Court-Martial (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 2)

by Chris Hechtl

  Lee eyed the commander as Tucker sucked in a soft breath. “I think that can be arranged,” she texted back with a nod.

  “Did I miss something?” Commander Chedwiggen asked.

  “I think I don't like the color of your skin, Commander,” Lee said, eyeing him. She looked into his eyes. “And you've got a tinge of yellow in your eye whites. It might be jaundice or just a trick of the lighting. Just to be on the safe side, why don't you stop by my office. I'll have my nurse sneak you in.”

  The commander blinked at her in confusion and then looked over to Admiral Logan as a bailiff came up behind him. The admiral nodded subtly.

  “Okay, um, we don't have court tomorrow, so around ten?”

  “Perfect,” the lieutenant replied with a smile. “Maybe if you stick around, we can arrange a lunch date,” she said, with a grin. She turned as Tucker growled slightly. “Don't be jealous,” she teased as the bailiff led the admiral away.

  “I'm … okay, maybe I am a little,” Tucker admitted. He knew they each had to play their part. “She's good, Commander. I can see the yellow a little, so she'll most likely need to run a few tests. It's no big deal though.”

  “Okay,” the commander said. “You two have me a little worried though.”

  “Oh, it's nothing to be afraid of. We've all been poked and prodded over the years,” Lee said with a smile as she texted a good luck to the admiral with her fingers.

  He turned slightly and nodded and then was gone through the door.

  Once they were outside, Lee tucked her arm in Tucker's for a moment. “Now, you can take me out to dinner and make it up to me for being jealous,” she said wickedly.

  “I'd love to. I only have a couple hours though before my shuttle leaves,” he warned.

  “Not a problem,” she said wickedly.

  “And shouldn't it be you making it up to me for making me jealous?” he demanded as they headed to the lift.

  “We'll see,” she said coyly.

  @^@

  Commander Chedwiggen was initially nervous about being at the VA Hospital. He had no idea why he'd signed on to the mission. He trusted Admiral Logan though, despite the man's current predicament.

  When he realized he'd thought that, he felt somewhat bemused but better. Okay, so he trusted the man. He also knew something was up, something they didn't want the brass to know about. Okay he thought as the nurse smiled and showed him in.

  He went through the usual initial checkup, the weigh in; he was right on target with his weight, the usual stats, BP, and such before he was left in a room.

  He was surprised when the lieutenant came in with her smock almost immediately. “Okay, we'll make this quick,” she murmured as she sat at the little table with the vid screen. She pulled out a device and set it on the table. It began to emit some inane chatter. “Okay,” she said as she scanned his files and then nodded. Another device came out of her pocket, and she had him extend his hand.

  “What am I doing?” he asked.

  “You are providing a DNA sample. I've already coded this for you being human, but I needed that sample and I couldn't access the one on file without raising suspicions,” she said.

  “And why do you need that?” he asked as she had him put his thumb on the scanner.

  “For implants. Admiral Logan wants you to have them so he can text you when he needs to do so.”

  “Oh.”

  The commander frowned. There were no regulations against having implants. In fact, according to the original orders from Admiral Irons, all personnel were supposed to get basic implants. It was just another thing that the Admiralty had blocked.

  “It is minor. I can only give you an ID implant and phase one officer implants, Commander. It will allow you to access some hardware, key encrypted files, store some data internally, and you'll be able to send and receive text files. He can also send you encrypted files that you alone can access.”

  “A definite way of assuring attorney-client privilege,” the commander replied with a nod as she pulled a series of pills out of the box.

  “Exactly.”

  “What about someone picking the text transmissions up?”

  “The keys are linked to your personal ID and DNA. I did manage to get that. The key shifts every few minutes. You are safe.”

  “Okay,” he replied with a nod.

  “Okay, so, take these,” she handed him the pills and then went and got him a paper cup with water in it. “And tonight, after you go to sleep, they will activate and create your implants. You'll need to initialize them afterward, so, follow the instructions and tutorial that you'll see.”

