He put the screen back into his pocket then looked down at Jolo and tried to sound cheerful. “Make sure to eat all of your green tonight at dinner. It'll keep you healthy and safe. Plenty of good nutrients there.” He looked Jolo in the eye and smiled. He said nothing to the man in the black suit.
That night the nurse came to bring Jolo’s dinner. He saw her standing outside the glass door. She had to pass a retinal scan before she could enter. She was always smiling and bright and he looked forward to her visits. She laid down his tray. “Is there anything else I can get for you Captain Vargas?”
He said no, then thanked her and stared down at his protein meat substitute and fed green wondering what the old chief had meant earlier. He also wondered why the nurses had to have a retinal scan to get in, and why the man in black always had to be there in the room. Even though Jolo’s memory was gone, he still had good instincts. And he was beginning to trust them more: the man in the black suit was no friend.
So Jolo did as Barthelme instructed and ate his fed green. And there at the bottom of the tray under the green stuff was a note:
There's going to be an inquisition. Be careful who you trust. The man in black is a snake. I fear for your life. Can you still handle a gun? You always hated that green. It worries me that you eat it now. I'll do what I can to help. Eat this note. It should taste better than that other stuff.
Jolo laid his head on the soft white Federation pillow. He knew that his old self had known the chief for many years, but his new self had only known the him for a few days. Even so, he felt like he could trust the man.
Computer, he thought, give me everything you’ve got on Federation inquisition protocol.
Instantly, several pages of text popped up as if on screen in his mind. Just before reading he looked over at the Fed in black. I wonder if running computer queries in my head is against Federation protocol? he thought.
He'd gotten used to the idea that the computer was embedded in his mind somehow. He didn't think the Federation had that sort of technology so it must've been done by his captors. But who had him? Obviously the BG, he thought.
There were too many questions and too few answers and now he couldn't talk freely with the one man he actually trusted.
He read the computer synopsis of Federation inquisition protocol and it scared him. An inquisition bypassed all usual Federation laws protecting citizens and was mainly used during war for war criminals and “alien acquisitions,” which meant any person, human or not, that was deemed a potential threat to the Federation. Basically, the inquisition would decide if someone was guilty of a crime or if a person could stay in Federation space. One vote each from the Federation president, the head of the BG, the current head of the merchant class, and one final vote from the Federation military alliance, usually the acting admiral, decided the fate of the accused. Persons found guilty were either sent to the edge of Federation space or killed.
Jolo wondered whether he was better off in the escape pod.
Computer, who is the acting admiral of the military? he thought.
Silas Filcher, came the reply.
The name sounded familiar to Jolo. And then he remembered. Filcher was number two on his boat. So maybe I'll get one vote, he thought.
Right before bed he always thought about the girl.
Computer, search for Jaylen Voss.
No data, came the reply. As always.
Inquisition
Federation Home Word: Sol.
Federation Hall of Justice.
Jolo didn't have to wait long for the Inquisition. Exactly one day after he saw Barthelme, he was dragged off to the Federation Hall of Justice adjacent to the Federation Plaza. They dressed him in an orange jumpsuit with the requisite prisoner’s collar as if he were a criminal.
He was escorted by Federation military police, the man in the black suit following close behind. They led him into a large hall and he stood in the middle. It was like a large circular sports arena and he was the star of the show. The merchant class was there with their fine robes, shiny rings, puffy fat cheeks, and looking like they couldn't wait for lunch.
The president was there with his staff, as was the military. One large section was empty, which Jolo figured was reserved for the Bakanhe Grana. It wasn't long before a long procession of black-robed, metallic BG filed into the hall. At first Jolo thought they were in battle armor but then he realized, they were the BG, the living part of them nothing more than a large worm encased in an alacyte chest plate. There were 20 or so warriors followed by the Emperor himself. He was larger than the rest and wore a long black cape. None of them had eyes, just red slits that housed their ocular receptors. Their arms and limbs were purely mechanical. But they moved with elegance and grace, as if they were made of living tissue instead of alacyte segments and actuators.
Jolo stared out into the crowd and wondered who his friends were. Did he have any? He searched for Barthelme and found him in the middle of the military section. He caught his eye and could see that the older man was strained.
Once everyone was settled down, the president stood up and addressed the crowd. "Thank you all for coming, especially on such short notice.” And then the president nodded towards the merchants, and then to the military, and finally to the BG. He placed his hands on his forehead and welcomed them in their language: "Kirekureta arangrada, Grana sama."
“We are here today to discuss several important matters concerning our new alliance and the health and safety of the Federation. Our hard fought peace has finally been achieved with the gracious help of the BG,” said the president, again bowing deeply towards the emperor with a smile. And then he nodded in the direction of the blue-uniformed military section, “And, of course, with the help of the Federation military.”
“First up for discussion is the small matter of the alien acquisition which defied Federation regulation by landing on Duval without proper authorization. An offense of this magnitude usually results in immediate eradication, but the wise Captain Barthelme decided to allow the offending ship the right to land. We shall decide today whether this action was born out of judicious counsel or merely just an error by a relatively new captain of the Federation.”
