Stand Against The Storm (The Maxwell Saga Book 4)

by Peter Grant

  “With respect, Sir, we have hoversat surveillance records, plus the report of the Marine patrol that ambushed the ambushers, plus the accounts of the prisoners of war we captured. All those sources confirm that –”

  “By definition, they are not prisoners of war! For the last time, Lieutenant, we are not legally part of this conflict! The Commonwealth is not at war here!” There was real anger in Davis’ voice now.

  Steve bit his lip hard to avoid delivering a blistering retort. The Captain was the Senior Fleet Officer on this station, and could behave as he wished unless and until reversed by higher authority. Right now all he could do was take whatever the Captain chose to hand out. He restricted himself to a stiff nod, saying nothing.

  “I’ve ordered the Marines not to become involved in the fighting,” Davis went on. “So far they’ve obeyed my instructions to the letter, with the exception of Major Emory. He may have gone too far in defending the Eksalansari against a bandit attack, but given the shooting down of his shuttle and the presence of royalty, allowances can be made for the exigencies of that particular situation. They do not apply to you! I don’t care about the hostages. Neither does the Department of State. Your orders were not to negotiate with or initiate combat with the rebels, yet you deliberately disobeyed them. I’m going to put a formal reprimand on your file for disobeying the orders of a superior officer in the face of the enemy.”

  Steve could no longer completely hide his anger and frustration. Face white, he replied curtly, “Sir, you’ve just pointed out that the rebels are not our enemy, so with respect, I don’t see how that reprimand can be valid.” He fought down the urge to put his protest in rather stronger language.

  Davis turned red with fury. “Don’t quibble, damn you! I’ll conduct further investigations when the situation on the ground makes that possible. If they reveal what I expect they will, you’ll be very lucky to escape a court-martial.”

  Steve had to restrain himself from shaking his head in utter disbelief. Did Captain Davis have no conception of reality? Had he even bothered to read his after-action report and that of Major Emory?

  “You are to confine yourself to the supply depot unless your assistance is temporarily needed elsewhere by the Marines,” Davis went on. “You will strictly obey my orders to refrain from negotiating with the rebels, and you most certainly may not engage in combat with them. Any further disobedience will result in your being immediately placed under arrest pending court-martial proceedings, which will follow as soon as I can arrange them through the Judge Advocate-General’s department when we return to Cassius. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Steve said woodenly, forcing himself to remain expressionless.

  “You are dismissed.” With a contemptuous gesture, Captain Davis cut the transmission from his desk.

  Steve stood for a long moment at attention before the screen, biting his lip hard, desperately trying to avoid saying anything. A torrent of profane abuse might help ease his feelings, but would hardly be appropriate in the hearing of the Marines in the commcen.

  Sergeant O’Donnell appeared at his side. His expression was shocked. “Sir… I couldn’t help hearing that. I don’t know what to say. I –”

  Steve held up his hand. “Don’t say anything, Sergeant.” His voice was tight, throbbing with suppressed anger. “It is what it is. This will all come out in the wash when things get back to normal. Until then, we need to keep our composure and get on with the job at hand. Understood?”

  The NCO stiffened to a brace. “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  Steve walked out of the commcen, striding stiffly erect, looking neither to the left nor to the right, head held high.

  ~ ~ ~

  Major Emory appeared in the doorway. “Lunch, Boss? I brought you a tray.”

  Lieutenant-Colonel Battista looked up from his terminal with a grin. “Damn good idea! I see you brought one for yourself. Care to join me?”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Can we talk privately?”

  His boss’s face changed as he noticed the suppressed anger and concern on his Executive Officer’s face. “Sure. Put the food on the table in the corner and close the door.”

  He poured two cups of coffee from the thermal bottle on the counter as his subordinate did so, and carried them to the table. As he sat down he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

  “Now that the supply depot is patched into our comm network, Senior Lieutenant Maxwell was able to report to Captain Davis an hour ago. Sergeant O’Donnell was there, and he was so upset by what he heard that he contacted me privately.”

