by Ryk Brown
The nobles took their seats in the jury box. Casimir cleared his throat, then turned on his microphone. “Members of the jury, have you completed your deliberations?”
Lord Banning, the most senior member of the jury stood to respond. “Yes, we have.”
“As to the charge of treason against Lord Dahra, what is the count?” Casimir asked.
“The count is split, twenty-four to twenty-four.”
Casimir closed his eyes to hide his disappointment from the audience. “As to the charge of treason against Lord Tammer, what is the count?”
“The count is split, twenty-four to twenty-four,” Lord Banning replied.
“And the charge of treason against Lord Markly, what is the count?”
“Again, the count is split, twenty-four to twenty-four.”
Casimir’s heart sank. He had not expected a unanimous verdict, but he had certainly expected a majority. Now, a more difficult situation presented itself. He had no doubt that the nobles had sought to test his resolve, but they had done so at the expense of not only three of their fellow nobles, but also that of a child… his child.
Casimir took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on those of his last remaining child. “I shall not speak of my disappointment in the noble houses of Takara, nor shall I speak of the points of law that make twenty-four of your decisions obvious ploys to force my hand. Twenty-four of you have chosen to use the vagaries of Takaran law and the Charter of Torrence to steer the events in the direction of your choosing, thus placing me in the most precarious of positions.”
Casimir took another deep breath before continuing. “As the leader of the most powerful noble house of Takara, and the de facto ruler of Takara due to the temporary suspension of Parliament during these hearings, the fate of these three men falls on me. As required, I shall do the impossible, and put aside my emotions as a father who has lost his child, and as a Takaran who has seen his world fall into disarray at the hands of men who care more about their fortunes and positions than the people they are sworn to protect.” Casimir looked at the three defendants. “Lord Dahra, Lord Tammer, Lord Markly… I vote guilty as charged.”
A low rumble of voices rose in the arena.
“You are therefore hereby convicted of treason against the Charter of Torrence and the Government of Takara, a charge for which there is normally only one sentence… that of execution.”
The low rumble of voices grew more intense, rising in volume.
Casimir rose, walking around the bench and down the stairs to the floor below, as he spoke to those in attendance as well as the recently convicted nobles. “However, in the interest of peace, I offer you a concession. Admit your guilt now, before your fellow nobles and the people of Takara, and I shall spare the fortunes of your respective houses, allowing them to be passed on to your successors upon your execution, all without loss of position within Takaran society.”
Casimir walked toward the three convicted nobles, becoming more empowered with every step. “Refuse my offer, and your fortunes shall be sacrificed. Your families shall become commoners, without resource or position, most likely forced to work as servants in other noble houses. Refuse my offer, and your names shall forever carry disgrace.” Casimir’s voice become strong, and full of conviction. “Refuse my offer, and your executions shall be swift and immediate.” He stopped no more than two meters from Lord Dahra. “How say you, Lord Dahra?”
“You wouldn’t dare carry out such an execution!” Lord Markly proclaimed.
“You forget, Lord Markly, I have killed before… on many occasions, in fact, and never with more hatred than I carry at this moment,” Casimir said through gritted teeth.
“Markly is correct,” Lord Dahra stated calmly. “If you kill us, you risk a civil war, the likes of which Takara has never seen. In fact, I doubt you will find anyone willing to carry out the execution.”
“Then perhaps I shall do so myself,” Casimir replied. He moved directly in front of Lord Dahra, standing less than half a meter away. “How say you, Lord Dahra? Are you willing to confess your crimes? Are you willing to save your name and your family? Are you willing to save Takara from itself?”
Lord Dahra looked Casimir in the eye, then spoke with utter calm. “I stand by my innocence, as well as the innocence of my fellow nobles.”
“As you wish,” Casimir replied with equal calm. He put out his right hand, angling it slightly behind him. “Officer of the Guard, your weapon.”
Another rumble went up throughout the arena as the officer of the guard stepped forward.
“My lord, are you sure you…”
“Your weapon,” Casimir repeated. The officer pulled his energy pistol from his holster and handed it to Casimir, then took a step back.
The crowd became louder, not believing what they were seeing.
“Lord Dahra, Lord Tammer, Lord Markly. You have been convicted of treason against the people of Takara, and the Charter of Torrence. For this charge, the sentence is death, swift and immediate.”
“If you kill us,” Lord Dahra said under his breath, “we will become martyrs, and those who believe as us will rise up against you.”
Casimir raised his weapon and took aim at Lord Dahra’s face. “I’m counting on it,” he muttered as he pulled the trigger. His weapon fired, sending an energy bolt between the eyes of Lord Dahra. The weapon was set to a low power setting, just enough to kill instantly, but not enough to cause a gruesome spectacle. He immediately took aim at Lord Tammer and fired, then Lord Markly.
The crowd erupted in equal parts objection and approval. “I shall not tolerate those who cannot follow the laws laid down by the so-called noble houses of Takara centuries ago!” Casimir proclaimed, turning slowly as he spoke to all those in attendance. He then turned to the forty-eight nobles standing in the jury box, their mouths still agape. “Follow me, and I shall fight and die for each of you! Challenge me, and you shall die by my own hand!”
