suddenly. He realized that someone was gently shaking his foot, and only then did he realize that he was sitting up. He slid his feet onto the deck, knowing the cold would help wake him up, and waved tiredly at the corpsman who had tried to wake him up without getting injured. He’d had another nightmare, one involving his dead wife.

  The enlisted fled. Awake, Kana was predictable; asleep, not so much.

  Shipboard work uniforms were deliberately loose and comfortable, and strangers sometimes thought Kana was overweight. In fact, he was just a big man. As far as anyone on his ship knew, he didn’t have a temper and couldn’t be baited; however, as far as his shipmates knew, he was also close to impossible to push around, outsmart or coerce.

  His normal expression was a faint, disinterested smile that normally mirrored his tendency for helpfulness. The few who had tried to take advantage of that trait found that the exact same smile could hide an almost terrifying understanding of the myriad ways and means by which takers took and abusers abused.

  In those rare instances, Kana wouldn’t yell or even demonstrate much in the way of emotion; instead, he would quietly explain in precise detail why whatever the person standing in front of him wanted wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t threaten, didn’t swear or raise his voice, and he never violated the very strict Navy regulations that prohibited acts of violence, whether physical or otherwise. If anyone had a problem with him, he might, in passing, mention the gym, a location he was known to frequent.

  Kana loved workouts.

  The Défiance was in dry-dock, an anachronistic term that had survived the leap from the oceans of Earth to space. The ship should have been written off, but it had a storied career, one polished by its’ latest return from the dead. The Navy was trying to determine if in fact it was salvageable, and if so, it wanted to get it back into space, the sooner the better.

  The first seventy meters of the outer skin of the bow had been removed, along with portions of the ribs that had failed to protect it from the detonation of a missile warhead.

  Heavy missiles were huge and had a powered envelope of approximately one million kilometers. After traveling at a steady acceleration for that distance, their relative velocity was immense. They had a reasonably intelligent and very expensive computer, and were equipped with excellent sensors, which were designed to detonate the warhead a few millionths of a second before it reached its’ target. The exact number of micro seconds were variable and depended on the relative velocity, allowing for a detonation within a few hundred to a few thousand meters of the target, which of course it didn’t have to actually hit.

  In the normal course of events, if the missile failed to detonate and simply struck the ship, the huge amount of energy it had amassed during its’ voyage would transfer to the vessel, which would subsequently be obliterated. Nuclear weapons were, however, like the ancient game of horse shoes: they didn’t have to actually strike the target. Navy engineers calculated that the missile’s sensors slightly miscalculated and prematurely detonated the warhead. That tiny, tiny error saved the ship, if not all of its’ crew.

  The actual missile had either been in a Navy armory or on board a ship for many years, leading to a new infusion of money into a maintenance budget, allowing the service to test and recertify all missiles over six months old.

  Now, the smashed section of the starboard quarter of the bow was being cut away. Forms were being ferried in from Elyse to grow the missing sections of the ribs, after which new emitters, sensors, cabling and attendant hardware would be installed, then the paneling, flooring and fixtures required by the human operators. Finally, new skin would be reattached.

  The Navy had numerous bone yards full of similar ships, and some of them were donating equipment that was no longer manufactured or easily available. In the case of the Défiance, nearly everything required to return the ship to life was in-system or en route, and the ship’s brand new captain had been promised the ship would be released from the yard within two months, possibly less, but probably more.

  Kana had been working on extending Zerohm cabling into the rejuvenated sections of the ship, but today he wouldn’t be getting dirty. Today, he had an appointment on Nasser1.

  He’d tried donning his full-dress A uniform, the one he wore roughly once or twice a year. Unfortunately, it seemed to have shrunk, making it necessary to acquire a new one. Actually, the material hadn’t changed, but courtesy of those regular sessions in the gym, he had.

  Now, together with three other enlisted, including the NavTech he’d worked with after the missile strike, he stood in a small office of Nasser3 while a very senior PowTech walked around him, grunting in dissatisfaction at his appearance.

