Metal Boxes - Rusty Hinges

by Alan Black

  “I get your point, Ensign. Whizzer, I want you and your team to get everyone not performing other tasks to help you. One — find and pinpoint” with a nod toward Shorty “any possible intelligent creature listed as food stuffs. Two, any war materials and supplies.” He pointed a finger at Numos. “Major, I want you and Ensign Stone to work out a rescue scenario, a resupply mission, and a way to put a dent in that Hyrocanian’s supply mission.”

  Numos grinned, “All that without getting everyone killed, Captain?”

  Butcher laughed, “Well, Dash, if you could work it that way, I would be personally grateful.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Stone stood at attention in front of the captain’s desk. He was dressed in his class A formal uniform replete with a chest full of medals earned for his part in the unfortunate incident at Point Alpha-Beta and his actions in defeating the Hyrocanians and capturing their ship at Allie’s World. He was uncomfortable being in front of Captain Butcher, but not because of the red stripe on his trouser legs. Commander Thomas Butcher was likely to earn his own stripe for commanding the Rusty Hinges behind enemy lines as a Q-Ship, although a hostile shot had yet to be fired. He was uncomfortable because he was on trial.

  This wasn’t the first time Stone was the subject of a captain’s mast. He’d faced a dozen of them for everything from stealing a shuttle from the Periodontitis, to desertion for being thrown from that ship while it was in hyperspace, to mutiny for relieving Admiral Shalako on the Ol’ Toothless and taking command, although that was done by emperor edict. This was the first time he was guilty and that made him more than nervous.

  Captain’s mast was a non-judicial punishment disciplinary hearing. Commander Butcher as the captain could order everything from immediate dismissal from the Navy and prison time, to recommending charges for a court-martial, to demotion, loss of pay, or nothing, should the captain so desire.

  Butcher shook his head as he called the mast to order. An open file hung in the air before him. Its backside was blanked out making it impossible for anyone but him to read it. “Lieutenant Senior Grade Roscoe Missimaya, is it your desire to proceed or do you wish to retract this complaint?”

  Missimaya snapped to his feet, “Proceed, Captain. I feel —”

  “How you feel is evident in your formal complaint,” Butcher interrupted. “Is this report complete or do you have more to add?”

  “Sir, it is complete as far as the issue with Ensign Stone. However, I renew my objection about not including the information about alien —”

  Butcher waved a hand, forcing Missimaya to silence. “I have already ruled that your belief concerning alien influence in the command structure isn’t germane to your complaint against Ensign Senior Grade Stone. If you wish to pursue that course of inquiry, you must do so under separate cover.”

  “Sir, but —”

  Butcher interrupted again, “Exactly, put yours in a chair.” He sighed and tapped his fingers on his desk. “This captain’s mast has three responsibilities. One — and what I think is most important — is to give the accused a hearing to the charges allowing him an opportunity to respond, and to face his accuser. Two, is to ascertain the facts about the allegedly committed offenses. Three, is to dispose of said charges, whereby I can dismiss the charges, impose punishment, or refer the case to a court-martial. Do you understand this, Ensign Senior Grade Stone?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ensign Stone, I want you to understand that this isn’t a trial, although I reserve the right to affix punishment — mild or severe — for your action, or lack of action, as the case may be. Nor can the outcome of this captain’s mast be construed as a conviction or an acquittal, whether punishment is imposed or not. Do you understand this?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You have the right to refuse this captain’s mast and demand a court-martial. However, should you choose that, I am required to confine you to the brig — wait, we don’t have a brig. I would be required to order you to build a brig, then spend the rest of this voyage in there until such a time as enough officers of sufficient rank could be assembled to oversee your trial. Do you still wish to proceed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Son, and I stress this again, you have the right to have a senior officer act as your counsel. They wouldn’t be a lawyer and couldn’t answer for you, but they could render advice. XO Gupta has the con on the bridge, but I could still call for Major Numos —.” He waved a quieting hand at Missimaya. “I have the authority to do this over Lieutenant Missimaya’s objection about allowing a marine access during a navy captain’s mast. Do you still refuse counsel?”

