by Jim Rudnick
In the back areas, he'd been unshackled and allowed to go to the head for a quick five minutes. He tried to use his left hand to comb his hair, but it seemed to have a life of its own lately. His face ... his face was the face of an almost forty-year-old navy man; lines around his eyes ran deep, and there was a slight list of the nose to port from a barroom brawl of over almost twenty years ago too. His blue-gray eyes were still calm, but the whites had some redness still. The remains of his uniform couldn't be much improved, but he tried to shine his shoes one by one on the backs of his pants behind each calf. He sighed to himself in the mirror, straightened up, came to attention, and then wheeled and marched out of the public washroom. Being met immediately by a Provost guard was a bit of a surprise, as he'd seen no military personnel now in the three days since the OneTon brawl.
"About time," he said to himself, and he searched the lieutenant's face for any kind of recognition but came up short.
Nodding to the guard, he was led directly back to the bench on the far wall and took a seat with the other prisoners.
Every so often, the court bailiff came out of the courtroom, called out a name, and then took the prisoner who rose from the bench into the courtroom. The prisoner coming from the courtroom took that now empty bench seat, and then they waited for the process to happen over and over.
Eleven prisoners total, and after five had come and gone, his name was called, and he rose, joined the bailiff, and went through the door.
Impressive, Tanner thought. This must have cost a damn admiral's paycheck.
The beauty of the room struck him immediately.
Large furniture carved from what looked like dark mahogany, wall hangings, and drapes adorned the room. Barony flags were behind the three judges on the dais. Their chairs were tall and covered in blue leather. Even the bench in the prisoners' box was the same dignified blue but in velvet. The room was carpeted in a scarlet red carpet. It looked deep and inviting after that hard steel bunk he'd been on the past few nights. The low walls and swinging half doors were all fitted with brass hardware. Tanner nodded to himself. Bloody impressive.
Off to his left in the public area sat only a few people—no one that he knew, Tanner saw, and that was an isolating thought.
His attention turned back to the right, to the bench where the three judges were obviously having a conference between themselves. One of the judges, the one with the balding head, looked at him and then went back to the discussion, which Tanner noted looked more like there was an argument going on.
The judge in the middle, the one in charge, Tanner assumed, picked up a gavel and smacked it on a small wooden block in front of him.
Off to one side, the same bailiff who had accompanied him into the court barked out loudly, "Order, order ... order in the court," and the talking stopped immediately. Directly in front of Tanner, at what would be the prosecutor's desk, a man rose to speak to the court.
Referring to the files in his hand and then looking over at Tanner, he cleared his throat.
"This is a simple request, honored judges, to hold over the accused, one Tanner Scott, on the charges of drunk and disorderly, creating a disturbance, resisting arrest, property damage over 5,000 dollars in credits, and nine charges of assault with a deadly weapon—all of which occurred—"
BAM!
The door at the back of the courtroom slammed open and in came a squad of EliteGuardsmen, all marching in sync, their boots drowning out the prosecutor. As they took up picket positions, the open doorway was filled with the Lady St. August who slowly walked into the courtroom passing between her guardsmen and then through half door dividing the room to stand in front of the judges. She straightened her scarf, something in a color Tanner thought he'd never seen before, a cross between mauve and something else. Her beige jumpsuit looked stylish and was set off by that scarf wrapped around her neck, caressing her long, blonde hair. She looked like she was ready for something.
She waved the prosecutor away, and he smartly drifted back to his desk but did not sit.
"Judges, I take it you know who I am," she said sweetly, but Tanner felt that steel in her tone.
All three nodded to her.
"And while Captain Scott's not in uniform, I wanted you to know that he is a full captain in the Barony Navy—and hence, I'm afraid that you, the Prosecutor, and in fact the whole Barony Criminal and Civilian courts have no jurisdiction over him. I do. I am the 2IC—the Second in Command of the Barony Armed Forces, and that means that this navy man will be tried, but in military court. Captain, fall in behind my guardsmen, please," she said and turned away.
"Wait—Lady, please, you have no jurisdiction here—this is a civilian matter due to the fact that it happened off base, Ma'am" the Prosecutor said.
"Further, Ma'am, as he has been charged with assault with a deadly weapon, that charge—those eight charges—supersedes any call by the military to apply military jurisdiction to the matter. Ma'am. Sorry to say, Ma'am," he said, and while he was fighting the Lady on legal matters, he couldn't bring himself to look at her. He stared down at his desk. He stared and didn't move.
Helena snorted and then turned back to the bench and held out an open hand, palm up.
She looked up at the three judges and smiled, but even from across the court, Tanner could see the smile was a sham.
The three judges put their heads together again for a minute, and all in the courtroom could see that there was a big discussion going on.
"Ma'am," the middle judge said quietly, "the superior court prosecutor has a point. While normally, yes, the captain would simply be turned over to face the same charges in a Barony military court—the assault with a deadly weapon charges, at least some of them, all mean that he would need to face those charges here, as some of the victims were civilians. Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am, but that is the law—there's lots of precedent here on that, Ma'am," he said and looked down at her.