  “See?”

  “On your HUD. When they activate, you'll see a window open with a video screen in your vision. It is easiest to see when you look at dark areas. You'll get used to it.”

  He nodded and then took the pills. He chased them down with the water.

  “If I had time, I'd do a full workup and get you the rest of the basic package. Unfortunately, we've about run out of time.”

  “Understood,” he said as he rose out of the chair.

  “I scanned you with my own implants,” she said as she turned the audio device off and pocketed it and the other device. “You don't have jaundice, but you do need to watch your diet. Go easy on the high protein for a few days. Eat more green leafy veggies and such.”

  “In other words, less takeout and steaks and more salads?”

  “Yes,” she said as she showed him out. “All of you men are cave men; you really should do it, especially as you get older and your bodies change. Your digestive track will thank you if you do,” she said as she smoothly ushered him through the nursing stations and out.

  He nodded and even remembered to thank her as he left.

  @^@

  Admiral Shren decided to err on the side of caution and expand the jury pool. He got both sides to sign off on the move despite the new alternates only hearing the defense's side in court. They were to catch up on the prosecution's side by reading the court notes and sifting through the evidence if they were selected as primary jurors.

  That left him to find suitable officers in the fleet and then get Admiral N'r'm'll to detach them for jury duty. When court wasn't in session, the Veraxin could always “borrow” the personnel back to use them in staffing duties or have them on half-pay and allow them time off, whatever he wanted.

  @^@

  Rear Admiral Ross stared aghast at the orders that had just came in. Captain N'll'm'll noted the admiral's indecision and scuttled over to the admiral. A judicious crane of his neck and twist of an eyestalk allowed him to read the tablet over the human's shoulder. He caught the top line and blinked all four eyestalks in surprise and dismay. “You are relieved?” he asked dumbly.

  The admiral shook himself as he his self-control returned. He turned to the flag captain as the bug scuttled back out of his personal space. “No, detached duty for JAG. Most likely the Logan trial or someone else's trial,” the admiral said, rubbing his temple. He checked the file and then grunted. “Nope, it's Admiral Logan's. I've been selected as an alternate. Lucky me,” he grumbled.

  “Boy, they have no idea who they are asking to sit in on that!” the bug said, eyestalks bright as his feathery antenna danced. He signaled first-degree excitement and potential.

  “Enough of that. While I'm gone, Commodore Yashido is in charge.”

  “Yes, sir,” the captain replied, signaling assent. “Sir, what about the move to Slash and Burn?” he asked carefully. They were supposed to help shift the admiral to the SD flagship of TF 1.2.2 soon. Most of Deer Horn Knife's personnel were slated to make the move with the admiral since the heavy cruiser was going to go into refit.

  “She's laid up in port waiting refit and resupply, right?” The captain signaled assent and agreement. “And I'm going to be detached for a while, so I suppose we can put it off for the time being,” he said.

  Captain N'll'm'll hesitated and then signaled first-degree a
greement.

  The admiral saw the indecision and pursed his lips. “What?”

  “I think I can handle the move, sir, if you let me,” the bug replied.

  “I know you can, N'll'm'll, but I want to be here too. And I'm not quite ready to give up Deer Horn Knife just yet,” the admiral admitted.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Admiral Ross turned away. He was leaving the entire task force in Diao's hands. That would put the commodore up in spotlight. Hopefully, he was up for the task and could keep a low profile. Just to be on the safe side, he decided to put in a quiet word before he left for his time on Command One.

  Chapter 37

  Captain JG David Stripe looked at the latest status report and nodded. Gunhilda was doing well, but he didn't want to do just well. His ship was the flagship of the squadron, nay, all of First Fleet since they currently lacked a vice admiral. He wanted the best for his ship, and he intended to get it.