At this point one of the military contingent yelled out, “The man in the ship is not an alien acquisition, he is one of us. He is Jolo Vargas!”
The whole room erupted in argument and the president held both hands up. "And that is exactly what we shall decide today. Whether this man is who he says he is, or perhaps something else entirely. I would like to remind the military, our merchant brothers, and all present to please speak when it is your turn to speak. I now have the floor. I would like to also remind all of you of the great threat that was thankfully annihilated by our good allies the BG. Were it not for them defeating the synthetic humanoid invasion, we might not all be here today.”
Computer, Jolo thought, define synthetic invasion, limit results to last five years and involving Federation planets. Digest version.
Instantly text popped up his mind.
Two years ago, in the middle of the Federation’s war with the BG, a new threat to all worlds arose, which was called the synthetic humanoid invasion. Vellosian humanoid synthetic beings were rounded up and accused of a plot against the Federation. This was during the BG and Federation war. The BG and the Federation created an alliance to destroy the humanoid synthetic population. Soon after, the whole planet of Vellos was accused of attempting to create a synthetic army whose mission was to dismantle the Federation and to eliminate the Bakanhe Grana. The BG ultimately destroyed the Vellosian home world and afterwards the Federation peace accord was signed and the current peace became a reality.
The president continued, “It is our task today to decide whether this alien acquisition is, in fact, the man who he claims to be, or merely a synth spy.”
And then began a long line of questioning from each faction. The merchants were concerned because an unauthorized space ship made it past the outer p
atrols.
“Why did you not respond to the hails?” their leader asked.
“I had no communication,” said Jolo.
“Why did you land on Duval?” they asked.
“My life-support was down. I had to land immediately. Duval was the closest planet.”
“But why not Tichel?”
“I'm not sure,” said Jolo. “It just felt right. I looked out the view port and saw the stars there, and I had a good feeling about it.”
At that, someone from the merchant faction blurted out, “He was attempting to infiltrate the alacyte production operations on Duval. There can be no other explanation.”
Again the room erupted in argument. Next, the Federation doctor who examined Jolo was brought out. He confirmed that all scans of Jolo indicated he was, in fact, human. But then the president spoke up, “Dr. Johnston, are your scans infallible?”
“No, sir, they are not.”
“Could this person here standing before us be a synthetic life form?”
“Well, I suppose, there is a possibility. Towards the end of the war there were rumors of advanced synths that could pass through Federation scans.”
And then the president quickly dismissed the doctor before he could say anything else. “I now would like to call down our esteemed military advisor, Captain Barthelme, of the recon ship Valhalla II.”
Captain Barthelme was brought down to the floor. His face was red and sweaty. The president wasted no time. “Captain please state your name for the record.”
“Franklin John Barthelme, Federation captain, Valhalla II, reconnaissance.”
“Captain, were you not a member of the expeditionary force led by Captain Jolo Vargas in the final campaign in the spring two years ago on Montag in Vellosian space?”
“Yes, that's correct.”
“And did you not fight side-by-side with Captain Vargas against the BG in the final battle on the beach at San Miguel?”
“Yes, that's correct.”
“Can you tell us what happened there?”
“Yes. Captain Vargas was leading a small ground force, myself included, to take out the main power station the BG were using to supply most of their weaponry.”
“And were you successful?” said the president.
“At first, yes. We made it to main power station without much issue, but then a large BG destroyer jumped in at the last moment.”
“And then what happened?” said the president.
“And then we were defeated.” At this point, Captain Barthelme looked down at his shoes and took a deep breath.
“And what did you see right at the end before you blacked out?”
“I saw Captain Vargas.”
“You saw Captain Vargas? And what condition was Captain Vargas in at that moment?”
“It was bad.”
“How bad?”
Barthelme looked up at Vargas with a pained expression. “Very bad,” he said, finally.
“And after you made it out, what was your exact comment to then Commander Filcher?”
Another deep breath from Barthelme. The audience started to grumble. So the president repeated question and waited.
Finally the captain said, “I said that Vargas was dead.”
“Could you repeat that so everyone can hear?”
“I said that Vargas was dead.”
“And how did you know Vargas was dead?”
“I saw his body. He was torn up pretty bad. He wasn't breathing. Those of us who escaped barely got out alive. The med bots brought back the wounded, but Captain Vargas was not among them.”
“So the med bots, who are programmed to recover living comrades and leave the dead, left Vargas on the field of battle?” said the president.
“Yes.”
“So you were surprised when you saw him the other day on your reconnaissance mission?”
“Yes, I was.”
“But you think it's Vargas?”
“Yes, I do. I don't know how, but it's Vargas.”
“Thank you for your testimony, Captain,” said the president.
