“Well, sure. I suppose he had plenty of information. After all, he was sitting safely behind a computer console here on Earth.” Anastasia grimaced, mentally chastising herself for her thinly-veiled insult.
“And is it conceivable that any of this information could have affected your decision?”
“What could he possibly have known that would have changed what I had to do? The Vr’amil’een were slaughtering innocent people. I had a chance to stop them. What other ‘information’ would you need to know? What other data would you have needed to go save those people, Daniel? And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have.”
Justice Atgard paused a moment, his eyes unreadable. “What I would have done is not the issue.”
“Isn’t it? Could any of you honestly tell me that you would have watched those people die?”
“Are you aware, Captain,” Daniel continued, “that as a result of your disobedience, the vital moon of Denegar was captured by Vr’amil’een forces?”
Anastasia replied quietly, noting that the other two Justices made no move to speak. “Yes.”
“Are you also aware that over two thousand Confederation personnel were killed in that assault? Are you aware that, without those vital Duopasqualonium ores, innumerable military and civilian lives may be sacrificed? Are you, indeed, aware that, at this very moment, a mission is under way to retake Denegar? Are you aware that not all of those brave soldiers will survive the assault?”
“But they were being butchered!”
“Are you aware, Anastasia, that two of your closest friends are fighting for their lives at Denegar right now?”
Captain Mason gritted her teeth, and the words gave her pause. A tense silence settled over the spacious room. “If they were here, sir, both Dex and Zach would testify that I had no choice but to do what I did. They’d have both done the same thing.”
Justice Atgard rubbed his temples meditatively. “If they are fortunate enough to return home, Captain, perhaps we can ask them.”
There was a long silence in the room. Anastasia stared unblinkingly at Daniel, trying to read his thoughts. But his gaze was unreadable, detached, professional. She knew—she had always known, really—that Daniel would not give her any special favors, not treat her or her case any differently. And she would not have had it any other way.
Justice Atgard looked to his two colleagues, apparently to make sure they had no further questions. “Captain Mason,” he continued after a brief pause, “do you have any final statements you would like to make?”
Anastasia stared into the table for a moment, drawing a heavy breath. She straightened herself and looked directly at the Justices. “I realize that, due to my actions, there have been serious consequences—consequences I may or may not have been able to prevent had I followed the Fleet Admiral’s orders. And I must take responsibility, both for my actions and for the results thereof. I also understand the importance of following orders and the necessity of obedience in military situations.”
Anastasia fought to prevent her lips from curling into a snarl. “But I could not in good conscience have followed that order. I could not have left innocent civilians to be butchered at the hands of a Vr’amil’een army. Orders from above must be treated with deference, but must not be treated as beyond scrutiny. Armies of unquestioning zombie followers have been responsible for some of the most shameful episodes in the history of mankind. Could the Korgian Annihilation have been prevented if a few officers had refused to follow an order they knew in their hearts to be immoral?” She leveled her gaze directly at Atgard. “Would the Creelarians still be here today had one brave Admiral not refused an order he knew to be unjust?
“Answer those questions before you answer the question of what is to be done with me.”
Daniel stared at her for several long moments. “This tribunal is in recess. We will reconvene tomorrow with our decision.”
With that, the three Justices rose, leaving Anastasia alone with three hundred spectators and her own unsettling thoughts.
. . . . .
The dropshuttle hit the moon’s surface hard, and Dex’s team sprang from the vehicle as soon as the hatch had slammed open. Dex emerged into a concealing cloud of thick gray dust, which made visibility through his plasticite faceplate nearly impossible. He ran blindly, heading for a narrow ridge that separated his team from the ground base. The dust cleared, and the Commander slid along the ground into the shallow ravine at the ridge’s base.
Dex’s team followed behind him, crouching behind the low wall and scanning the moon’s surface for resistance. There were no Vr’amil’een on the surface, and his readings indicated that even the gun emplacements Zach had expertly removed had been automated.
“Let’s move,” Dex barked into the headset, and sprang to his feet, using the moon’s lower gravity to help hurdle him over the ridge. He keyed his suit’s gravity boots to keep himself anchored to the small moon, and ran toward a small mountain up ahead. There was no resistance as his team approached the cliff face, and Dex scanned the outcropping to locate the exhaust duct, ten meters above.
“You don’t suppose the lizards have found the blueprints to this place yet, do you?” asked Zip over the headset. “It would be mighty inconvenient if there was a squad of foot soldiers waiting for us when we came in.”
“I don’t think so,” Dex replied. “They keep these ducts pretty well hidden precisely because they don’t want anyone doing what we’re about to do.” Dex looked up the mountain to where the invisible opening was. “Follow me up.”
Commander Rutcliffe disengaged his grav boots and climbed easily up the cliff. He reached the designated spot and keyed his nanocomputer to deactivate the chameleon tarp that disguised the opening. A small section of the mountainside shimmered and faded to a drab gray, still almost undetectable against the similarly-colored terrain. Dex carefully removed the tarp and peered down the duct, using his nanocomputer to scan for life forms. Satisfied, he hoisted himself over the hole and dropped down, buoyed slightly by a draft rising from within the mountain.
