However, there appeared to be one man in the room who took my rhetorical statement seriously. “In preparation for just this concern, I took the initiative to approach the Fleet’s Legal Department for an answer,” Jones said with satisfaction. “Mr. Harpsinger is waiting outside to present Fleet Legal’s take on this entire situation.”
My blood pressure instantly spiked. It appeared that not only were my off-the-cuff responses being managed, but now I was actively being outmaneuvered by my own Flag Lieutenant. What an infuriating situation; I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Akantha and taken so much time off.
“With your permission, of course,” the Ensign turned to me.
“Wonderful,” I said. Now if I didn’t at least listen to the Legal Department’s position, it would look like I was trying to circumvent the law instead of just ignoring it and asking forgiveness later if it turned out I was technically in the wrong. But if I did bring the Legal Department directly into this discussion I couldn’t expect anything except that my hands would be tied even further than they were already were. What a mess.
“Sir?” prompted Jones.
“By all means, bring Mr. Harpsinger in so that we can hear his well-considered legal opinion,” I said wearily.
Ensign Jones smiled before bringing the Lucky Clover’s former paralegal, and now lawyer, into the conference room.
“Admiral Montagne, Captains, Commander Spalding,” Lieutenant Harpsinger saluted as he came into the room.
“Thank you for joining us, Lieutenant,” I said with a tight smile for one of the few lawyers I actually halfway trusted. If it weren’t for Harpsinger I would have likely found myself in even deeper trouble than I had. Particularly in regards to the charge of planetary piracy… I scowled as memories of my time in the Durance Vile at Central and my questioning by the Security Council and Governor—then 'Sir'—Isaak.
“Thank you, Sir,” Harpsinger said promptly.
I waved a hand. “If you would present your findings to the group, Lieutenant,” I said grumpily.
“Of course, Sir,” Harpsinger said linking up his slate to the holo-screen, “while I have to admit my surprise at the request for legal clarification on the status of the Praxis Battleships, I have prepared our legal opinion for your review.”
With a tap, Harpsinger replaced the current graphics on the screen with a wall of pure text.
“I’m forwarding everyone a file now, and after you’ve had time to review it you will see the various issues involved. However, for now if we will turn to the forward summary then-” Harpsinger started studiously but I cut him off.
“If you could just go over the main points with us, in your own words, perhaps we can circle back to the forward later?” I suggested, not at all eager to derail what had up until now been a rather straightforward strategy meeting.
Harpsinger blinked rapidly. “That is more in line with our past meetings than what I had been led to expect,” he said agreeably. I shot a look at my wayward Flag Lieutenant.
“My apologies to Legal, Lieutenant,” Jones saw my look and jumped, “although I’ve served on Commodore Fog-Runner’s staff and attended a number of Old Confederation Fleet briefings, I’m still not entirely synced in with all the idiosyncrasies of the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet.”
“I shall relay that to my team, Ensign,” Lieutenant Harpsinger said. He then looked my way. I waved my hand in a 'get on with it' motion. “Right then,” Harpsinger placed his slate on the table with a click. Folding his hands he stepped to the front of the table, “It is our legal opinion that turning the remaining battleships back over to the Praxis government would be an acceptable—or, rather, an uncontested—move with sufficient legal standing behind it that no one would contest it, and it certainly would not open the Admiral or the Fleet to any legal action. With that said...” he said possibly catching sight of my increasingly darkening features. “There are any number of precedents available to us for stripping the Praxis system government of those warships, formerly belonging to them, which we retain in our possession,” he said seriously.
And the dark faces began to lighten. “Now that’s more like what I want to hear,” Spalding said with satisfaction.
The Chief Gunner grunted with dissatisfaction. “Aren’t the only warships ‘in our possession’ the two battleships?” he demanded.
“Mainly, but we do have a few of their more damaged warships that they were forced to abandon,” Spalding said irritably.
“Right,” I said to cut off any more back and forth between the two irritable Caprians, “continue with the presentation Mr. Harpsinger,” I instructed, not only because of the two but also because I was interested in what he had to say. Despite my distrust of lawyers, the Lieutenant had yet to really let me down. Being a night school lawyer with a correspondence degree, he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tack in the tool box but he always tried his best. At least...so far, I reminded myself, my thoughts taking a dark turn.
“Option one is the least feasible but the most straightforward,” Harpsinger gestured with his hand, “simply assert your status as a Confederation Admiral and, when challenged, remand all captures to the Confederation prize courts for assignment.”
“That sounds promising,” Captain Laurent said hopefully, “what’s the hangup with that option?”
Captain Hammer shook her head at her colleague as our lawyer drew a breath to reply.
“Other than the fact the Admiral specifically stipulated in both writing and holo-conference that he would set aside his Confederation Authority for the duration of the Reclamation Invasion?” Harpsinger frowned.
“Yes, I suppose there is that,” Laurent sighed as he sat back in his chair.
“While I did agree to the terms, I don’t recall actually signing anything that I couldn’t back out of?” I pointed out. “I mean, these are self-proclaimed rebels to the Confederation we are dealing with here.”
