“Yes, Sir,” replied the security marine, his gaze never leaving Del’Tarim.
Moving out into the room, Crineal stepped to one side and a marine colonel accompanied by another guard followed him into the lounge.
Mind racing, Del’Tarim decided to try and make his cover story stick. “General, Sir. I don’t understand what is going on.” He pointed at Cyndora who was no longer cowering in the corner, but standing straight and looking at him with hatred. “This woman invited me here this morning. She said she liked me and wanted to entertain me.”
Crineal nodded in seeming understanding, “Ahh, I see,” then walked past Del’Tarim and hit a button on the door panel. Del’Tarim heard his voice issue from it, the threats he had made to Cyndora a few minutes earlier being replayed clearly in the silence. The female colonel looked at Del’Tarim with her cold black eyes. He saw that she carried combat scars on her face despite the fact that medical technology could easily remove them. “Doesn’t seem likely does it, Commander?” Crineal said from behind him. Del’Tarim started to sweat. “Colonel Jaynes, would you be so kind as to examine the key card that the commander is holding?”
“It would be my absolute pleasure, Sir.” The tall, well-built marine colonel with very short brown hair smiled at the commander with no hint of friendliness at all as she walked over and took the key card from his nerveless fingers. Studying it for a second, the granite-faced colonel then reached to her belt and unclipped a diagnostic pad, sliding the key card into it. She smiled with grim satisfaction at the analysis it displayed. “Uncoded, Sir. Completely illegal.”
Mock surprise showed on Crineal’s face. “I’m shocked to hear that. Commander? I know you’ll have a good explanation for it.”
Swallowing, the commander tried to think, his eyes darting around the room. “I… I found it on the floor outside, Sir. Someone must have dropped it. I thought it best to retrieve it and hand it in to security for investigation as soon as I had finished my assignation here. I know how illegal they are.” It sounded weak, even to him.
“Most diligent of you, Commander. That does leave me wondering how you actually entered this room when you have no authorized access registered.” The colonel stood in front of Del’Tarim, eyes lit with glee as she listened. “And my recreation assistant was standing over by the kitchen. As the guards and the good colonel can attest, she couldn’t have let you in. Well, Commander?”
“I thought it might be one of your key cards, Sir. So I tried it in the door and it just opened.”
Crineal had to give the man credit, he was inventive. “That’s plausible except you already said that you thought it was an illegal card when you found it. Which also begs the question of how you knew that, when it’s completely unmarked.” The two guards grinned at Del’Tarim. He thought he recognized one from regular duty in the flight bays. Desperately he tried to remember if he’d put the man on a charge. “I think it would be best if I turned this over to the colonel at this point. Colonel Jaynes?”
“Thank you, General Crineal, Sir.” Del’Tarim could swear she was smiling as she spoke. “Commander Del’Tarim, you are hereby charged with possession of an illegal key card, a violation of Article Twenty Three, Subsection Twelve; attempted coercion of a junior crew member in an attempt to gain access to a senior officer’s quarters, a violation of Article Five, Section Nine; and of unauthorized entry into a senior flag rank officer’s quarters, a violation of Article Five, Section Seven. Further charges may follow pending investigations into these charges. Do you have anything to say?”
“I demand a lawyer, as stipulated in the articles of the Space Corps Justice Manual,” Del’Tarim said stiffly.
“You’ll get one, Commander. Guards, we’ll be escorting the commander to an interrogation room. With your permission, Sir?” She saluted Crineal.
“By all means, Colonel. I’m somewhat late for a meeting so I’ll talk to you later. Please keep me informed.” He nodded to the guards. “Gentlemen, I appreciate your assistance. Commander.” He just looked at Del’Tarim. The noble ignored him and marched out, followed by the three marines. As the door closed the general turned to Cyndora. “As for you, young lady, you’re with me. From now until this matter is settled. The commander is a snake and there’s no telling what he might try.”