  “Yes, sir. I restate my request that I be allowed the counsel of Master Chief Thomas.”

  “Would that I could, Ensign Senior Grade Stone! This is a captain’s mast with an officer standing as the accused by another officer. Should you be found innocent and return to your duties, having an enlisted person even view these proceedings could impede you or your accuser’s effective implementation of your duties. The master chief cannot be called into these proceedings.”

  Butcher spun the accusation document, giving Stone his first official view of the charges against him. He wasn’t surprised. Butcher told him what they said when he was first asked if he wanted a court-martial or a captain’s mast. Butcher said, “Take your time, son. Read it carefully and review the attached files.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Stone did as he was ordered. The document was clear on its face. Missimaya had detailed his attempts to see the captain three and a half weeks ago and Stone’s willful stubbornness in refusing him access to Butcher’s office. It clearly showed Ell backing Stone’s refusal. Stone wondered what took Missimaya so long. Their confrontation occurred almost a month ago as they drifted and wandered about the Hyrocanian controlled system, gathering information and recording data from ship after ship.

  The report was letter perfect, not a comma out of place. Missimaya must have rewritten and edited it dozens of times. Lieutenant Junior Grade Barnes, as a witness, the other officer who’d been with Missimaya that day, countersigned the accusation. Ensign Tander’s signature was glaringly absent although he was mentioned by name more than once. Stone watched Missimaya and Barnes’s dataport videos submitted as evidence.

  Stone nodded when he finished. “Done, sir.”

  Butcher asked, “Ensign Stone, is this report complete and accurate?”

  “Sir, it’s true on its face. However, nowhere does it mention the timing of this incident.”

  Butcher said, “Lieutenant Missimaya, do you have anything you want to add to the official record or call any witnesses who have not been recorded here.”

  Missimaya said, “I would like to call Lieutenant Barnes, sir.”

  Butcher closed his eyes, “Really, Lieutenant? Are his addendums to this report incomplete? Think about this. We are still behind enemy lines in a very tenuous position and we have other duties that demand our time. It’s your right as an officer to press this point, but let’s not belabor it.”

  Missimaya nodded. “Yes, sir. However, I reserve the right to call him as a witness should any facts in dispute be … um, in dispute.”

  “Do you have any questions for Ensign Senior Grade Stone?”

  “Yes, sir.” He shuffled through a few documents displayed by his dataport.

  Stone shifted his weight from one foot to the other without breaking his at attention stance. He tried to control his breathing. He was guilty and being punished for being right, whether he was guilty or not, was starting to wear on his nerves. He wondered why Missimaya was dragging this out. The man had three weeks to prepare his questions and statements, why was he delaying? Then it occurred to him. Missimaya was trying to strut his stuff in front of the captain, as an audience of one. He guessed Missimaya was one of those irritating individuals who asked questions in meetings, although he already knew the answers, just to hear himself talk.

  Butcher took a clock display from his dataport a
nd set it to hover over his desk. He expanded it so even Missimaya could see it. The LTSG continued to shuffle through reports, ignoring the captain’s not so subtle hint about the time. He continued saying “Hmmm!” or “Harrumph!” over various reports until the captain cleared his throat and glared at him.

  Missimaya asked, “Ensign Stone. Do you dispute the facts on this report?”

  Stone said, “Captain Butcher, I’ve already answered that question.”

  Butcher said, “So you have. Any new questions or comments, Lieutenant Missimaya? And by new, I mean something not already asked and answered.”

  Missimaya nodded, “Ensign Stone, did you order the drasco known as …” his voice faded away as he shuffled through documents seeking a name.

  “Ell, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, thank you, Stone.”

