“Well, gentlemen,” said Steg. “Who is going to straighten out this little misunderstanding?”
No one replied. Further down the row of cell doors, Steg could see another officer striding towards the frozen tableau. He was a colonel, of the same regiment as the two younger officers. The newcomer stopped some yards away and Steg was surprised to observe genuine humor in his smile.
“I told you, Ranald, if he was a de Coeur, you should have chained and manacled him.” Ranald was apparently now serving as Steg’s human shield.
“I doubt Ranald can reply.” Steg had his left arm tightly around his victim’s neck with his elbow under his chin, effectively cutting off speech, oxygen, and blood flow. He held the stunner in his right hand, ready for use.
“I surmised that was so,” the newcomer nodded. “If you ease off the pressure just a shade, he may be able to resume breathing.”
“And I should be concerned, because?”
“Fair question, in the circumstances. All right. Jailer—Steyne, is it? Yes, take your men and go elsewhere, look after your other victims. I’ll be responsible for this gentleman.”
The jailer was reluctant to obey the instruction.
“Go, damn you or I’ll have you in one of your torture chambers. Good. Take your men.” As the jailer and his men moved away, the speaker turned back to Steg. “A small beginning, I suppose. Now will you let the lad breathe? He’s gone rather a strange color.”
Steg released his hold and the young officer dropped to his knees, coughing and struggling for air. His second captor had scuttled away and was trying to stand. Steg held onto the stunner.
“I did ask a little while ago if someone would straighten out this—misunderstanding.”
“Yes, I heard you. Although I am unsure—yet—if it really is a misunderstanding.”
Steg tensed. The stunner was aimed now at the speaker.
“Yes, you are armed.” The older man was relaxed. He acknowledged the weapon in Steg’s hand. “Undoubtedly you can cause some damage with that stunner. However, my men are loyal, and the survivors, somewhere between here and daylight above these dungeons, would not accept the dishonor of permitting you to leave alive, if you were so rash as to kill me. Now I think you’ll cooperate because I can discern some elements of good sense in you, which is more than I can say for these two.”
Steg accepted the admonition. “Very well.” He lowered the weapon. “I can only say I would like this to be settled and above all would like to be free of these dungeons of yours.”
“Indeed, I understand,” the colonel said. “However, these two—gentlemen—have made an interesting claim. They say you are one de Coeur, wanted for some outlawry or other. If this is all false, I will escort you wherever you want to go.”
“I must dispute their somewhat far-fetched claim. My name is Stephen Ross and of course I can confirm my identity.”
“Yes, I understand. We both know how easily a person can obtain forged identities. Costly perhaps, but possible.” The speaker’s tone contained an element of irony in, as though urging Steg to improve his defense.
“Perhaps I should add that I’m a commissioned officer of the Fleet, due to muster on ss Ziangka, which is scheduled shortly to lift off?” His words dropped into a churning pond of disbelief and consternation.
“Well, well. My lads have landed themselves in a mess this time.” He turned a disdainful glare on the two young officers.
“He’s lying, sir. He has to be.” The less injured of the two had found his voice; it contained a mixture of pain and uncertainty.
“You think so?” The colonel’s mien was foreboding. “This has worsened—it has gone from stupidity to a possible court-martial.” He turned back to Steg. “You can, of course, support your contention?”
“Yes, sir. My name is Stephen Ross and I hold the rank of lieutenant in the Fleet, and I am due on board ss Ziangka by noon today. Assuming of course that I have not been ‘illegally detained and unlawfully prevented from attending to my appointed office and duties’.” Steg quoted the phrasing of the regulations, breach of which could unleash the wrath of the Fleet.
“Lieutenant Ross, Colonel Croix at your service. Would you care to accompany me to my office where we should be able to straighten out this—misunderstanding? You may retain that weapon if you wish.”
“Sir,” Steg acknowledged the introduction. He looked at the weapon. “Thank you.”
“Indeed.” Colonel Croix turned to the two young officers, both now chagrined and belatedly realizing the enormity of the potential penalty their actions had attracted. “You two—you are now under house arrest. Report to the medic and make sure you have no permanent damage and report back to me immediately. Do not delay or try to evade my orders. I’ll continue with my investigations and decide the charges when I have more details.”
The colonel watched them walk off and turned back to Steg. “Come now, follow me.”
Steg followed cautiously; fully alert in case of a further attack by the young officers. He did not altogether trust their colonel, notwithstanding his apparent openness.
“No,” commented Colonel Croix as he led the way. “I don’t think they’ll try anything. For the moment they are too shaken. But if the Fleet disowns you or the computer throws out your identity and you really are a de Coeur, wanted for some Imperial offense, I will have no hesitation in arresting you.”
As this one-sided conversation continued they had moved out of the dungeons and proceeded along winding corridors and up flights of stairs, until Steg lost his orientation completely.