"It's simple criminal law, Ma'am," he said again in a very quiet voice.
Tanner thought she looked oddly undone. Like she had no answer for that, yet he knew the Lady well enough to know she had to have more to play chip-wise than what she'd played so far. And he was not surprised ...
She turned and snapped her fingers, and moments later, a trio of men in very formal dress came into the courtroom, up the major aisle, and then to her side. She leaned down to whisper to them. While one of them was scrolling on his tablet, another opened up his attaché case and laid out a couple of big, old-style books on the defense table to their side. She talked and then listened and then talked and then listened again, and no one in the courtroom said anything.
Stamping her foot, she smashed her heel down on the thick carpet. Something had upset her, and the conversation grew more intense. She shook her head and wagged a finger at the trio's leader. And then she listened some more. She nodded once more and turned her head to the judges.
"Yes, Your Honors, I do see that. And yes, it appears that your precedents are actually valid," she said, and Tanner could hear her verbally saying she had no faith at all in what she'd just been told, but the law was the law.
"We then are making a—what?" she said and received a whispered answer from the trio's leader.
"Sorry, Honors, we are making a motion—what—never mind, you do this—this petition," she said to the trio leader who nodded and stepped up in her place.
"Your Honors, in criminal and mental health law, sanity is a legal term denoting that an individual is of sound mind and therefore can bear legal responsibility for his or her actions. The official legal term is compos mentis. It is generally defined in terms of the absence of sanity, non compos mentis. It is not a medical term, although the opinions of medical experts are often important in making a legal decision as to whether someone is sane or insane. We therefore petition the court that to establish whether or not Captain Scott is sane would be the first logical step no matter in whose jurisdiction his trial would be held. So we request a ninety-day observation per
iod to be held up on the Hospital Ship, to establish compos mentis, Your Honors. All costs to be borne by the Lady St. August too, if you please?" he said and then they stood and faced the bench.
"Sidebar, please, Your Honors," the prosecutor said, which made the Lady even more upset, Tanner noted as her heel pounded quietly but yet savagely on that thick plush carpet.
"Not even a little," she said, "I want your decision before I put together a list of your replacements. Decide. Decide now," she said and she stared them down.
The middle judge nodded and said simply, "We hereby grant the petition of the accused to be remanded up to the Barony Hospital Ship for the next ninety days for full observation, monitoring, and analysis. Reports to be tendered back to the court for sanity hearing at that time. Costs awarded to the Lady St. August as per her wishes. We are adjourned." He struck the gavel on the desktop in front of him once more.
As the bailiff came over to take him out of the courtroom for the next case, Tanner looked at the Lady who did not return his questioning stare. He wondered what that meant. More importantly was the fact he would now be leaving the care and control of the Neres Police Department and moving up to the Hospital Ship and into the hands of the Barony military. That's a good thing, at least, he thought.
####
That mauve scarf was getting a workout today, as the Lady St. August tugged on it again, which tightened the coil around her neck. She became mad at that, and reaching up, she uncoiled the scarf and threw it at an EliteGuard standing a few feet away. Tanner was surprised the guard caught it, but he realized if he'd have missed it, there would be a price to pay for that inattention.
He smiled at Helena and sheepishly said, "hi," and while he met her gaze, he felt the weight of her stare.
She stared for a moment, then shook her head side to side, walked away a couple of feet, and then she came back to the cell door.
"Captain Scott, you are in a lot of trouble. You either did what you're going to be charged with or you did not. But that is for later—and yes, I will arrange for it to happen in military court."
She came closer to him as he stood in the cell, holding the bars that stood between them.
"More than those charges, we will first need to establish that you are what was that phrase—'compos mentis' if I have it right. And that will, at least as far as I've thought about it, require that the medical staff on the Hospital Ship find you sane. There will be three months of them prodding and questioning and making determinations as to your normalcy. And I'm going to assume, sorry, Tanner," she said quietly, "that they will delve into your alcoholism too—"
He nodded and slid his hands up, then down, and then back up the cell door bars.
"I know ... I know ... and I'm not worried about that. I can face the music on my drinking, Helena," he said looking straight into those blue, blue eyes.
She nodded to him and then said very quietly, "And they will also ask about Halberd and the events there as well ..."
He froze. The events there. He knew what that meant, and the last thing he would want would be to go over those killings . . .
His hands gripped the bars and he squeezed as much as he could, the force spasming his hands, and he sobbed a bit.
Helena laid a hand on top of one of his and gently squeezed it. She looked him in the eye.
"Tanner, you need this. This is the best way for you to find some kind of help for all that is affecting you. You are without a doubt the best navy captain we have—that any RIM navy has—and if you can solve your problems, then you'll be back in the captain's chair. Be truthful and honest, and in ninety days, you can be cured and free and a Barony Navy captain again. But if you do not ask for help ... then no one—not even I—can help you. It's up to you, Tanner," she said, then turned, and walked down the corridor and out of the cell block.