  He pointed to the row of medals on Kana’s chest and said, “You’re missing one medal. Don’t you have a Good Conduct ribbon?” Kana blushed, “No chief.” The chief snorted, “You earned the damn thing, so why the hell isn’t it on your uniform? This is my way of saying that if you don’t pin on the medal, after your awards ceremony, I’ll put you on report for being out of uniform.”

  Kana started to open his mouth, but the chief, who stood a good sixty centimeters shorter than Kana, glared up at him and held out a shiny piece of metal and cloth, “Shut your yap and pin it. You’ve got to be at the shuttle dock in five minutes and you’re four minutes away from the aforesaid shuttle dock.”

  He didn’t have to run, but it was a close thing.

  They spent forty minutes circling to the opposite side of the planet’s orbit and docked in one of numerous very large shuttle bays. Accompanying the Navtech, Kana and two corpsmen was Kana’s engineering officer, the single officer from the ship who was alive and mobile. He sported an enveloping brace that protected his broken neck while it knit.

  They were met by a full captain, plus four splendidly colorful Marines, also in their dress A uniforms, the ones the Navy sometimes made fun of, usually regretting it.

  The captain, who just happened to be an actual ship captain, shook everyone’s hand and pointed to a people mover. It took ten minutes to reach the appropriate office, which turned out not to be an office, instead being a small amphitheater.

  Also present were a few members of the crew of the Tillotson and the Fisk, plus one from the Bon Homme Richard. They were all shown to seats right in the front row. They were the only vacant seats in the space, all the others being occupied by an interesting mix of officers and enlisted, plus a handful of civilian, politicians all.

  A full admiral stepped up onto the small dais and the room was called to attention. After being acknowledged, everyone settled back into his or her chair while Admiral Chin looked impatient to get on with it.

  She waited one beat beyond the cessation of noise, and only then spoke, “I have not enjoyed the last two or three years. My guess is that few of you have had many laughs, and for the same reason – war and ruination are once again stalking amongst us.”

  She held out her hand and an aide handed her a glass of water. Those few seconds fairly dramatically illustrated her command authority.

  She took a sip, set it on the dais and resumed, “The years leading up to the late, unlamented civil war were full of increasingly angry accusations, charges, counter charges and the like. At the time, we – that is, the members of the Federation - all thought the rancor and discontent were genuine and perhaps even justified. That discontent morphed into isolated acts of violence and bloodshed, eventually dragging the entirety of humanity into war.”

  She took another sip, “We now know what we didn’t then understand. We know that much if not most of that dis
content was purchased, arranged and planned. We now know that Nasser was the principal paymaster of the events that led us down into war. We now know that a small number of unelected and very powerful men and women on Nasser and a few other systems earned a blood debt that can not be equaled in the over four centuries that we have been in space.”

  “Now, I’ve known for over two weeks that I would preside over this ceremony, and I’ve been doing some research on the subject of blood debt. I had to go clear back to the twentieth century, to before space flight, to before the political unification of mankind to find an instance of worse treachery against mankind.”

  She paused and looked intently at the nearly one hundred members of her audience, took another sip and resumed, “There had been a terrible war, the worst in the history of the planet, called at the time, “The Great War”. It had been a largely European affair and the losers, principally Germany, were punished. Severely. That punishment, along with a number of genuinely stupid economic practices on the part of the rest of the industrialized world led it into an unprecedented global economic depression, Germany into ruin. Out of that ruin arose a charismatic leader, one Adolph Hitler. He used German despair to consolidate power, and within a dramatically few years he held virtually absolute control over one of the most industrialized and educated sectors of humanity. He turned that despair to his advantage, crushed his opposition and built up the most modern, most powerful military in the history of the human race, and all in just a few short years. With the military at his back, he began making secret alliances with a few other nations, and operating in unison, they began an all-out armed assault on what was essentially the rest of the ‘civilized’ world.”

 

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