A Just Determination (36 page)

"I can't promise that, Captain Holmes, but I think it's very likely. We still have the bulk of the afternoon and all evening to deliberate on this."

"Will ten hundred be an appropriate time to convene tomorrow?"

"I'd prefer oh-nine hundred, Captain Holmes. We ship-drivers start to go a little stir crazy if we can't start work until ten hundred."

"Very well. The court-martial is closed, and will reconvene tomorrow morning at oh-nine hundred in this courtroom."

* * *

Kris Denaldo gazed back at the door to the courtroom. "Well, tomorrow the wait is over. We find out what happens to Wakeman. It's going to be a long night for some people." She shifted her eyes to look at Paul and Jen. "I'm sure it'll pass quickly for you two, though."

Jen made a face. "Very funny. I've got duty tomorrow. First watch. I can't risk being late for that, so I'm sleeping on board tonight."

"Oh? Well, I guess I could get a rent-a-shack if you need privacy."

"I am
not
going to be in need of privacy, thank you, Miss Denaldo. You know that sort of thing isn't allowed on a ship."

"You think you'll get caught?"

"Even if we don't, the crew has a way of finding out about that sort of thing. Which I don't need. And if we did get caught, I'd end up in Herdez's stateroom getting a lecture on keeping my raging hormones under control. Which I need even less."

"Oh, okay." Kris grinned mischievously. "In that case, Paul, I'm available if you need any company tonight."

"Back off, Denaldo! He's mine." Jen glared at Paul. "You'd better not even be thinking about it."

"I'm not. I'm too nervous to think about anything much but that verdict tomorrow. I guess I'll stay on the ship, too."

"Don't get any ideas. I meant what I said."

"I never doubted it. But we've watched a lot of movies on duty nights, right?"

"Okay. As long as you don't try to hold my hand."

"Can I do the yawn and stretch bit where my arm comes down around your shoulders?"

"You can if you want to lose your arm," Jen answered with a grin. "Any other questions?"

"No goopy-eyes?"

"Definitely no goopy-eyes. See ya, Kris."

They headed back toward the ship, quiet for a few moments. Paul, despite his worries, savored the sensation of Jen being near. "Jen, can I ask you something?"

"Maybe. What?"

"What's 'Jen' short for?"

She gave him a flat look. "Jenevieve."

"Jenevieve?"

"Is something funny?"

"No, no. It's just . . . you don't seem like a Jenevieve."

"Which is why everyone calls me Jen. And everyone will continue calling me Jen. Right?"

"Right."

"Good. Don't walk so close."

Paul edged out about a foot. "This isn't going to be easy."

"I never said it would be. Am I worth it?"

"Absolutely."

"Then stop complaining." But she grinned to take any sting out of the words. "What kind of movie are you interested in?"

"I don't know. Something mindless."

"With or without explosions?"

"Uh . . . doesn't matter."

"Mindless and with or without explosions? I think we have a few hundred movies in the ship's database that fit that description. Maybe we'll just do a random pull and see what pops up."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

"Admiral Fowler, have the members reached findings?"

"They have."

Paul was seated in the back, with Carl and Kris. Jen had been the officer of the deck on the quarterdeck when he left, waving a brief hello before returning his salute and granting permission to leave the ship. She'd miss the climax of the whole proceeding, but there really wasn't any way to justify asking that Jen be excused from duty just to watch a result which most of the other officers from the
Michaelson
were present for.

"Are the findings on Appellate Exhibit Seven?"

"Yes."

"Would the trial counsel, without examining it, please bring me Appellate Exhibit Seven?" A long minute passed while Judge Holmes studied the exhibit, her expression providing no clue as its content. "I have examined Appellate Exhibit Seven. It appears to be in proper form. Please return it to the president." Holmes looked directly at Wakeman. "Captain Wakeman, would you and your counsel stand up please. Admiral Fowler, announce the findings, please."

Fowler looked around the room, his eyes lingering for just a moment on most of those present before returning to the document he held. "Captain Peter Wakeman, this court-martial finds you guilty of one count of violating Article 92, Failure to Obey Order or Regulation, as to the ninth specification, derelict in exercising command functions during crisis, and one count of violating Article 111, Drunken or Reckless Operation of Vehicle, Aircraft or Vessel, by failing to order necessary maneuvers to open the projected closest point of approach for another ship on a near-collision course. This court-martial finds you not guilty of all other charges and specifications."

"Does defense counsel wish to present any matters in extenuation or mitigation?"

Garrity glanced at Wakeman, who was sitting rigid next to her. "No, Your Honor."

"Admiral Fowler, have the members reached a sentence, or do you require further time for deliberations?"

"The members have reached a sentence."

"Admiral Fowler, would you announce the sentence please."