“Now I suppose you would like to shower, get rid of the detritus from that dungeon, change into some clean clothes? While you do that I’ll organize breakfast for both of us.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” agreed Steg
“It can be arranged. Now, come through here—these are my personal quarters. You have my word that no one will harm you here. Of course, you have that weapon.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Steg placed the stunner on a table and hoped he would have no further need of it. He had accepted the invitation aware that while he was cleaning up, the colonel would be checking both his identity and his claim to a Fleet commission. He discarded his filthy evening clothes—he decided white was not a suitable dungeon color—and showered, scrubbing away the stink of the cells. He was changing into the clothing donated by the colonel from unknown sources, when the now familiar green words penetrated his awareness.
*Steg de Coeur. This is Althere Complex. Acknowledge.*
*This is Steg de Coeur.*
*Search program initiated for Steg de Coeur, by Colonel Croix, Imperial Security Force. This Complex provided responses as follows. Negated image was Steg de Coeur. Matched image with Stephen Ross. Origin Anglestar system. Negated dual identity Steg de Coeur. Confirmed Stephen Ross holds commission with Imperial Fleet. Report ends.*
*Thank you Althere Complex. Please continue monitor program.*
So, thought Steg, the colonel had grabbed an image along the way. He finished dressing and walked across to the colonel’s office. He sat on one of the seats outside the door and examined the stunner while he waited.
After a few minutes the door swung open and the colonel beckoned. An orderly had set out breakfast for two. The colonel regarded Steg with a smile of reluctant admiration, tinged with bitterness.
“Well, Lieutenant Ross, Fleet indeed has a new recruit. A very astute one, it seems. My young lads will be more than disappointed. One day, when this is all over, you must tell me how you arranged it, hmm?”
“Thank you, sir.” Steg was about to continue when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Enter,” the colonel commanded. The door was promptly opened and the two junior lieutenants entered, accompanied by another lieutenant and a civilian. Steg thought he had seen the civilian somewhere before and tried to recollect where and when.
“Gentlemen?”
“Sir, Ranald and Gou
ld reporting as ordered.”
“Very good. And you, Hanby?”
“Sir, I have a witness who observed the fugitive de Coeur in sword combat.”
“Who was the unfortunate opponent?”
“Marius of the House of Aluta, sir.”
“Marius? And he lost?”
“Yes, sir. A fortunate stroke of luck on the part of de Coeur, according to the reports.”
“I daresay. The name of your—witness?”
“Terin, also of the House of Aluta, sir.”
“Hmm. Hardly an unbiased source. However, I must disappoint you. A full check was processed just minutes ago, and it confirmed the identity of our guest. I would like you to meet Stephen Ross, Lieutenant Stephen Ross, Imperial Fleet.”
“There must be some mistake, sir.”
“I said a full check was made.”
“Colonel?”
“Yes, Mr. Terin?”
“May I suggest with respect, that your—guest—is Steg de Coeur? House of Aluta has posted a very substantial reward for his capture and it will take a most concerned view—”
“Mr. Terin. This gentleman is my guest. You are a visitor without any official standing and your choice of words is likely to place me in a position where I may need to preserve and protect my honor as an officer of Imperial Security. Are you prepared to permit such a course of events to follow?”
“No, of course not, Colonel. I withdraw my comments and confirm no insult was intended.” The civilian had paled and quickly backed away from his earlier brashness.
“Now please leave my office, Mr. Terin. You have no business here.”
The colonel waited until the civilian closed the door. He moved to his desk and keyed instructions into his workstation. “Consider this, gentlemen. First, I must advise you that these proceedings now are under official record. This meeting and court hearing is being recorded. Officers Ranald and Gould, you stand charged with assault and kidnap of one Lieutenant Ross, Imperial Fleet. You have, in the words quoted by Lieutenant Ross earlier today, illegally detained and unlawfully prevented him from attending to his appointed office and duties. Also, by your actions, you have brought Imperial Security into disrepute. I could add conspiracy, and perhaps other offenses. However, that is enough for you to consider unless you wish me to expand the charges. I am obliged to ask each of you, how do you plead? Oh, before you respond, I need to point out that you can either plead guilty and accept my verdict now, or plead not guilty and then appear before a full court-martial. That could result in a term of imprisonment. Further, if this matter is not dealt with expeditiously, Fleet could claim jurisdiction. Now, how do you plead?”
The two young officers paled. The third officer prepared to interject and decided against such action at the challenging stare from the colonel.
“Sir, I plead guilty.”
“Sir, I plead guilty.”
The statements were almost simultaneous. Colonel Croix turned to Steg.
“Lieutenant Ross. Do you have any comment or objection to my proposed actions in convening this summary trial?”
“No. My only concern, Colonel, is to join my ship. As to the actions of your officers, I am prepared to accept their apologies. However, I’m unable to comment on the reaction of Fleet when their actions are reported there.”
“Your personal response is most generous under the circumstances.” He turned to the two officers. “Gentlemen, are you prepared to offer your formal apologies to Lieutenant Ross?”
The two men, with some reluctance, formally expressed their apologies, which Steg duly accepted. The colonel continued.