Without another word, Casimir turned to exit, handing the weapon back to the officer of the guard. He looked at Major Bellen, who was already rushing Deliza and Yanni out of the arena. The fuse had been lit. Now he just had to wait for the explosion.
* * *
Loki sat in the pilot’s briefing room, spinning his stylus on the desk in front of him. It had been a grueling day, with knowledge tests, orals, and flight tests that had started at sunrise and continued nonstop through to evening. He had finished his last test flight more than an hour ago, and could be lying in his bunk, but instead he had chosen to wait for Josh. They had come this far together, and it only seemed right that they learn their respective futures in the Alliance the same way.
Loki knew that he had most likely passed the knowledge and oral tests, as such things had always come easily to him. He was also fairly certain that he had passed the flight tests as well, as despite the fact that his flying had been average, he had not busted any of the performance limitations. What he was more concerned about was Josh. His friend would undoubtedly pass the flight tests, but the knowledge tests, and especially the oral tests, might be another story altogether. It had taken Josh weeks to understand some of the most basic mathematical formulas needed, and even longer to get a good grasp of meteorology and aerodynamics. Josh was a ‘throttle to the stops and blast through it’ kind of pilot, which was not what the Corinari preferred.
The door swung open, and Josh came bursting into the room in his usual fashion, as if expecting everyone present to go ‘yeah, Josh is here.’ It was a trait that Loki had always found somewhat annoying, although he had learned to ignore it for the most part.
“You’re still here,” Josh exclaimed as he dropped his flight gear and continued into the room. “I figured you’d be passed out on your bunk by now.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I know our results,” Loki replied. “How did you do?”
“Flight test was a snap. I did like you said, and tried to fly like you. I think what I gave them was a mix… you k
now, a little you and a little me. The you in me kept me from being too much me, if you know what I mean. And the me in me kept me from being too…”
“I get it,” Loki interrupted.
“How did you do?” Josh asked as he sat down on the desk in front of Loki.
“I think I did okay.”
“Did you fly a little like me?” Josh wondered.
“No, I was afraid to.”
“Wuss.”
“Pretty much,” Loki conceded. “How did you do on the knowledge test?”
“I’m trying to forget about that,” Josh replied. “Hey, what did you answer for that question about… what was it… thrust vector angle change rate, or something like that?”
“Thrust vector sweep rate. One seven five aft, one two zero forward.”
“Shit. Guess I’m headed back to Haven.”
“That’s only one question, Josh. There were two hundred questions on that exam.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not the only one I got wrong. Plus, I may have mouthed off a bit during my orals.”
“You didn’t insult the examiner, did you?”
“Not directly,” Josh said. “I just said any idiot knew that. Turns out, he didn’t… therefore…”
“Josh…”
“Hey, I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
“Or bored, or excited, or angry…”
“Alright, I get your point.” Josh patted the pockets of his flight suit, looking for something. “I’m starving. You got any of those nut bars left?”
Loki pulled one out of his pocket and tossed it to Josh. “My last one.”
“Thanks,” Josh said as he tore the wrapper open and took a bite. “Hey, if we fail, do you think they’ll give us a ride back to the Pentaurus cluster, or do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
“I’m sure they would give us a ride back, eventually. More likely we’ll go back to chauffeuring Abby to and from work.”
“No way. Don’t get me wrong, I like Abby, but that is about the most boring job there is.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Hell, I’d rather go back to flying a harvester,” Josh exclaimed. “At least that was actual hands-on-the-controls flying.”
The door opened again, and Major Prechitt entered the room. Josh stuffed the last of the nut bar into his mouth as he slid off the table and stood at attention next to Loki.
“As you were, gentlemen,” Major Prechitt said as he approached. He dropped his data pad on the desk and pulled up a chair from the row in front of the desk. “Take a seat.”
Loki looked at Josh as they sat.
“I have your test results from earlier, and I’ve spoken to both of your flight examiners. Normally, it would take several days for the results to be reviewed and a decision made. However, things are not normal. There are only two applicants and this is not the Corinari. Lucky for you, because if it were, neither of you would have passed.”
Josh’s eyes widened. He looked at Loki, then back at the major. “We passed?”
“Technically, no…”
“But you just said…”
“Like I said, times are different. The need is greater, and therefore the criteria are different.”
“Are we in or not?” Josh wondered.
“Yes, you are in. You are no longer cadets. You are now both ensigns in the Alliance.”
“Yes!” Josh leaned back in his chair, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks.
Loki did not look as excited. “In what areas were we deficient?”
“It’s not as much a matter of deficiency,” the major explained. “You both demonstrated acceptable levels of knowledge and expertise, as well as the minimum necessary skills to serve as pilots and officers within the Alliance.”
“But you said we would not have passed had this been on Corinair?”
“I also said that this was not a normal situation.”
“So, we’re in because you have no one better,” Loki surmised.