Dex dropped into a combat crouch, gripping his phaser tightly as he spun around. He had descended into a darkened crevice, illuminated only by a faint shaft of light permeating the darkness from above. One by one, his men entered the duct, the last pair remaining by the opening to await their return.
His helmet’s night vision system was unable to pick out much in the pitch-black tunnels beneath the base. The walls of the mine emitted neither heat nor radiation, and only the faint lines of glowing Duopasqualonium ore hidden within them gave Dex any guidance as he picked his way toward the base.
Dex cleared a corner and checked his nanocomputer to confirm that he was nearing the underground entrance to the mining base. The Duopasqualonium had thinned out this close to the entrance, making navigation more difficult. He halted his team and scanned the area for life forms.
His nanocomputer showed a pair of faint readings several meters up the tunnels, but he could not tell if they were miners or guards. He switched off his night vision system and could see a dim red glow emanating from around the corner. He motioned for his team to remain where they were and he quietly inched his way up the tunnel.
Dex set his phaser to silent as he neared the bend in the tunnel, sacrificing power for stealth. He leaned around the corner and fired off several quick shots, catching the Vr’amil’een miners by surprise and eliciting little more than a muffled thump as they collapsed to the ground.
He used his nanocomputer to signal for his men to rejoin him, and crept farther along the tunnel, now moderately lit by fixtures attached to the walls at regular intervals. A stronger reddish glow was evident up ahead where the tunnels met the mining base itself. Surprisingly, Dex could not detect any life forms, so he rounded the corner into an empty room. He proceeded cautiously forward, the ground giving way to metal floor. The room had two exits, and he directed Zip to lead half his team down one corridor as he led the remainder down the other.
The doors to the room were, predictably, closed, and Dex motioned for his men to be ready as he keyed the opening sequence through his nanocomputer. His team lined the hallways along both sides of the doors, and as they swished open, Dex streaked into the room, firing his phaser at a pair of surprised guards near the door. His men covered him from the door’s opening, and a pair followed him into the room, laying down covering fire as Dex dove behind a console. The room was filled with Vr’amil’een—sixteen, by Dex’s quick approximation—most of whom were armed.
It did not take long for the startled Vr’amil’een to return fire, and the room had erupted in gunfire within moments. The initial volley had taken its toll on the Vr’amil’een, however, and Dex guessed that approximately half a dozen guards were returning fire as he and two of his men crouched behind the console and the other pair hid outside the open doors.
Suddenly intermixed among the sounds of gunfire in the room were the sounds of Confederation phasers. Dex looked back to the door where his men still hid, belatedly realizing that the other half of his team had entered through the other doors.
Dex sprang up from behind the console, firing at the backs of several Vr’amil’een who had turned to face the new threat. Caught in a crossfire, the remaining guards were gunned down, and fell to the ground with anguished grunts. Dex trained his phaser on the remaining unarmed Vr’amil’een, who made no move to resist. He motioned for his team to secure the remainder of the base as he surveyed the room. Two of his men were down, one dead and one wounded critically. Dex winced as he knelt by the wounded man, Sergeant McNeill, holding his hand as he reached for his medpack.
“There must be a surgeon droid in this base somewhere,” Dex shouted. “Find it!”
Two of his men raced out the doorway to search for the base’s medical facilities. Dex kept hold of McNeill’s hand as he trained his phaser on the captives with the other. “Just give me a reason,” he mouthed from behind clenched teeth.
As he did, he felt McNeill’s hand go limp in his.
. . . . .
The audience had been led into the chamber and Anastasia awaited the emergence of the Justices from the small door behind the panel. She checked her chronometer again, wondering if the Justices would agree on a ruling today, or if she would be forced to wait another day to learn of her sentence. This much delay must mean a split vote, she reasoned. Could Daniel be arguing to persuade the other Justices in her favor? Or had he cast his vote against her?
Lost in her thoughts, the Captain did not even notice the silent opening of the door and the emergence of the bailiff. It was the hush of the crowd that caught her attention.
“All rise!”
Anastasia shot up from her seat, banging her knee painfully on the table as she rose. The three Justices streamed out at once this time, quickly taking their seats. The bailiff instructed the audience to be seated and said nothing more, but merely closed the door behind them and stood at attention.
Justice Atgard looked down and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He looked as if he, like Anastasia, had not slept the night before. His eyes were heavy with a profound weariness.
“Will the accused please rise?” he said.
Anastasia did so, this time more slowly and with a fair degree more care. She stiffened her back and looked to the panel.
“There can be no doubt that this decision has been one of the most taxing of my career,” Atgard began. “To remain perfectly neutral while I rendered judgement upon one of my closest friends was perhaps the single most difficult thing I have had to do since I have chaired this Committee. To decide a case that evokes so much similarity to my own actions ten years ago was a formidable task. And to rule on so weighty an issue was a grave responsibility.”
The other Justices nodded solemnly.