Cyndora sighed in relief. “Thank you, Crin.” She smiled bravely at him, despite wanting to break down and cry from the tension that had been building up inside her. “Won’t the cockpit of your fighter be a little cramped though?” she asked, thinking about his scheduled patrol.
Frowning, he considered that. “I’ll escort you to sick bay that day where you can keep Lieutenant Feldea company and I’ll request a marine guard from the colonel.” With that he palmed the door open and gestured her through.
The two pilots, Captains Trovas and Linenty, were surprised when Crineal arrived with Cyndora in tow. He’d warned them he would be late and asked them to please study the maps whilst they waited. They hadn’t expected him to turn up with his recreation assistant, though.
“I’m terribly sorry about the delay, gentlemen. It’s been a busy morning. Cyndora’s presence here is somewhat necessary due to earlier events. I’m afraid I can’t go into details and will have to ask you to bear with me.” The two pilots politely nodded their total non-understanding and then the three officers sat down to study the charts. Crineal indicated to Cyndora that she should take a chair and sit to one side.
“So, the admiral wants us to stick our necks out and try not to get our heads chopped off. I thought we’d jump into this point here,” he indicated a spot on the chart, “and then make a slow sweep along this line. Captain Linenty, your four Star Rangers will be spread out around us with sensors on full. At the first sign of trouble, you are to take your ships and make a run for home. It’s vital that any information gets back to the admiral. Ares will cover your retreat, if needed.” Captain Trovas, the second in command of Ares Squadron, nodded. “No heroics trying to support Ares, just scoot. Captain Trovas, we’ll need to make sure that the Hermes pilots get out safely. That’s our prime mission. We don’t know if there’s anything out there, but it’s our job to find it if it is. Suggestions, gentlemen?” He looked at both of them.
An hour later, the discussions were over and the two captains saluted and left. Crineal eased back in his chair and looked at Cyndora. “Sorry about this, Cyndy. There’s a call I need to make now. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, but you need to be in on it. Pull up your chair to just behind me and to one side so you can see… and be seen. Please don’t speak unless you’re asked a question. Ok?”
Nodding her affirmation she pulled her chair over to the indicated spot and Crineal punched in a request for a long distance hyper relay along with an authorization code. A holo display sprang to life and a computer sim head appeared.
“State your name and request,” it said.
“General Crineal wishing to speak with Lord Sar’Clax on a most urgent matter,” Crineal stated crisply.
“Wait one moment, General,” the talking head replied and after a few seconds it was replaced by a human face. The man looked well over middle-aged with graying hair and piercing black eyes. There were some lines starting to form around those eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Even through the display Cyndora felt the man radiated a keen intelligence and she didn’t miss his glance as he noticed her presence.
“Crin, my boy, always a pleasure to hear from you, even if it is a little late here. How’s my favorite Earther?”
Respectfully, Crineal replied. “I apologize for the lateness, My Lord, it’s not even midday here. I’m doing well, thank you.”
“So what can I do for you? You’re about as much for social pleasantries as I am,” His eyes were focused on the general, taking in every detail of Crineal’s expression.
“Sir, a situation has arisen that I think you should be aware of. It’s likely to have serious repercussions, good or bad, depending on how it is handl
ed.” The old man nodded at him to continue. “Earlier today, a Commander Del’Tarim forced entry into my quarters with an illegal, uncoded key card. His intention was to assault and rape my recreation assistant, the one you see sitting behind me.” Sar’Clax nodded minutely to Cyndora. “Yesterday he attempted to coerce her into allowing him access to my quarters with this intent. When Cyndora failed to cooperate he used the key card to open the door and enter. Despite his threats to her on the previous day to remain silent, she had immediately informed me of what he had said and threatened. Therefore, I, the marine colonel in charge of ship security, and two guards were waiting for him when he forced entry. He is now under arrest and is aware that he is charged with possession of an illegal key card, attempted coercion of a junior crew member to gain access to senior officer’s quarters and unauthorized entry into the quarters of a flag rank officer. What he doesn’t know yet is that the last charge is about to be escalated to a malicious intent charge. The colonel is currently making investigations and may have other charges to prefer,” Crineal finished and waited for Sar’Clax’s response.