  The Neocat's tail flicked as he read the reports. He didn't like some of what he was seeing. Somehow, despite Admiral Ross's absence, TF 1.2.2 was still in the lead as far as stats were concerned. It bothered the hell out of him that a damn heavy cruiser could outdo a super dreadnought.

  And it bothered him even more that Deer Horn Knife's Captain JG N'll'm'll just smugly refused to answer when he tried to wheedle it out of the bug or his engineering officers. He'd tried bribes and even subtle threats; nothing had worked.

  TF 1.2.2 was a mess like most of the fleet. Admiral Ross had been promoted to rear admiral so he outranked Commodore Yashido who was in charge of the task force's battle cruisers. Admiral Ross should have shifted his flag to the SD Slash and Burn, but he hadn't done it. Of course, he could be waiting until he returned from his detached duty with the court and staff before he decided to make any changes. Besides, Slash and Burn was laid up waiting for her turn for repairs and resupply … so perhaps that was why he hadn't swapped his lights to the capital ship? His ears flicked. It wasn't up to him, he reminded himself. Flag officers, he was coming to know, had a mind of their own and did things on their own timetable for their own sometimes inexplicable reasons.

  “What's up, Dave?” a familiar voice asked. He turned to see Admiral Rowley striding onto the bridge.

  “Admiral on the deck!” the OOD called out. Personnel snapped to, but the admiral waved them back down.

  “As you were,” he said, eyes still on his flag captain.

  “I'm just trying to figure out how TF 1.2.2 has managed to squeeze some more efficiency out of their ships and personnel. I know it is the ships; my spies have reported some changes. But I haven't gotten enough of a clue.”

  “And you want to know this because?” the admiral asked in amusement.

  “Well, it's a competition thing I suppose, and I hate to know another ship is better than my own.” The admiral nodded sagely. “Besides, I know they are plotting something for the next exercise we have, whenever that is,” he grumbled. The last four exercise schedules had been rescheduled. The last reschedule had left it open-ended.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, there have been a lot of face-to-face meetings between the captains. I know we're supposed to be going light on fuel and expenditures, so much shuttle traffic struck me as odd. A simple comm conference call would have sufficed.”

  The admiral nodded, but his eyes were hooded. “Diao is in charge over there, right?”

  “Yes. I hate to be in his place with his sister in Third Fleet,” the captain mused.

  The admiral stopped and froze, then turned to him slowly. “Excuse me?” he asked carefully. “Sister?”

  “Yes, Yukio. She's good, damn good. Scary good. She's sneaky. I really don't like the idea of her being on the wrong side of this.”

  “His sister,” Admiral Rowley rumbled softly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Too many coincidences. Bring him in for questioning.”

  “Sir?” David asked in alarm.

  “You heard me. No, I think this is a case of Mohammed going to the mountain or the other way around, whatever,” the admiral said impatiently. “Gunhilda needs to stretch her legs. Let's go have a chat with Commodore Yashido.”

  “Sir, the provisions against expenditures …”

  The admiral waved a hand. “I'll take the heat. We'll do some sims along the way to dress it up. This may be too important to do over a conference call,” he growled.

  His flag captain stared at him for a moment, then nodded and began to issue orders.

  @^@

  Commodore Diao Yashido grimaced when he received the report of TF 1.2.1's movement. He started to feel a thread of concern when CIC plotted the task force coming in his direction. “Sir? What do we do?”

  “I don't know what is going on. I think we need to find out,” the commodore stated. “But just to be on the safe side,” he said, turning to Commander L'v'r'll, “I think we should run a drill. You know, just in case it is an unscheduled exercise,” he said.

  His Veraxin chief of staff signaled first-degree agreement. “Aye aye, sir.”

  @^@

  “Sir, we're receiving a signal from Hunting Roar asking about our intentions,” a communications tech reported.

  “I bet they are. Comm, lay a signal on to Hunting Roar.”

  There was a pause and then the tech signaled assent. “Signal open, sir.”

