Court-Martial (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 2)

by Chris Hechtl

  “It's not him. It's the quality of opponent he's up against,” Ingrid said instantly.

  Sven looked at her, eyebrows rising skyward in surprise at her vehemence. He cocked his head. She pursed her lips and then shrugged. “It's Horatio. He's hammered him on the trial. One by one they've picked apart the arguments and stuff. The more they throw at him, the more he just tears it down or looks like he's the underdog. There is a lot of sympathy for him obviously, but it's not just that. Irons is in his corner, and everyone knows that.”

  “Yes, everyone but Childress. I don't think Omar's thought of that. He just sees the distances involved, if he is even seeing it at all. For an admiral, he's reacting strategically …,” words failed him. He shook his head. “Dumb,” he finally said, capping his statement.

  “Amen.”

  His wife tucked herself into his arms. He looked down to her and then nuzzled her curly mop. “It's not going to save him in the end, is it?” she murmured.

  “Childress or Horatio?”

  “Horatio.”

  “No. Most likely not,” he murmured softly. He felt and heard her sigh. “Sorry, love. It is out of our hands, unfortunately.”

  “I know. I hate it when you are honest about something I don't want to hear,” she admitted. He chuckled softly. “But I've got to hear it I suppose,” she said, patting his hands. He squeezed her until she gasped and then let her loose. She turned and gave him a peck on the jaw, then a proper kiss before she broke free to check on the kids before supper.

  His eyes lingered on her as he watched her go.

  @^@

  Doctor Bullettine returned to his offices to find the police there. He shook his head as he showed them his ID and then picked his way through the police line. “Number one with a bullet,” he murmured. “Can someone tell me what's going on?” he asked loudly.

  “ONI broke in. I'm pretty sure of it,” Theresa replied as she came over to him with two cups of coffee. She held one out to him. He took it and took a sip.

  “Anyone hurt?”

  “No. And they didn't get our real data, just the stuff we left out for them to find.”

  “Ah,” he replied with a nod. They had learned to not just air gap their computers but to hide the real data and leave out false data. “Think they'll buy it?”

  “Possibly. I'm glad they didn't turn to vandalism,” the doctor replied. “Did you notice the weather change?” he asked.

  She looked around and then frowned at him, clearly puzzled since they were in an orbital habitat.

  “I meant did you note that the Childress supporters are suddenly switching sides,” the psychologist explained.

  Her eyes widened. “No, I didn't see anything about that. How do you know?”

  “I watched the programming. Things are shifting. The tone of the news reports is shifting in our favor. I'm betting the industrialists have decided to cut their losses.”

  “Ah. So, where does that leave us?”

  “Still near the end of the trial. But it leaves Childress with less support, which means he's going to become increasingly desperate. Desperate men do desperate things.”

  “And we're a target,” she murmured with a nod.

  “Exactly. So, while the police are looking for evidence and just so nicely accessing our files,” he said pointedly. She winced. “ …Let’s have them run bomb squad through here. You know, just in case?”

  “Good idea,” Theresa murmured.

  @^@

  Horatio wasn't surprised that a demand from the brass came through to shut down his implants. He'd just wondered why it had taken so long.

  “For officer safety, we require you to shut your implants off,” the guard lieutenant stated stiffly.

  Horatio looked at the lieutenant and snorted. “I can't do that. I won't. Period.”

  The lieutenant turned to Doctor Hsiao. She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I can't do that. I won't,” she said, echoing Horatio.

  “It's not a request.”

  “One moment,” Horatio said. He turned to the doctor and indicated her tablet. “May I?” he asked.

  “Sure, be my guest,” she said, curiosity arisen. He took the tablet and jacked into it.

  “Implant security, this is Rear Admiral Horatio Logan. I have received an order to shut off my implants.”

  “Disregard,” a robotic voice said from the speaker on the tablet.

  “Was that …?” the doctor asked, eyes wide. Horatio nodded.

  “Can you explain for the lieutenant?”

  “The order is illegal. Disregard.”

  “Well, there you have it from the implant computer itself,” the doctor said with a smirk to the lieutenant.

  “Then don't allow him access to electrical power,” the lieutenant said. “They'll eventually run out of power, right?”

  “No. The body is electric, Lieutenant,” the doctor said with a shake of her head. “Right?” she asked, turning to the admiral.

  “Correct.”

  The lieutenant glared at them both and then stormed out.

  “What a maroon. Like you'd shut your implants off. That's how you survived, right?” she asked. Horatio nodded once. “Thought so. Good for you,” she murmured as she went back to work.

  @^@

  Once he was out of the doctor's clutches, Horatio made his way stiffly back to his cell under guard. There were two guards, a big wary gorilla and bringing up the rear was Sergeant Copper. She seemed at ease with him.

  He was surprised when he was congratulated by prisoners in passing. “Yo, homey, you bad,” one said.

  “Bad mother fracker. Kick ass,” a Neodog said.

  “Kick Childress's ass!” a Neochimp said, going so far as to climb the bars in his cell and hang from the ceiling. He hooted and shook the bars with his free hand, making the door rattle loudly.