Staring at him narrowly for a few minutes Sar’Clax eventually sighed. “You never bring me anything easy do you, Crin? I assume that this commander is the son of Del’Herat, our esteemed Imperial Council Vice Chairman?” Crineal nodded but Cyndora felt the underlying sarcasm of the old man’s use of the word ‘esteemed’. “Does Del’Tarim seem to be aware that even as the charges stand it could mean the death penalty?”
Crineal shook his head. “No, Sir, I think his arrogance has blinded him to how much trouble he really is in. I think that he believes his father will be able to buy him out of that trouble.”
Pondering this for a moment, Sar’Clax said, “That’s entirely possible. So what do you want me to do?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
“First, Sir, I wondered if you, as First Lord of the Space Corps, could pack the court martial panel with cast-iron, honest and incorruptible officers?”
Sar’Clax chuckled. “You don’t want much do you? I can do that I suppose, but why? Do you hate him that much that you want to guarantee his execution?”
“You know me better than that, Sir. He’s a total low-life, but I’m not interested in petty vengeance. It did occur to me that if he were found guilty on capital charges, you could use that as leverage against his father for concessions and lobbying in the Imperial Council, suggesting that you might be willing to consider a lesser sentence in exchange for a lot of good will.”
The surprise on Sar’Clax’s face was worth the call. “I’m impressed, my boy. Your political awareness and skills are improving all the time. And what would a lesser sentence be?”
Crineal didn’t hesitate. “Seven years on Dalgon VI.”
“Why not just shoot him instead? It would be quicker.” Sar’Clax’s features took on a puzzled expression.
“Because the offer of parole under incredibly harsh restrictions could be offered after a year of his sentence. The parole offer being conditional on the continued co-operation of his father with the understanding that any cessation of said co-operation or violation of the parole conditions will land Del’Tarim back on Dalgon VI.”
Nodding appreciatively Sar’Clax agreed. “This might help us forward our agenda tremendously. You have some idea about these parole conditions?”
“I just happen to have a data file ready to send you, Sir,” he said modestly.
As Cyndora listened to the conversation she came to realize that although Sar’Clax had a genial air about him, there was an underlying implacable steel resolve. He would do whatever was necessary to further his aims, whatever they might be.
“Of course you do, Crin.” He turned his gaze on Cyndora. “Well, young lady, are you prepared to stand by the general here, despite whatever you may be offered or threatened with?”
Sitting up straighter, Cyndora looked back at him defiantly. “Yes, My Lord. I already owe him far too much to let him down.”
Sar’Clax shook his head. “How do you find such loyal people, Crin?”
“I learnt from my old commanding officer, Sir.”
“Flatterer. Alright, Crin, send me the data file and I’ll set things in motion.”
“Yes, Sir. Good to talk to you again, My Lord.”
“You too, Crin,” and with that the display flickered off.
Cyndora looked at Crineal. “So who is Lord Sar’Clax?” she asked, imagining him to be another imperial noble scrambling for position and power.
“He’s my old commanding officer. The one I was with when we found those ships.” He caught the look of distrust for the nobility on Cyndora’s face. “He was born an average Imperial citizen, rose through the ranks and made a name for himself fighting the rebels. He’s also totally loyal to the Emperor and wants to see the Imperial Council purged of corruption. The Emperor made him a lord for his dedicated service and put him in charge of the Space Corps. He’s trying to clean up the Corps from the outside, whilst I, and others committed to his ideals, are setting examples and trying to do the same from within.” He looked a little dispirited. “It’s slow going but this may give us the wedge we need to make some real progress.” Crineal stood up. “Let’s go visit Lieutenant Feldea and then get some lunch. It’s been a busy morning.”
Del’Tarim was incensed again. He’d been sitting in this room for hours and no one had been to see him. The bitch of a colonel hadn’t returned, no guards had come in and his lawyer hadn’t appeared yet. Just wait until his father heard about this. The door to the interrogation room opened and a commander, sporting the shoulder tabs of the legal branch, walked in with a data pad tucked under his arm.