  Butcher said, “It’s Ensign Senior Grade Stone to you, Lieutenant Senior Grade Missimaya. This is a formal hearing. When you and Ensign Stone are drinking cold beers on the patio of the Billy-Bob’s Backyard Barbeque and Booze Bistro on New Alabama, you can call him anything you want. Not now. Rank observances are at the heart of your complaint. You will be mindful of the same.”

  “Yes, sir. Ensign Stone — Ensign Senior Grade Stone, did you order the drasco known as Ell to attack me?”

  “No, Lieutenant.”

  “No?”

  “No, Lieutenant. I called her name, but I didn’t order any attack. In fact, I called her to me to avoid her taking action without my explicit instructions. Ell can be somewhat impulsive at times.”

  “Ensign Stone, was the drasco known as Ell being impulsive when she attacked me with her tail spike.”

  “No, Lieutenant.”

  “No?”

  Stone wanted to roll his eyes, shrug his shoulders, and flip Missimaya off with a single digit salute. Instead he said to Butcher, “Asked and answered, sir.”

  Butcher nodded. “Ensign Stone is right, Lieutenant Missimaya. Let’s skip the courtroom theatrics, shall we?” He looked at Stone, “Rest easy, Ensign Stone.”

  Missimaya said, “Yes, sir.” He played the relevant snippet of video, pointing at it in triumph. “Are you telling me that the drasco known as Ell wasn’t being impulsive and didn’t attack me?”

  Stone glanced at the display. “Ell wasn’t being either, Lieutenant. She is tasked with defending me. Your stance was aggressive as you clearly rolled onto the balls of your feet and clenched your fists. Her reaction isn’t an attack. You’d be dead if Ell attacked you. Her stance and pointing her tail spike at you was an indication she was evaluating whether you were a valid threat or not. The fact that she let me push her tail spike out of the way was an indication that she didn’t think you were much of a threat to her or me.”

  “Yet, you and the drasco known as Ell clearly denied me access to the captain’s office despite my direct orders. Is that right, Ensign Stone?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  Missimaya seemed to swell up with self-importance. “That is a clear admission of guilt, Captain. I think we are done here.”

  Butcher said, “Ensign Stone, do you have anything to say in your defense?”

  Stone said, “Captain, the report by Lieutenant Missimaya is complete and true as far as it goes. However, it doesn’t reference the timing of the action. The Rusty Hinges was —”

  Missimaya said, “I object, Captain. Whatever else was happening shouldn’t have any bearing on Ensign Stone’s disobedience to a lawful order from a superior officer.”

  Stone shook his head, “It doesn’t excuse my disobedience, Captain, but it does explain the circumstances about why I didn’t do what I was told to do.”

  Butcher asked, “Mitigating?”

  Stone thought. It had been a few years since the legal trials he’d attended after the fiasco at Point Alpha-Beta and uncovering a ring of thieves and killers on the Ol’ Toothless. Mitigating circumstances might get him broken down to spacer third class rather than put to death for refusing an order in time of war on the battlefield. “Yes, sir. Mitigating.”

  “Proceed.”

  Stone said, “Rusty Hinges had jumped into this system two days prior. Everyone had been on red alert general quarters for two full days. You had just ordered the red alert rescinded, keeping the crew at general quarters, but allowing division commanders to give short crew rest. You’d given the con to Major Numos and had retired to your office for a quick nap. You instructed me to wake you after forty minutes. You’d only been asleep for ten minutes when Lieutenant Missimaya rang the hatch bell for admittance.”

  He looked at Missimaya. “Lieutenant Missimaya, your video of the incident in question has been edited to remove the part where I asked you if your interruption of Captain Butcher’s rest was an emergency. Do you recall that conversation, Lieutenant?”

  Missimaya nodded, “I do. Your suggestion was that I take my problems to a marine.” He managed to make the word marine sound like an insult.

  Stone asked, “Who had the con on the bridge at the time of your interruption, Lieutenant?”

  Missimaya said, “Marine Major Dashell Numos was acting as third watch commander and I am led to believe he had the con.”

  Stone said, “He was, Lieutenant. Did you tell me that your interruption was an emergency?”