  Admiral Rowley settled himself. “This is Admiral Rowely. Commodore Yashido, I've been hearing some odd things about you, and I think we need to talk. I want you to bring your staff over to my flagship when we are within easy transit distance of one another. You seem to prefer face-to-face chats, so I thought I'd accommodate you,” he said thinly.

  @^@

  “He knows,” Commander L'v'r'll said quickly. “The jig is up.”

  “He knows something,” the commodore replied. “What, we don't know.”

  “Do you honestly think it's safe to go over there, sir? ONI could pounce on us. They probably will the moment we're over there! And when they get us, there is no telling what they'll do if they even get a sniff of what we've been talking about,” his chief of staff said.

  “Pipe down, it could be routine,” the commodore ordered.

  “Sir, TF 1.2.2 is cleared for action as you requested,” his flag captain interrupted.

  @^@

  “Sir, TF 1.2.2 has just cleared for action. We're getting hits by lidar and radar,” Captain Stripe said urgently.

  “What the devil is going on?” Admiral Rowley demanded. “Tell those fools to stand-down now! I want their ships shut down this instant!” he snarled.

  @^@

  “Sir, we're receiving orders from Gunhilda to stand-down. They are ordering us to shut down our systems,” the communications officer reported.

  “Damn it. Okay, I don't need an I told you so,” the commodore growled. “Comm, tight beam to all ships in TF 1.2.2. All ships, this is Commodore Yashido. The word is Sigel. Repeat, Sigel. Orders to follow. Get clear,” he growled as he moved from indecision to action in a blink of an eye.

  He could see his staff stiffening as he activated the GOTH plan. They were cornered with their backs to Command One and with TF 1.4's firepower bearing down on them. His fingers flashed as he plotted a course. They would just barely brush through the other side's outer weapons basket before they got clear if they moved now.

  “Nav, plot us a course based on my rough estimate,” he said, flicking the file over to his staff navigator. Execute the moment you can. Tactical, we're going to be in their weapons basket for a brief time. We're in the shit with super dreadnoughts breathing down our necks. Get ready to give us some breathing room.”

  @^@

  “Sir, they aren't responding. All of TF 1.2.2 are maneuvering to get clear of us,” Rosalina, his tactical officer reported.

  “Where the hell do they think they are going?”

  “Incoming fire!” a CIC barked. “Vampire, I say again, Vampire! Multiple bogies at ten mark four port s
ide! Sixteen million kilometers out and closing! Two minutes thirty seconds from impact Mark!”

  “Son of a bitch!” Admiral Rowley snarled as David's shrill voice called out for his ship to go to battle stations. In just a blink of an eye, something so simple had gone to hell.

  “Return fire!” the admiral barked as his Neocat flagship captain tried to get Gunhilda's defenses up. As he watched, the battle cruisers fired a second and third broadside. Half of the weapons fire was jammers, decoys, and other penaides. They weren't being used for that at the moment. Instead, they were blinding his task forces's sensors as they came up. His CIC and tactical personnel had just started to get a plot running when their sensors went to snow.

  It came at the worst possible moment. By the time their sensors cleared, a full minute of precious time had elapsed. That had allowed the missiles that had been launched to halve the distance between the ships.

  And it would be another two minutes before his personnel were fully at battle stations and the ship's defenses were up, Admiral Rowley thought briefly before he began to bark orders. They were running out of time, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

  @^@

  “Incoming fire! Multiple bogies,” CIC reported. “Big mothers from a few of the SDs,” the tech said over the open channel as the plot was updated.

  Commodore Yashido grunted as he saw the fire. Most of it was coming from Gunhilda. The rest of the task force was sporadic in its return fire. It wasn't very coordinated. But as he watched, the big SD came about to expose her broadside tubes. He could see more missiles spark on his plot.

  “Time to get clear, three minutes forty seconds. The missiles have seven minutes on their clocks,” his tactical officer reported. “It's a stern chase but they are nasty. It only takes a couple to destroy one of the smaller ships. Six or so and we're done,” she said.