At this point the emperor of the BG stood and strolled into the circle. “Where have you been for the last two years?” he asked Jolo with near perfect core world pronunciation, though slightly marred by a very faint buzzing hiss at the end of each sentence.
“I don't know,” said Jolo.
The emperor was several feet taller than Jolo. And he walked around the man like a shark moving in for the kill. “So you remember nothing in all of that time?”
“That's correct.”
“How convenient. Do you remember who you are?” Jolo did not reply. “Do you remember your crew? Do you remember the name of the ship you were the captain of?”
“I was the captain of the gunboat Jessica. Captain Barthelme was my chief.”
“And do you remember any others? Or is that it?”
“I remember Filcher, he was number 2. And I remember the ensign, Jaylen Voss.” The Emperor looked over to the military faction.
“Is there a Jaylen Voss in the Federation?” he asked. A small man at the front with a screen did a quick search and then shook his head, no.
Jolo ran over to the man, but he was stopped before he got there by two Federation guards.
“There was a Jaylen Voss” he screamed. “I'm sure of that. I remember her.”
“So let's see,” said the BG emperor, “you only know two men from your former command, and I think the crew number is around fifteen. And yet you remember one person who was not even there. Where were you born and what is your father's name?”
“I don't know.”
The BG Emperor turned to address the crowd. “This man is not Jolo Vargas. Vargas was your war hero, but he was my bitter enemy as well. That one man did more damage to my people than any one man in history. And this thing here is nothing more than a deluded humanoid. And we have more important business to discuss.”
The emperor nodded slightly to the president and sat down. “So we have a dead man,” said the president, “who has come back to life, ostensibly. He returned in a relic Racellian escape pod capable of traveling 8 jumps from the beyond into Federation space. He could have come from anywhere. At this time I'd like for everyone to consider for a moment the testimony that you have heard, and when you are ready, place your vote.”
And just like that the inquiry was over and Jolo was taken to a holding cell two levels down. There were guards at the entrance of the holding cells, each with short-range energy weapons. Each cell had concrete floors, smooth white walls and a clear energy field wall closest to the corridor.
Jolo laid down on the cot and stared up at the white ceiling wondering what to do next. Wondering what awaited him on a BG prison planet. How could he have come so far to end up here? This was worse than the escape pod, he decided. At least in the escape pod he had some recourse. He could take some action. He could die trying to save himself. But this was something different altogether.
He couldn't sleep. And it pained him to think of the girl. If he couldn't escape this how could he find her? And why wasn’t she in the Fed records?
Jail
Federation Home Word: Sol.
Hall of Justice, Holding Facility, sub-level B.
That night Jolo drifted in and out of sleep. It was cold and there was no blanket, and nothing but a hole in the floor for a toilet. There were no sounds coming from any of the other cells, so he figured he was alone. He thought to query the computer, but what would he ask: Who am I? Where am I?
In the early morning he finally fell into a fitful sleep. His mind was full of fear and worry, and this crept into his dreams as well. He dreamed Jaylen was held by the BG in a prison. She was tired and pale, her lips a thin, tight line across her face instead of her usual smile. She looked skinny and frail and he wanted to help her. And then his dreams got all crazy because suddenly there were hundreds of Jaylen's walking around at the prison facility. Those big, shiny black, BG monsters were there car
rying long poles. And they prodded the prisoners, shocks of energy flowing through their bodies, and they fell to the ground, writhing in pain. And then the dream changed and there were other creatures there. The BG were corralling tall, green humanoids into a large place surrounded by an energy field fence. It was dark at night there, with the funny trees again that he'd seen before, the ones with the three large leaves. They might have been nice in another situation, and another time.
Jolo woke up because someone had grabbed his shoulder and was shaking him violently. He opened his eyes and there was a large dark figure standing in front of him. For a moment he couldn't tell who it was, but then he realized it was Captain Barthelme.
“How did you get here?”
“No time for that. I'm the captain of a Federation boat. I have at least a few friends.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because you going to escape right now.”
“Jolo sat upright in bed and tried to clear his head. How did you get past the guards?”
“There’s no time for that. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes,” Jolo blurted out. “But what about this collar?”
“I'm going to cut it,” said Barthelme.
“But then everyone's going to know, right?”
“Yeah, that's the tricky part. When I cut this thing you've only got about two minutes before the dogs of hell rain down on you. It'll probably be the patrol in the Plaza. They're all regulars, they don't have any experience like you have. You should be able to get through them with no problems. They're all green.”
“Uh. How my supposed to get through them?”
“You are Jolo Vargas. Figure it out.”
“No. I'm just some guy who can't remember anything. And they tell me that I'm Jolo Vargas, some guy who is a hero. But I'm just a guy who doesn't remember anything.”
“Look at me right now,” said Barthelme. He grabbed Jolo's shirt with both hands and pulled him close. The old man's face was red and he had a wild look in his eyes. “I'm putting my life on the line for you. I'm putting my career on the line for you. I have a family.”
The Lost Gunboat Captain (The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Book 1) Page 5