  Missimaya said, “It wasn’t at the time, Ensign. But I believe it is now and is threatening the lives and safety of this ship.”

  Butcher said, “That is a separate issue, Lieutenant. I have already ruled that you must present any claim that I am a puppet of an alien conspiracy as a formal report with documented proof.”

  Stone said, “Captain. I submit that Lieutenant Missimaya wanted to interrupt your vital rest about a subject that wasn’t an emergency.”

  Butcher nodded. “Anything else?”

  “No, sir.”

  Butcher said, “Having heard from both parties and being satisfied that their statements are true and correct, I am ready to pass judgment. Ensign Stone, stand at attention, please. Ensign, by your own admission, you are guilty of failing to obey the lawful orders of a superior officer. Further, as the commanding officer, I have made it widely known that I wish to maintain an open door policy, offering access to any officer or crewmember who believes they need to see me. Do you understand this?”

  Stone’s heart sank. He was guilty and knew it, but to hear it spoken aloud was painful. “Yes, Captain Butcher.” Even at attention, in his peripheral vision he could see Missimaya smirking in victory.

  Butcher said, “Further, it’s within my discretion to determine if the timing is inconvenient or if any subject is irrelevant or frivolous. Such decisions aren’t within the prevue of any gatekeeper, unless the time, the subject, or the applicant is specifically listed. Do you understand this?”

  Stone said, “Yes, sir. I understand that I overstepped my bounds.”

  “Are you then prepared to accept punishment?”

  Missimaya let a snicker of triumph escape.

  Butcher glared at Missimaya and said, “Lieutenant, I thank you for bringing this egregious lack of military courtesy to my attention. However, this complaint is far and away too long in coming. Any further such complaints should be filed in a timely manner.” Before Missimaya could speak, he continued. “That will be all, Lieutenant. You may return to your assigned duties.”

  Missimaya’s eyes flicked from Butcher to Stone and back again. “But sir, shouldn’t I be allowed to be present for the administration of the punishment?”

  Butcher asked, “Why? Surely you don’t wish to revel in the misery of a fellow officer or — the gods forbid — be the master of the whip?”

  Stone almost lost his composure at the mention of a whip. Corporal punishment was still on navy books as an acceptable punishment, as was hanging for certain offenses, but he hadn’t heard of anyone being punished with either in his short time in the navy. Could he take a whipping without breaking down? Could he even stand it?

  Missimaya obviously
wanted exactly what Butcher had suggested that he didn’t want. “No — no, sir, of course not. I just thought that …” His voice faded away as Butcher’s face told him he wasn’t staying. He began pulling his reports back into his dataport.

  Butcher said, “Ensign Stone’s punishment is between him and his captain. I will not subject a fellow officer to the humiliation of a public chastisement.” He waited until Missimaya had gathered up his things and left. Glaring at Stone, he said, “I believe that man would have you submit to a public flogging. I know enough about your medical condition to know your thick skin wouldn’t raise a scar from a whipping.”

  Stone almost smiled. His skin was probably tougher than standard navy whips, thanks to his mixture of drasco DNA and military nanites. It was as tough as inch thick leather. Not that he wouldn’t feel a whip against his skin, it just wouldn’t hurt.

  Butcher nodded, seeing the relief in Stone’s eyes. “So, whipping you is out — not that it was ever really in. However, there are appropriate punishments I can mete out. Are you ready to accept chastisement?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Master Chief Thomas on the bridge,” someone shouted.

  Thomas wasn’t an officer, so no one jumped to their feet or snapped to attention like they would for the captain or a watch commander. As the highest ranking enlisted on the ship, acknowledging the master chief’s presence was a tradition dating back a few hundred years when a woman of similar rank took over a navy spaceship after all the officers had died, saving the ship and crew. No one expected Captain Butcher or the other officers to die, least of all Captain Butcher and those officers, but everyone knew it could happen. No one doubted Master Chief Thomas’s ability to guide the ship to safety, if needed.