“I checked to verify my memory but in addition to the recorded holo-conferences,” Harpsinger said, looking meaningfully at me, “I also found it in your official written acceptance of Sector Commandant authority. It was buried in a sub-clause but it is there.”
“And just why wasn’t the Admiral notified of this beforehand?” Spalding harrumphed.
The Legal Lieutenant glared fiercely at the old engineer. “We were asked to ensure that any documents the Admiral signed were in strict compliance with his verbal agreements with the Sector and Sector Guard, which his grant of command authority was on all accounts! There was not a single legal power grab in there to trip up the Admiral or this Fleet after the Sector Fleet was disbanded as it has done here, Mr. Spalding,” Harpsinger said angrily. “We did our duty, nothing less, Commander and I resent the implication that we did anything else. We who do not turn a wrench also happen to serve!”
Spalding raised his hands in surrender. “I was just asking, lad. Sweet Murphy, there’s no need to call out the firing squad over a simple question,” he said, settling back into his chair grumpily.
Lesner and several others smirked at the sight of the fiery old engineer back-footed and on the defensive for once, which of course only caused the old man to become even grumpier than he was before and fold his arms across his chest huffily.
“As I was saying, the Admiral’s Confederation Authority was specifically set aside in this instance and there are case histories of other Admirals doing so in similar instances. Admittedly those were mainly during the founding years of the Confederation, but still it complicates things as from a legal standpoint such a route would be chancy,” Harpsinger said. “Furthermore, even though the Sector Governor and presumably the entire Sector are now in rebellion against the Confederation, several cases could be made which would make things problematic for us,” he started ticking off points on his fingers. “First, they were not in rebellion at the time the battle and thus prize ships were captured, so any apportionment would still need to go through the courts. Second, they could make a case that they were
not in fact in rebellion and were only attempting to stop what they viewed as simple piracy. They could claim that any statements they made at the time were merely to try and get said pirates—us—to surrender the warships. Third, they have at least one current—or former, depending on how you look at it—Sector Judge, the Justice for Sector 25 as an active participant in their new government. All of which are very good reasons for us to consider our other options.”
“And those options are?” I prompted.
“Our second option is to assert your previous right as Sector Commandant and say you had already apportioned those warships using your Sector authority,” said the Lieutenant.
Heads nodded but the Ensign providing our briefing look upset. Since this was nominally good news I silently tallied up another strike against the man.
“How is that possible since as far as I know the Admiral hadn’t then, when he was still Commandant—and from what he himself has said right here—still hasn’t made any determination on the subject?” pointed out my ever-so-loyal Flag Lieutenant. Even in my own thoughts I could practically hear the sarcasm dripping.
“I’m sure I provided Admiral Montagne with the forms and paperwork necessary to designate the Battleships anyway he chose, Ensign. If there has been a clerical error in the filing of said forms I can only apologize to the Sector Governor,” Harpsinger shot back. “Of course now that the Governor is technically in rebellion, it is the opinion of Legal that any attempted override of the Sector Commandant's—or rather former Commandant’s—discretionary powers should be disregarded until its status as a rebel Sector has been clarified.”
The Ensign looked taken aback. “I’m not sure that this kind of backdated legal contrivance is the best way to start-” he stopped speaking at seeing the surprised look on Captain Hammer’s face.
“As the Admiral’s Flag Lieutenant, I would have expected you to be the first to apologize for the failure to forward the Admiral’s electronic correspondence to the Governor in a timely fashion, if the Admiral should choose to do so at this point, Ensign,” Hammer said, her voice strict and unyielding.
I was actually happy to hear that I wasn’t the only one displeased with the Ensigns recent performance. It made me less paranoid that maybe his actions had been some kind of plot or ploy by my former and maybe again Old Confederation Flag Captain.
“Sir, I…” he stopped and swallowed whatever he had been about to say, “I mean, of course, Sir. I shouldn’t have attempted to misplace the blame for misfiled paperwork. It was clearly in my bailiwick in the absence of a Chief of Staff. It won’t happen again, Sir,” the Ensign said, looking like he’d just been forced to swallow something unpleasant but still determined to do his duty as he turned to me.
“I’m sure you will be more dedicated to your duty to myself and this fleet in the future, Ensign,” I waved the man away. After all, it wouldn’t do to rub too much salt in the wounds of a man throwing himself on a minor procedural grenade in the name of more battleships and less legal hassles for this fleet.
I released the Ensign from my gaze and looked back to the lawyer.
“An interesting proposition,” was all I was willing to say on that subject at this time, “but tell me about the third option, if you will?”
“Lastly, we have the Tracto-an option which we can play,” Harpsinger smoothly continued.
“The Tracto-an option?” Spalding asked. “You mean 'load up the shuttles and board more ships for the ones we’re lacking'?”
Snorted laughter around the room sounded in response to this non-sequitur. Harpsinger didn’t take the engineer’s ribbing as well as the rest of the room and his lips made a thin line.
“Actually I was referring to the fact that the Tracto-an SDF and, more specifically, its home star system has never once signed any of the Old Confederation diplomatic accords. It is not now, and has never been, a signatory member and only by the most technical of standards can it be considered a provisional member of the Confederation at large,” Harpsinger said, his voice turning a bit on the strict side as he spoke.