He still gripped the bars. He still squeezed them tightly.
Ahead were three months or more of what would be more trauma and stress.
And that was something he knew he wasn't able to handle well anymore.
CHAPTER TWO
"Sir, I wanted to come by and just let you know, Sir, we're all behind you. You are still our captain, Sir," Kondo said.
He'd come in later than the usual visiting hours at the Neres City Jail, but then Tanner remembered just who his XO was in the old boy network. A son of the head of state of Amasis, one of the nine Barony realm worlds, he received some kind of a favored son set of perks, and not wearing his navy uniform said as much.
Tanner smiled at Kondo and said dryly, "And did you step up to be the new Atlas captain?" He thought as much and was certain this would be the best thing for the crew and the Atlas too.
Kondo nodded.
"But, note, Sir, that I am only the 'acting captain' of the Atlas—something that I demanded, and it was in the orders too, Sir. We're waiting for you to return, Sir. Not a problem at all," he said, and his tone was both respectful and kind.
Tanner turned away for a moment to get a grasp on his emotions. Nice thing to say, he thought, and that was true for all of the crew too.
He looked back at his XO—acting captain—and a lopsided smile appeared on his face.
"Noted, Acting Captain Lazaro, noted. It appears that I will be up on our Barony Hospital Ship—tell me," he said as the question rose in his own head, "Why do they call it a ship, when I hear it's like a huge space station up in high orbit?"
Kondo smiled.
"Well, it used to be a large ship—but over the past decades, as new technology came along, it was updated and made bigger. As the Barony took on more new citizens via our realms, each needed their own medical facilities, so they were added to the ship. As our own navy and marine forces grew with new alien staff, we had to add their own facilities, so the ship grew. In fact, they say it's like four hundred percent bigger than what it started out as, so yes, it's a true space station even though we all still call it the Hospital Ship."
Made sense, Tanner thought, to have specialized medical caregivers along with hospital beds and robo-docs all geared at each of the various species. That worked for the healthcare system, and he was glad they also had human medical facilities too, as that was where he was bound tomorrow.
In a low voice, he asked, "And anything new with our project over at the Captain's Council?"
Kondo's head tilted to the side, and then he looked around the area they were in—a cell holding his captain and an empty corridor. Cameras for sure and microphones too, which had him somewhat hesitant to talk out loud.
But he said quietly, "Nothing new there, but we're hoping to get some results after more testing."
While he didn't mention the anti-grav they were both talking about, via the ancient relics they'd discovered on Ghayth a few months back, they both knew what an opportunity this presented the Barony.
Both knew too that it was very much highly classified and it couldn't be spelled out, but just knowing that it was still being looked at was a good thing.
He nodded.
Kondo nodded too.
Both of their looks said enough.
"Sir, one more thing? Just before I left the Atlas, we received an Ansible from Throth—Ahanu wanted me to pass along his best, Sir. He wanted you to know that he wishes you speedy recovery—and that if you leave the navy, he has a taulev he said that will be forever yours as would citizenship as an Ikarian too. Seems he likes you, Sir," Kondo said.
He nodded and smiled back. "Yes, I'd imagine that was exactly what he said, and to be honest, I will seriously consider that ... just me and the wide open country on Throth," Tanner said.
It might not be such a bad life.
Game, riding taulevs, and the occasional predatory quoll to watch out for, but that made things more interesting.
####
"Rise and shine, sunshine" said a voice out of the blackness, and Tanner rolled over and tried to drift back off to sleep.
The sound of someone rattling the door to his cell again
broke through the darkness of sleep, and the door clanging didn't stop until Tanner slowly twisted on the steel cot, swung his legs over the side to sit up, and waved at the cop who stopped the banging finally.
"I'm up ... I'm up," Tanner said, "but why so dang early?" He rubbed his eyes.
At least today, he thought, the pain in his right arm was only a dull throb, and yet the itching below the cast was starting already.
If there was one thing about "old medicine," it's that casts had to be one of the worst ideas ever.
"Breakfast time, then it's rubber room time," the police guard said as he tilted his head.
"You're a navy captain, so how can you be crazy?" he said and actually waited for an answer.
Tanner slowly smiled at the guard and nodded. "Guilty of being a captain, but not on the crazy part," he said. And that was what the next few months would prove.
At least, that's what I'm going to have to do, he thought and slowly stood to accept the tray of food from the guard who rolled his eyes and then moved off down the corridor to the next prisoner.
Tanner grinned at the menu, wondering exactly how they'd chosen the jail chef, shrugged, and slowly ate up the large bowl of fruit salad, the dry toast, and the juice. He would have liked to have known what kind of juice it was, but that might mean he'd one day know what it was that tasted so oddly, so he forgot it.
Breakfast was over and he expected the guard to return to collect the tray and take him in custody for the trip up to the Hospital Ship, and he waited.