  “As you were,” Sergeant Copper growled to them, but the cheers continued.

  Horatio realized it was more for putting one over on Childress than killing his assassin. Clearly the guards were nettled by the adulation. Horatio was not allowed to say anything, but he nodded to a few people in passing.

  He wasn't surprised that he was relocated to a new block. He was surprised to find it in the maximum-security wing. He grimaced at the idea of being locked down twenty-three hours a day. At least they hadn't stuck him in the death penalty wing.

  Yet.

  @^@

  “You heard about TAAP?” Jules Fabian demanded as he met Admiral Amir outside a coffee shop halfway between their respective headquarters.

  “Yeah. Pity the bomb didn't go off as planned. The police found it. Rather thorough of them to even look for it,” Admiral Amir said snidely.

  “Yeah,” Jules muttered. He wasn't certain if the admiral had set the entire plot into motion or not. He wasn't sure who had, but again a plan had failed.

  He should be getting used to that by now, he mused darkly.

  “He's turned into some damn folk hero in the prison,” Jules said with a shake of his head.

  “He is the underdog. He's been there, dogging the big guy, being picked on, nearly killed, but he's still there. People respect that. People see it, see the bully in Childress, and are lining up to fight him. It's a classic David versus Goliath.”

  “Yeah well, it's not going to matter in the end. Logan's going down, like it or not. What will they do then?”

  “You mean when Childress turns him into a martyr?” Admiral Amir asked tiredly. He was feeling his age after all the mess that was happening. “They'll go mad. My facilities have been hit twice.”

  Jules stared at the retired admiral turned CEO and then grimaced. “Oh, shut up,” he muttered, as he turned away.

  Chapter 50

  Doctor Bullettine noted a new presence in the audience as the jury filed in and the assembly came to order. “Heads up. We've got something going on in the audience,” he murmured to the others at their table.

  Commander Chedwiggen
turned slightly and noted the elf TJAG sitting behind the prosecutor on an elevated chair. “Let him watch,” he murmured, turning back to the proceedings as the closing arguments began.

  He was addicted to his implants. He had to admit, having the ability to have a form on his HUD, able to pull files up at will, or to write a speech and then get it out verbatim was good. He knew he had unnerved Captain Rising Tide by reciting forms and information without physically consulting his notes or a tablet.

  It was an old trick old hands did. Those who could memorize things and then recite them used it to unnerve their opponents. Their opponents hoped they'd trip up. But, for some old sweats who had done it in their sleep or who had a sharp memory, it was easy.

  Now he didn't have to rely on his memory or at least, not his organic memory.

  There was also a difference in quality too. They were both officers, but the captain was someone who had started out as a JAG and had risen through the ranks without ever having an operational command. The commander, however, was a different sort of beast, and the members knew it. He was an operator who just so happened to also be an attorney. He knew the real-world and how it worked, while the captain was limited to theory, which meant their closing statements were going to have a little bit more weight.

  They listened attentively as Captain Rising Tide made his closing arguments. There wasn't quite an air of desperation about the high elf, but one could see his patience had been sorely tried. Having to dismiss over a dozen charges and undermine his case could do that. Not to mention having his credibility being shredded by having witnesses impeached due to perjury.

  Slowly the high elf rose from his seat and then walked in front of the jury box. He towered over the members and looked them over and then turned the accused.

  “We are here to rule on the activities of a former petty officer turned officer. One who never attended the academy so hardly knows how to act as an officer. Commodore Logan, the accused, has been playing his own game from the beginning. We do not know who he really is; all we have is his word that he is even a commodore!” He shook his head in artful disgust.

  “He came into our star system over two years ago and turned it upside down. He was given a task, to build a ship and did so, but while also sexually harassing a member of his staff, a subordinate.”

  The commander scowled. “He then left with that ship, the Ilmarinen, with orders to build a space station in the B-102c star system as a bridge to the outer Federation and then wait for resupply. According to the evidence we have seen and the testimony we heard, he did indeed direct the construction of said station. But he did so using dangerous salvage materials with a Xeno A.I. embedded in it that not only eventually threatened the safety of the station's occupants but the entire Federation!” he turned in place, hands apart and wide to indicate them all.

  “He salvaged ships, and with a fine disregard for the safety of the prize crew, he sent them back here with little fuel reserve in ships that were barely patched together for the journey. We heard testimony from many including Lieutenant V'r'n'll who pointed out his ship nearly didn't make it at all.”

  “And while he was doing this, he drained the crew of Ilmarinen and the station. The salvage operation was not authorized or wise. Did a copy of the virus get into one of those ships? Cyber Security says no, but can we be certain? Only time will tell for sure.”

  He frowned. “We don't know for certain what he told Admiral Irons via the ansible, if it even exists. But what we do know is, after the disastrous Xeno virus infestation, where dozens died, he directed Ilmarinen to return to our Republic and then put us all in distress once again by attacking our senior-most officer in an attempt to relieve him of command in a coup. And we know how that ended up because our people rose up and said no.”

  “There is only one thing to do here. Find him guilty, ladies and gentlemen.”

  He stared at each of them for a long moment, then resumed his seat.