“Sounds like a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo to me. Break it down into words that those of us who are simple engineers can understand,” snorted Commander Spalding.
“Meaning we can throw out much of the precedence that is used in the disputes between member worlds, between world and Sector or worlds outside of a Sector with another Sector,” he replied. Obviously seeing the increasing irritation and lack of understanding on the faces around him, Harpsinger sighed, “Basically we can say whatever we want and, so long as we have the power to make it stick, there’s not much they can do about it; possession being nine tenths of the law in this particular instance.”
“That’s more like it! Now why couldn’t you have said that in the first place?” Spalding simultaneously crowed and scolded the young lawyer.
“Because there are a few caveats,” Harpsinger sighed, “if they ever got their hands on those ships again, by any means—including stealth or even outright attacking us—there’s nothing we could do legally speaking our hands would be tied.”
“Not a problem; let ’em come,” Spalding said.
“Agreed. That’s been a risk we’ve always had. Anything else?” I asked.
“They could still take us to the courts but since Tracto hasn’t signed any of the unified space treaties, the most they could impose was a cash settlement. But considering the large amount of trillium we possess even that could be dealt with, by sending a couple freighter loads of trillium,” said Harpsinger.
I didn’t like the idea of paying for something I already owned. But since we had so much the trillium seemed a small price to pay. I mean, if I could trade trillium for battleships I wouldn’t be out here sending boarding parties and fighting over every scrap I could lay my hands on, I’d have simply gone out and ordered as many ships as I could trade trillium for!
“I think we can live with that,” I said.
“Finally, if Tracto ever changed its policy, signed the space treaty, or the Tracto-an Governing Council made a deal trading those battleships away, we’d be up a creek without a paddle,” Harpsinger explained. “So basically unless we’re actually in violation of Tracto’s real policy, we run out of trillium, or we’re out-fought by Praxis and their allies, whomever they might be, we’re good to go under that scenario.”
“An awful lot of two-faced squirreliness built into that statements of yours,” Spalding declared with dissatisfaction, “but then I suppose a man shouldn’t expect too much when the lawyers are involved.”
“While also a legal issue, this is a matter bordering on the diplomatic. And let’s be clear here:, while acting as part of a Sector-wide force, we captured the battleships of a Sovereign Star System and then claimed every major warship said force captured for ourselves,” Harpsinger said with a glare at the old engineer. “Be thankful we have a government behind us and a legal leg to stand on, otherwise what we just did would look an awful lot like piracy.”
“Piracy?!” Spalding howled, jumping out of his chair. “Now listen here, pup! We saved this Sector and captured those warships. It’s up to the Admiral whose hands those warships end up in, not our esteemed Sector Governor,” he declared, his voice dripping with scorn. “What’s more, we didn’t even haul those ships out of Easy Haven until ‘after’ the Sector Governor tried to claim everything for himself and screw us over. Without the MSP, the Admiral, and the Lucky Clover the entire Spine would have fallen to those imperial jackanapes! And if the Governor hadn’t been so greedy as to…” The old engineer trailed off incoherently, his face twisted with rage as he seemed to reach out and grab an invisible throat with both hands and start strangling the air.
“Ah yes,” I said, looking at the old cyborg with concern, “while the Chief Engineer seems a little overwrought, he does have a point.”
“As always, there is the moral and there is the legal. We have the laws to keep us from degenerating into a society where revenge plays, fami
ly feuds and vendettas are the actions of the day, just the same as we have morals to keep us from wandering down the path of rigid laws and societies that have legalized, among other things, torture and genocide,” pointed out Harpsinger. “Fortunately I am only here for my legal opinion, not our moral stance—which, by the way, I happen to agree with. How can we continue to sacrifice for the good of the Sector when the system and Sector authorities seem to vacillate between unappreciative and determined to destroy us?”
There was a pause and heads started to nod in agreement before Ensign Jones cleared his throat. “Ah yes, thank you for that, Lieutenant, but if you could stick to the legal side of things I’m sure we would all appreciate it,” Jones said firmly.
“Would we indeed, Ensign?” Harpsinger asked, looking down his nose at the junior officer ,his voice strict and unyielding as he faced the Ensign.
Jones flushed at the pointed rebuke from what was technically a superior officer, even if he was a staff officer. The lawyer was a Lieutenant while Jones himself was actually only an Ensign after all, even if he was holding down a slot that technically should have belonged to a Lieutenant.
Meanwhile, I suppressed a chuckle.
“So it looks like the choice is between invoking my former authority as Sector Commandant and facing possible legal action, or play the Governor’s farce to the hilt that we were ever only the Tracto-an SDF and not a Confederation Fleet, even though we were fighting inside a Confederation held star system—perhaps the last such outpost in the entire Spineward Sectors…and almost certainly face legal action as well,” I said turning serious.
“Well when you put it that way the answer seems clear to me,” Spalding snorted, thumping a fist on the table, “damn the torpedoes and let the politicians rot!”
Admiral's Nemesis (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 11) Page 15