  Battista’s eyebrows shot up. “He what?”

  “Yes, I know, private conversations and all that; but in this case I think O’Donnell did the right thing. He told me to listen to the recording of the conversation. I did. You know Captain Davis’ orders about dealings with the rebels?” The Lieutenant-Colonel nodded. “Well, you aren’t going to believe this, Boss, but Davis reamed out Maxwell for what he did. He actually said – and O’Donnell says these are his exact words – ‘I don’t care about the hostages. Neither does the Department of State. Your orders were not to negotiate with the rebels, and you deliberately disobeyed them.’ He’s going to issue a formal reprimand to go on Maxwell’s record, and warned him he’ll be lucky to escape a court-martial when this is over.”

  His boss was staring at him. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I wish I was.”

  “How did Maxwell take it?”

  “Like a trooper. O’Donnell says he just stood there at attention, eyes on the camera.”

  “That’s something to be thankful for. At least he can’t be accused of insubordination.”

  “Maybe, but I’m feeling pretty insubordinate about it! I was one of the hostages involved, and I heard the rebels threaten to kill us slowly by shooting out our joints one by one. I’m not exactly in a neutral corner over this.”

  “I don’t blame you! Hell, Maxwell’s saved our asses time and time again since he landed. He got that depot up and running far faster than I’d have believed possible, and organized a hardstand to allow us to land supplies directly from space, and helped find a crew of workers who’ve made the place hum. It’s been a huge relief to me not to have to worry about it, and be able to concentrate on other things. He saved Gunnery Sergeant Kinnear’s life during that firefight the other day, and now he’s rescued you, ten other Commonwealth hostages and dozens of local ones. All that counts for a hell of a lot in my book!”

  “Mine too. He’s also the main reason the spaceport’s back in friendly hands. He set up the attack that took it back from the rebels. The Eksalansari talked about it on the way back here this morning. He says he may have given the orders, but Maxwell came up with the plan and found ways to make it happen.”

  Battista sipped slowly at his coffee, eyes far away, then set down the cup with a thump that splashed hot liquid over the table. “He’s been there for us when we needed him, so we’re going to be there for him now. I’ll be damned if I let one of the best Spacer junior officers I’ve ever met get railroaded like this!”

  “I couldn’t agree more, but what can we do? Captain Davis is the Senior Fleet Officer on this operation, and he’s got a Department of State representative breathing down his neck. If he issues a formal reprimand or launches a pre-trial investigation through the Spacer Corps chain of command, backed up by State, we’ll have no say in the matter at all.”

  “Don’t be too sure about that.” Battista’s eyes were gleaming. “Think about it. If we put all Maxwell’s accomplishments together, including rescuing the Eksalansari, defending the depot, releasing all the hostages and so on, don’t they add up to a hell of a lot?”

  “Sure.”

  “He reports to you planetside as his immediate superior officer. Here’s what I want you to do.” He explained at some length.

  Emory sat up with a jerk, his eyes wide. “Boss, I think he did damn well, and I
’d love to do that, but isn’t it an awful big stretch? That’ll have to go all the way to the Board of Admiralty on Lancaster itself. Isn’t it too much?”

  “That’s the point. If three levels of command approve and endorse something like that – in this case that’ll be you as his immediate supervisor, me as your boss, and the Commanding Officer of his ship – then according to Regulations, even if others in the chain of command don’t follow suit, it must go to the Sector Admiral. She has to decide whether it’s good enough to forward to the Board. She’s Davis’ boss too, remember?”

  Emory’s face broke into a delighted grin. “You’re a genius! If the Admiral allows Davis’ reprimand to stand she can’t do as we suggest; but that’ll raise an awful lot of Marine hackles, and our submission will still be evidence Maxwell can use in his defense if he lodges a formal protest. On the other hand, if the Admiral allows our recommendation to stand – even at a lower level – she can’t leave the reprimand on Maxwell’s record. The two would contradict each other.”

  “Precisely; and there’s another string to our bow. Didn’t you say this morning that the Eksalansari had something similar in mind?”