“But this tribunal has come to a decision.”
Anastasia felt her knees weaken, but she firmed herself, hoping the grit of her teeth was not evident to the Justices.
Justice Atgard continued. “If we are to have an effective military, and one that must be held accountable for its actions, we can expect—or, rather, demand—that its officers be aware of and be responsible for the possible consequences of their decisions.”
Anastasia fought to remain standing. She felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.
“However, neither Captain Mason, nor any other Confederation officer, can be expected to have such omniscient knowledge of the results of their actions that every possible consequence be held against them and every decision they make be second-guessed after the fact. Though the orders of commanding officers must be treated with supreme deference, this tribunal is unwilling to mandate that they be followed at all costs. Though we have split on this ruling, there is no doubt in any of our minds that Captain Mason, at the time of her decision, aimed to best serve the Confederation and the people who comprise it. Though, with the benefit of hindsight, we can see that the consequences of this action have indeed been crippling, we shall not multiply them by sanctioning or removing one of the Confederation’s finest officers. Captain Anastasia Mason, you have been found innocent of the charges brought against you, and you shall be reinstated to your former position without delay.”
Daniel Atgard allowed himself the slightest of smiles in Anastasia’s direction. “This tribunal stands in recess.”
* * * * *
CHAPTER 11
The engines whined in protest, but the ZF-575 handily outraced her pursuers, speeding away from Denegar. Zach spun the ship around and took a moment to check the tactical displays. The remainder of his squadron was performing admirably, swooping in on the larger ships and retreating before taking any serious damage.
Commander Wallace looked to a Vr’amil’een Corvette at the near edge of the enemy formation. The ship seemed to be taking the brunt of his squad’s attack. “Halcyon, form on my wing,” he called. “Keep the snubs off me.”
“Affirmative, Wolfman.”
Zach armed his Hellfire missile and dove toward the wounded Corvette. As he passed, he poured laser fire along its length, curling behind it and targeting the engine bank. The ship’s guns scored a barrage of hits on Zach’s fighter, but he steadied himself and launched the missile toward the aft of the Corvette. He pulled away before he saw the impact, as a swarm of snub fighters quickly surrounded him, battering his shields mercilessly from all sides. In front of him, a pair of the snubs exploded, and he rocketed through the hole, leaving the rest of the snubs behind.
“Thanks for making me an exit, Halcyon,” Zach said over the intercom. He checked his display to see that the Corvette’s engines had been disabled, and that his squad had pounced upon it, using missiles to finish it off.
Once he was a safe distance away, Zach turned his fighter back to the battle, just in time to see a pair of missiles streak forth from the surface of Denegar, impacting a Vr’amil’een Cruiser and breaking it in two. There were a series of flashes from behind the enemy fleet, and a squad of Confederation gunboats sped toward the Vr’amil’een forces.
“That’s it!” Zach screamed over the intercom. “Dex took the base!” He fired up his engines and headed for the remaining Vr’amil’een Cruiser. “Lay into them before they target the moon!”
Zach launched his remaining complement of missiles and squeezed his firing trigger until his fingers hurt. Though he could do little to the monstrous Cruiser by himself, he had to
prevent it from turning its guns on the volatile moon. His squad had baited it some distance away from the moon—hopefully out of its range—and had to finish it off before it got close enough to destroy the recently-recaptured Confederation base.
As Zach fired upon it, a great explosion tore through the Cruiser, undoubtedly from another set of surface-fired missiles. The Confederation gunboats had come into range as well, and were concentrating massive amounts of firepower on the Vr’amil’een ships. As they came into range, they launched a barrage of missiles against the enemy fleet, decimating their remaining forces. Zach checked his display to find that only two Corvettes had survived the onslaught, and that they were stubbornly returning fire against the new attackers. Several gunboats fell victim to their counterattack, but both Corvettes were quickly silenced, disabled before Zach could even bring himself into range.
Zach took a deep breath as his adrenaline high began to subside. A quick glance to his console showed him that none of his squadron had been destroyed, though a pair of fighters had been disabled and had wisely limped away from the battle. The gunboats were rounding up the surrendering Vr’amil’een snub fighters. Zach popped his flight helmet and brought his heart rate back under control. He looked to the recaptured moon of Denegar.
“Control, this is Commander Wallace,” he said into his dangling helmet microphone. “Patch me through to Commander Rutcliffe, please.”
. . . . .
Anastasia sat reflectively in her command chair, never before so comforting around her body. She took a deep breath, never before realizing how much she could miss the ship’s tinny, recycled air.
The starlines on the viewscreen gave little indication of the speed at which the Inferno was traveling to the Landus System, a strategically important region near the Vr’amil’een border. Though ConFedIntel had no information indicating that the Vr’amil’een planned to attack the outlying system, its importance, proximity, and relative lack of defense made it a tempting target. With all available forces spread out fighting the Vr’amil’een, protecting shipping lanes from attack, and defending major population centers, the Inferno would be the centerpiece of a badly-underpowered defense force.
Declination Page 11