“Commander Del’Tarim? I’m Commander Junon. I’ve been appointed to represent you.” The slim, hatchet-faced man sat down at the table, facing Del’Tarim.
“Appointed? By whom? Where’s the legal team my father is arranging?” Del’Tarim arrogantly demanded to know.
Raising an eyebrow, the legal commander looked at him coolly. “Appointed by the admiral. External legal advice is not permitted under the Code of Justice. I am your advisor, unless you wish to request that the admiral appoint someone else, Commander.” Junon fervently wished that Del’Tarim would do exactly that.
Fuming at this high-handed treatment of his rights as he saw them, Del’Tarim gestured to Junon, “Then get on with it, Commander. Advise me how we can end this legal charade quickly so I can return to my duties.”
Junon fought to contain his temper at the outright arrogance of the man in front of him. He activated his data pad. “I’ve been provided with the list of charges against you,” and began to read out loud. “Possession of an illegal key card, conspiring with a junior crew member to obtain an illegal key card, bribing a junior crew member to subvert security, attempted coercion of a junior crew member to gain access to a senior officer’s quarters, intent to assault and rape a junior crew member, unauthorized access of a flag rank officer’s quarters with malicious intent.” He looked up at Del’Tarim. “Also contained in the file are the recordings, statements and other evidence gathered by the investigating Security personnel. Having studied this evidence, my advice to you is to plead guilty, claim a mental breakdown caused by stress and throw yourself on the mercy of the court.”
Del’Tarim exploded. “That’s it??? Give in. Claim I’m nuts and hope they let me off? What kind of counsel are you? These charges are nonsense. Utter rubbish. You’ve only got to look at them to see that,” he stormed, face crimson in fury.
Staring at him with more than a little amazement, Junon inquired. “Which charges are you talking about, Commander? As far as I can see they are all legitimate.”
Del’Tarim spluttered. “Coercion and intent to rape a junior crew member for a start. She’s a prisoner, a slave of the Empire.”
Junon shook his head. “You’re misinformed, Commander. It’s a common misconception, but, under the agreement that these people sign to avoid prison, they become members of the S
pace Corps. They are no longer considered prisoners, and certainly not slaves, and they do have limited rights. Therefore, the charges are valid as stated. Which other charges do you feel are wrong?”
“Conspiracy to obtain a key card and bribing a crew member to subvert security. What the blazes are they talking about?” Del’Tarim was starting to feel less certain about his position but continued to bluster.
“The bridge crew tech you obtained the card from has already confessed to providing it to you and is being charged separately. His confession is in the file along with records provided by him substantiating the transaction.” Junon sat there stony faced as he watched the commander sitting opposite him squirm. “I should inform you, in case you are unaware, that the last charge is the most serious. It carries a mandatory death sentence.”
Del’Tarim scoffed at this. “Total nonsense. The only charge we have for that is treason.”
“Indeed, Commander, and in a time of declared war, any offence against a flag rank officer is deemed to be treason.”
“But we’re not at war,” he countered with a smug expression.
Junon looked at him in surprise. “Don’t you ever talk to your father, Commander? Twenty years ago Councilor Del’Herat submitted a motion in the Imperial Council that the fight against the rebellion should be considered a war and that all war time measures should be enforced. The motion was passed and, thanks to your father, the Space Corps has been in a state of war ever since. If you’re found guilty on this last charge alone, you will be shot.”
Reality finally started to seep into the young noble’s brain. “They can’t do this. My father won’t let them. It’s an outrage. The Council won’t stand for it.”
Consulting with his data pad Junon looked up at Del’Tarim once more. “As of one hour ago, the Emperor personally appointed Lord Sar’Clax to oversee this case and to ensure justice is done according to the law. Neither your father, nor the Imperial Council, have absolutely any authority to intervene in any way following that appointment.”
Crineal Chronicles 1: In Hera's Service Page 15