  “You mean…”

  “Yes. A speedy report from him, with a copy to us for information, will provide even more ammunition. We’ll file it as supporting evidence for our own recommendation.”

  Emory laughed. “That young man’s got a serious case of hero worship about Maxwell after watching him plan and execute last night’s affair. He’ll do it; but what if the Sector Admiral rejects it?”

  “She can, in theory; but it involves another government, so the Department of State will have to certify that won’t damage our relations with them.” Emory’s mouth opened in dumbfounded astonishment. “I see you understand me. State’s local representative may be backing Captain Davis all the way, but since we were sent here precisely because his department wants to improve relations with Karabak, how do you think his bosses are likely to react to the Eksalansari’s idea?”

  Emory started to laugh. “That should give them a galloping case of diplomatic schizophrenia!”

  “That’s the idea. Oh – another thing. You advised Maxwell to get copies of all relevant records, right?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Follow up on that. Make sure he gets them, and have Sergeant O’Donnell certify them as Marine Corps-verified. That way they can be used in his defense even if the originals are mislaid or reclassified.”

  “You don’t seriously think someone would try to tamper with them?”

  “They wouldn’t have to. If Maxwell’s access to records was delayed because some of them were ‘mislaid’ in the process of being filed, he might end up in bureaucratic limbo for as long as a year or two until they were ‘found’. All that time, he’d have an official reprimand on his record while being unable to mount a legal defense. That’d certainly delay his next promotion even if he was eventually able to clear his name. He’s not the kind of man to put up with that. He might even resign his commission in disgust, and we can’t afford to lose an officer that good. Let’s make sure he has all the facts he needs at his fingertips.”

  “What if he’s ordered to hand over all official records in his possession while under arrest, Sir?”

  “That’s a good point. Make sure we have extra certified copies of everything, just in case – and don’t log them, stash them somewhere private. We can always ‘lose’ them in his direction when the time comes.”

  Emory was grinning from ear to ear. “Colonel, has anyone ever accused you of being Machiavellian?”

  “Not to my face – and you’d better not be the first, Exec!”

  “Far be it from me to impugn your character, Sir.” The Exec raised his eyes piously to the ceiling.

  Grinning at each other, they settled down to eat.

  June 30th 2850 GSC, evening

  Four transporters arrived at the depot in the fading light, rolling to a halt next to the stacks of ration packs in the enclosure outside the main wall. Waiting Qianjin spacers began sliding pallets into their load beds using forklifts, while the drivers jumped down from their cabs to stretch their legs. Two escorting Marine assault shuttles landed on the hardstand nearby, the battering sound of their reaction thrusters dying away as their rear ramps swung down.

  Watching from the main gate, Steve was surprised to see Major Emory exit one of the shuttles and stride towards him. He walked to meet him, bracing to attention and saluting. “Good to see you again, Sir. What brings you out here?”

  “I’ve got some business with Sergeant O’Donnell, and I wanted to brief you on the latest developments. D’you know why we’re collecting all these ration packs?”

  “I’d wondered about that, Sir. They can’t be for the Marines, surely?”

  “No, we have our own rations. These are going to be distributed to the rebels and their hostages. They’ve been negotiating with the Governor, and threatened to kill or injure some hostages unless he provided food. He held out for a bit, but in the end he didn’t have much choice. We’ll take one transporter to each of the sites held by the rebels and leave it there for them to collect. They won’t trust the Colonial Guard that near to their perimeter, but they will trust Marines, it seems.”

  Steve frowned angrily. “After the other night I’d rather let the rebels starve, Sir, but I guess we can’t do that to the hostages.”

  “No, we can’t. Besides, it’s not our decision and these aren’t our rations. We’re just escorting them to make sure they get there safely.”

  He looked around to make sure no-one was within earshot, and lowered his voice. “There’s something else. We know what Captain Davis said to you yesterday.” Steve’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Emory held up his hand. “Don’t say anything. Lieutenant-Colonel Battista says you should keep quiet and do whatever Captain Davis orders you to do. This affair will be settled back at Cassius, not here. There are things going on that you don’t need to know about yet, because we don’t want any word of them to leak out before they’ll do the most good. Just be aware that you’re not alone and you don’t have to fight this battle on your own, OK?”