“Very well. My decision is as follows. I find you each guilty as charged. Officers Ranald and Gould, you are immediately and forthwith discharged without honor from Imperial Security. You have the right to appeal to a full court-martial hearing. I need to advise you that if you do so, Fleet has the right to exercise jurisdiction in this matter. I should point out, Fleet has very harsh penalties, far harsher than I am delivering here, for this category of offense. Please advise me of your response.”
Sir, I accept your decision.”
“Sir, I also accept your decision.”
“This hearing is concluded. My decisions are final. No appeals have been requested. Gentlemen, I bid you depart, now.”
Colonel Croix waited while the two ex-officers departed with the third officer. He turned to Steg. “Lieutenant, I have just broken the careers of two otherwise promising young officers. Undoubtedly they and their friends will lay the blame at your door. I do not, because their actions were totally reprehensible, and completely outside any reasonable behavior, for an officer of my Force. In the interest of concluding this matter, I suggest you depart for your ship—” A knock on the door interrupted the colonel. “Yes?”
An aide entered. “Colonel, a Fleet officer with an armed escort from ss Ziangka, is requesting an interview with the Duty Officer.”
The colonel, surprised, looked sharply at Steg and back to the aide. “Did he state his business?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, Corporal, you had best show the officer in. Ask him to leave his escort in the outer office.” He turned to Steg as the aide departed. “You must have friends, Lieutenant.”
The door opened again before Steg could comment. The officer was a burly, almost gigantic Chief Petty Officer, and he was accompanied by a very young midshipman. Their salutes were almost painfully sharp and precise.
“Sir.”
“Gentlemen. Welcome. Please state your business.”
The midshipman spoke. “Yes, sir. May I present a Fleet writ? We request delivery of the person of Lieutenant Ross of ss Ziangka, alive and well. Fleet holds sworn statements of reliable witnesses that Imperial Security officers Ranald and Gould, and possibly one other, illegally and without cause abducted and are holding prisoner said Lieutenant Ross without just and due process. Under Fleet regulation 22365, Imperial Fleet charges that said Lieutenant Ross has been illegally detained and unlawfully prevented from attending to his appointed office and duties.” The midshipman completed his almost breathless and rapid delivery and handed a document to the colonel.
“Midshipman. Chief. The two gentlemen you named no longer are officers of Imperial Security. Lieutenant Ross stands before you, unharmed and ready to depart with you. Please convey to your commanding officer my sincere apologies and advise him he will receive attested copies of the court-martial records within the hour. Lieutenant Ross, may I again offer my apology and hope that if we meet again, it will be under far more agreeable circumstances?”
“Thank you, Colonel. Your apology is appreciated.” Steg turned to depart and halted as he remembered he still held the stunner. “Sir, the weapon that Ranald held. May I point out it is inoperative? It’s been booby-trapped. Any attempt to fire it would cause it to explode. The result would be powerful enough to cause the death of the person firing it. I suspect your recent officers were not as innocent as you surmised. However, I thank you for your courtesy.” He turned to the waiting midshipman and Chief Petty Officer. “Gentlemen, we’ve completed our business with Imperial Security.”
The Fleet gig was ready for immediate lift-off, the escort and crew impatient to leave. The midshipman hopped aboard followed by Steg and the CPO. The armed escort deployed themselves in the open-decked craft ready to provide covering fire as they departed. The escort required no conversation, engaged in no idle chat. Every move was carried out with a disciplined efficiency, which spoke of long hours of training. The gig took off with a roar, and also Steg was certain, with a flamboyance that was intended to demonstrate the power and authority of the Fleet. He hung on grimly as the pilot ignored all flight rules and blasted straight for the ship. The flight was less than five minutes and the pilot dropped the gig precisely in the landing bay.
“That will show the pockers,” commented the CPO. “Mr. Ross. Captain’s compliments and would you report to him at seven hundred hours tomorrow.” The CPO
was formal as he delivered the instruction. Then he relaxed as they disembarked from the gig. “Glad you’re OK, sir. We had some heavy pressure applied to rescue you. The pockers should know not to pock with the Fleet.”
“Thank you and your men. And of course, the middie. He did an excellent job. Your arrival was very well timed.”
“Will do. We had probes monitoring your situation, Lieutenant. And while you appeared to be out of immediate danger, we wanted to ensure they didn’t have other pockers waiting for you.”
“Thank you again.”
“Sir, your quarters are on level twelve, quadrant three. One of the assistant pursers will direct you. We lift off in four hours.”
Steg managed to find his assigned quarters after obtaining guidance from an assistant purser. Ziangka was large and Steg, without experience of its layout, thought he could wander for hours without finding his cabin. At last he reached it and was almost overwhelmed by the effusive welcome.
“Tziksis, you made it. Good.”
“Oh master youth officer sir, Tziksis saw you being carried off and with discretion followed. Afterwards found nice beautiful lady friend and then kind Fleet officer helped for your return.”
“So you arranged the rescue party?”
“Only with help of nice young lady, very pretty is.”
“Who? Oh, you enlisted Lorraine’s assistance? She helped, did she?”
“Oh master youth, Tziksis excited is, message forgot.” He handed Steg a small envelope and continued. “Also weapons pack and magic sword with all belongings unpacked and ready are.”
Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) Page 10