“Who cares? We’re in,” Josh exclaimed.
“I care,” Loki insisted.
“The Corinari was composed of only the best. The requirements were so high that there were years where none of the applicants were accepted. The difference is that the Corinari were not facing a crisis, and therefore could afford to be far more particular about their applicants. The Corinari believed in a small, highly trained, exceptionally talented force. Such is not the case with the Alliance. To put it bluntly, we need butts in the cockpits. The Karuzara has at least thirty more Falcons coming off the line in the next few months. They’re useless to us without crews. So now, we look more for potential than qualifications.”
“I see.”
“You don’t look happy, Ensign Sheehan,” Major Prechitt said.
“I had hoped to score higher, I guess.”
“Well, on the knowledge tests, you scored extremely high. High enough, in fact, that you would have been accepted even by the Corinari. However, your flying, while adequate, showed little in the way of instinct. You flew proficiently, executing every maneuver per protocol. That is good enough for the Alliance, but it would not have been good enough for the Corinari.” The major looked at Loki. “This was to be expected, considering your original training was for flying commercial shuttles.”
“I told you to fly like me,” Josh said.
“Ensign Hayes, on the other hand, barely squeaked by on the knowledge test and orals. Had it not been for his exceptional piloting skills, he would not have been accepted. The bottom line is that you both have talents that the Alliance needs. We knew that from day one, otherwise we wouldn’t have offered you a position.”
“So you knew we’d pass?” Josh wondered, looking confused.
“It was never a matter of pass or fail with either of you,” the major replied. “You had already demonstrated your skills under considerable duress. Hell, you two have more combat stick time than most Corinari pilots. We only dangled the specter of failure over your heads to motivate you… actually, more Josh than you, Loki…”
“What?” Josh exclaimed.
“…We always wanted both of you in the Alliance. We just needed you to complete some form of training so that you could operate as part of a team, rather than as a rogue ship pulling off the impossible.”
“Can I just confirm a few things here?” Josh asked.
“Of course.”
“Are we in the Alliance?”
“Why do you think I keep referring to you as ensigns?”
“Okay,” Josh continued, “do we get to keep flying a Falcon?”
“Yes.”
“Do we get to keep flying together?”
“For the most part, yes.”
“What do you mean, for the most part?”
“You’ll continue flying missions together,” Major Prechitt explained, “but we also want you both to help train incoming flight crews.”
Josh’s eyes widened, his head jerking back slightly. “Whoa. I didn’t see that one coming.”
“You want us to train people?” Loki seemed equally surprised.
“The two of you are a great team,” Major Prechitt said. “Each of you brings what the other doesn’t have. For a Falcon, you’re a perfect pair. Wild abandon coupled with natural instinct in the front seat, discipline and analysis in the back seat.”
“Pardon, sir,” Loki interrupted, “but surely there are better choices for instructors?”
“Actually, everyone is going to be doing some instructing. We don’t have that many flight crews left, but we do have quite a few applicants.”
“Do the applicants even know how to fly?” Josh asked.
“Most of them do, yes. Right now, though, we only need about fifty pilots. Thirty of them for Falcons, and the other twenty for Eagles.”
“Then back-seaters in Falcons won’t be pilots?” Loki asked.
“For now. We simply don’t have enough applicants with flight experience. Besides, in order to piece together so many
Falcons, they needed to remove the flight controls from the second seats. Of the twelve Falcons still flying with dual flight controls, eight of them will have the second set removed, and the remaining four will be taken off the combat line to be used as trainers.”
“Is that really necessary?” Loki wondered.
“It is if we’re going to upgrade your weapons.”
“We’re getting bigger guns?” Josh wondered.
“The plan is to combine your weapons bays into one large bay to hold a plasma torpedo cannon. We’re also thickening the outer aspect of your wings to accommodate mini-plasma turrets. So, you’ll need the extra room in the back of the cockpit for the additional weapons control systems.”
“Won’t that create a drag problem?” Loki wondered. “The Falcon is not great in aerodynamic flight as it is. She just makes up for it with brute force.”
“The role of the Falcon is changing. When is the last time you flew from the surface to orbit or vice versa?”
“We always jump,” Josh replied. “Saves time and propellant.”
“Exactly.”
“What about ground-support missions?” Loki asked.
“You’ll still fly them, at least for a while. Eventually, that role will be handled by combat jump shuttles and Kalibri airships.”
“If I’m not going to have flight controls in the back, what am I supposed to do when Josh is being an idiot?”
“Reach forward and smack him on the side of the head,” Major Prechitt said, a smile on his face.
“He’s usually wearing a helmet.”
“Then smack him harder.” Major Prechitt stood. “Congratulations, Ensigns. Now, get some rest. You’ve earned it.”
“Thank you, sir,” Loki said, standing as well and shaking the major’s hand.
“Thank you, sir,” Josh said, following Loki’s example.
Major Prechitt turned and left the room. Josh turned to Loki and hugged him. “Thanks, Loki,” he said. “I never would have made it without you.”