  When it was the defense's turn, Commander Chedwiggen rose and smoothed his jacket as he took center stage.

  “A courtroom is a crucible; it is where we burn away the lies and distortions to eventually find the truth. That is how the legal system is supposed to work,” the commander said. “And we've seen a lot of that in this case. We all know it. We can't help but know what is going on outside this courtroom and what is riding on it.”

  He grimaced when the chief judge reached for his hand gavel. He turned back to the jury. “But none of that is supposed to matter. What is supposed to matter is the evidence, the testimony, and the facts in the case. Each side lays out their narrative. Which side has the most credibility? I think we can all answer that.”

  He glanced at Admiral Logan. “We all have to ask ourselves about the timing. Some of these charges go back years.” He turned and stared at the jury. “Think about that. ONI had him under surveillance since the day he stepped off Caroline's deck. We've already established that. So the question now is, why? And why wait? Why now,” he said, stabbing his finger into the box railing. “I think we all know why,” he said after a long pause.

  “I think we all know why the charges were laid about the Harbor Station. They made a wonderful, evocative terrifying change of subject!” he waved his hand. “We see what is going on; it is a simple thing. If you don't like the message, change the subject. Attack the messenger. Make it about him and not the message,” he said, turning and placing both hands on the railing. “We all know the old saying about shoot the messenger. But that doesn't change the message.”

  “Was the rear admiral acting in good faith and executing orders from Admiral Irons? Is he responsible for an alien virus attacking a space station?” he shook his head. “We all know the answer to that. We've all been given orders we don't like. And we've faithfully executed them, if they were legal.” He stared at them.

  Up until a few months ago we saw a familiar look, Rear Admiral Logan in handcuffs.” He noted the looks of distaste and even a few officers glancing at Admiral Logan. “It goes against tradition and respect,” he said. “Duty and honor, something we all hold to or most of us,” he said firmly.

  That earned a soft growl from some in the room.

  “Despite no charges of violence or offering violence, he was treated with contempt. He has sat here, through these proceedings and others, and has comported himself as an officer should.”

  He stared at them.

  “And then we have those who have charged him. Who are willing to see the Republic burn around them and the Federation burn right alongside in order to suit their own twisted selfish needs. All the while they put Admiral Logan on trial for his life, all because they don't like the message he brought.”

  “Admiral Logan,” he said turning to the admiral, “is here because he wishes to be judged by a jury of his peers. Many of you know that double jeopardy has applied. He's waved it each and every time in order to get to this point,” he turned back to them. “He's putting his life in your hands because he is a man of honor. A man worthy of your respect,” he said, drawing out the last word carefully.

  “But, there is one other question we have to ask ourselves,” he said quietly, into the ensuing silence. He turned to survey the courtroom and then back the jury.

  “Why do we wear this uniform?” he asked quietly. “I think that question didn't really become so vital, so important until now. Oh, we believe we're here to defend our republic and the Federation. But deep down, did any of us ever think the Xenos would ever come?” he shook his head.

  He pointed to the flag of the Federation. “The last time I checked, we fly that flag here in this room because we are a part of the Federation. And as officers we can't pick and choose which orders we follow just because we don't like them or they are detrimental for our career.” He waved a hand to his client. “My client knew that coming here. He knew what he might be getting into, what may have been asked of him when Admiral Irons issued him those orders. He did it anyway, because, that was his duty.
He believed in us, that ultimately, we would do the right thing. Now it is up to you.” He turned to the jury box and put his hands on it gently. “This used to stand for something, as did that flag,” he said, pointing to the flag once more. “As did the uniforms each of you wear. You know the truth. You know what has to be done. The question is, do any of you have the courage to do what is right? No matter the cost?”

  He stared at them for a long moment.

  “I hope so. For your sake as well as the sake of every officer and enlisted who is in uniform now or in the future.”

  He turned to the flag and came to attention. Slowly his right hand rose. “I, Lieutenant Commander Aleck Jasper Chedwiggen, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Federation from all enemies, foreign and domestic;” his eyes cut to the jury significantly when he uttered that last word, then snapped back to the flag, “that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office for which I am about to enter; so help me Gods of space.”

  His hand dropped and then he saluted the flag briefly. He held it for a full minute and then struck the salute and turned to the jury, still standing at parade rest. “That used to mean something,” he said ever so softly. “Let it mean something again. Redeem our honor,” he said before he turned and took his seat once more.

  Silence reigned in the courtroom for a long moment as the members and the room felt that living presence fade.

  @^@

  “I'm glad that's over,” Admiral Silvestri said in heartfelt fatigue as he shucked his jacket in the judge's chambers.

  “Is it?” the colonel asked mildly as he came in behind him. “We've still got appeals probably.”

  Admiral Silvestri turned to him in surprise. “You know it is.”

  “I know it is out of our hands. But Admiral Childress has blown it. The prosecution's case is laughable. It is all over the news, and despite our injunctions not to watch the media coverage, you know most of the jury has seen that video by now. Hell, you squashed the call to put it in front of them, but we all know it is out there. He should be relieved. This has gone on long enough.”