  Steve felt a rush of relief that was almost overwhelming. He’d been bottling up his feelings for the past thirty-six hours, trying desperately not to let anyone see the tension and frustration boiling inside him. “I… I don’t know how to thank you, Sir. I thought my career was as good as over.”

  “You’ve already thanked me by saving my life. I can’t rule out damage to your career, but there are countervailing arguments that might… shall we say, help to resolve the situation. Officially, this conversation never happened, all right?”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “Good. Where’s Sergeant O’Donnell?”

  “In the commcen, Sir. I was just on my way there myself.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Steve glanced through the message log while the Major spoke privately with the Sergeant. Nothing of importance had come through in the last couple of hours. He electronically signed the log to signify that he’d read it, and was about to turn away when the chime indicating an urgent operational call sounded through the commcen.

  Steve reached the console before Sergeant O’Donnell could get there, and pressed the button. “Carsamba depot here, Senior Lieutenant Maxwell speaking.”

  Lieutenant-Colonel Battista’s familiar face appeared on the screen. “Good evening, Senior Lieutenant. Is Major Emory with you?”

  “Yes, Sir.” The Major appeared beside him.

  “Good. Listen carefully, both of you. You already know that the rebel leader, Bairam, has demanded the Governor provide a spaceship to take his followers and their families away from Eskishi. He apparently has a destination in mind where he thinks they’ll be safe, although we don’t know what it is. He wants to retain the most valuable hostages in a cargo shuttle orbiting Eskishi until their guards confirm that those who left have arrived safely at th
eir destination, after which the hostages will be released. With me so far?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Emory and Steve spoke as one.

  “I’ve just learned that there’s a new twist. The Governor has agreed to make available one of the troopships – chartered freighters, actually – that are orbiting Eskishi. They brought the Colonial Guard reinforcements from Karabak. However, its crew is civilian, and they’ve flatly refused to have anything to do with the plan. Bairam knows there are Qianjin spacers among the prisoners on the planet – the same ones working for you, Lieutenant. He’s demanded that they form the crew. He’s offering safe passage to all of them in exchange for their help.”

  “But that’ll never work, Sir!” Steve exclaimed. “The Eksalansari has already promised to commute their sentences to time served. They know that if they wait a couple of weeks, they’ll all be allowed to go home. They won’t risk that to help the rebels – particularly because those same rebels attacked them some weeks ago and killed quite a few of them.”

  “Bairam isn’t planning on giving them a choice,” Battista pointed out grimly. “He’s put it to the Governor as a demand, not a request; and he clearly thinks that since they’re prisoners, they can be forced to do what he wants.”

  Steve shook his head vehemently. “Not a chance, Sir,” he said bluntly. “They’ll never agree, and after the Eksalansari’s promise there’s no way they’ll let the authorities push them around.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “As sure as I can be, Sir.”

  The Lieutenant-Colonel sighed in frustration. “I told you about this so you could brief them about the situation; but now I’m not so sure. What about this chargé d’affaires? Could he use his influence with them?”

  “It’s not ‘could he’, Sir, but ‘will he’ – and I’m pretty sure the answer will be ‘No’. After all, the Eksalansari officially informed him that he’s commuting their sentences, and he’s passed that on to the prisoners. He’ll destroy his own credibility if he has to tell them that’s no longer going to happen. For that matter, it’ll destroy the credibility of the Eskishi authorities with them. If they can’t be trusted to keep their word about the commutation, why should the prisoners trust them about anything else? Also, if the Governor no longer has the ‘carrot’ of a commutation to offer them, he also doesn’t have much of a ‘stick’ to force them to obey him. After the losses suffered by the Colonial Guards during the rebellion, and given that what’s left of them is tied up surrounding the rebel positions, he doesn’t have enough forces to send here to arrest the Qianjin spacers, even if we’d stand for that.”