"Captain Wakeman, this court-martial sentences you to receive a letter of reprimand, to be placed in your permanent service record, for your failure to exercise command functions and your reckless operation of the spacecraft entrusted to your command by the United States Navy. It is also the unanimous recommendation of this court-martial that your qualifications to command units of the United States Navy or other portions of the Armed Forces of the United States be reviewed to determine whether sufficient grounds exist for their being revoked for cause."

Paul blew out a long, slow breath.
They didn't convict him of very much, but they're still hanging Wakeman in a way. His career is dead from this point forward, and everything he may have accomplished in the past is now overshadowed by this verdict and sentence. He'll never be promoted again, and if he's smart he'll retire as fast as he can put his papers in. I guess that's the bone being thrown to the SASALs. We're not saying we're at fault, but we're not letting the individual directly responsible off, either. Is that just? I think so. Wakeman is getting what he deserves and no more than that
.

But, then, I didn't have relatives among that SASAL crew. Nothing we could have done to Wakeman would have brought them back, though.

Fowler looked around the court room, then nodded to Judge Holmes. "That's all."

"Thank you, Admiral." Holmes called Wakeman to his feet again and began reciting a long statement regarding Wakeman's right to appeal and the judicial review process which the court-martial's record would undergo. Paul let his attention wander from the legal boilerplate, really relaxing for the first time in he didn't know how long. A momentary silence caught his attention again, and he saw Judge Holmes scanning the court room. "The court-martial is adjourned."

* * *

Paul sat still while everyone filed out of the courtroom, waiting until almost all the others had left before approaching Lieutenant Commander Garrity at the defense table. "Ma'am, is there anything else I need to do?"

She smiled at him. "No, Ensign Sinclair. You did everything you needed to do."

Captain Wakeman, who'd been sitting silently since the court-martial adjourned, stood up abruptly. Wakeman faced Paul, his expression stern yet also indecisive, then shook his head and walked away without a word.

For some reason, despite everything which had happened, Wakeman's reaction still stung Paul. "I don't suppose I should have expected Captain Wakeman to thank me."

Garrity looked at Wakeman's back as he left the courtroom. "I don't think I'm abusing attorney-client privilege if I tell you that Captain Wakeman probably didn't thank you because he genuinely has no idea why you testified in his defense. His universe doesn't have much room in it for the concept of altruism."

"I should know him well enough to understand that without your telling me. But . . ."

"He's probably also still trying to figure out what you hoped to gain by doing it."

"Ma'am, I'm still not sure of that myself." Paul caught a glimpse of Kris Denaldo standing for a moment just outside the door, and felt a sudden chill as the conversation and the sight of her brought to his mind something which hadn't occurred to him before.
Kris told me Jen admired my idealism. But Jen doesn't like people who have weak characters. If Jen had known I was unhappy with what was being done to Wakeman but that I didn't have enough guts to do anything about it, would she have reached the same decision about us? Was it just her orders to the
Maury
that made up her mind, or did my decision play a part, too? She'll probably never tell me, but if I know Jen, I also know it mattered to her, perhaps enough to make all the difference
. "Maybe I did gain something very important. Something I had no idea was on the line."

"Besides your self-respect, and the knowledge you have the resolve to act upon what you believe in? Those aren't small things."

"No, they aren't. But the other thing's really important. To me, anyway. At least, I hope it turns out to be. Thank you, Commander Garrity."

"Don't you be thanking me, Ensign Sinclair." She offered Paul a handshake. "Thank
you
. I can honestly say that your testimony is most likely the only thing that kept Captain Wakeman from being convicted on at least a few more of the most serious charges, and suffering a much more severe sentence. The prosecution clearly established that Captain Wakeman failed in many respects to live up to the leadership responsibilities of a ship's commanding officer. As Captain of the USS
Michaelson
, he would have been responsible for what he described as the failure of his crew to be able carry out their duties. But even in his defense I couldn't find much evidence of such a failure."

"Then why didn't the court-martial hammer Wakeman? If they thought the crew wasn't responsible, then Wakeman would've had to be the one who failed."

Garrity nodded. "There's no question that had Captain Wakeman paid more attention to the support some of his crew offered, he would not have found himself and his ship confronting the situation they did. I'm only guessing, but I believe the members concluded that Captain Wakeman's failure to listen to his officers and subsequent flawed decisions didn't rise to the necessary levels of culpable negligence or dereliction of duty needed to convict Wakeman on those charges. I've no doubt the members disapproved of Wakeman's decisions, but it's a fact of naval service that when Captain Wakeman was placed in command of the USS
Michaelson
he was granted the authority to use his own discretion for better or worse. And your testimony established that his orders left reasonable room for arguing that Wakeman's decisions fell within the wide discretionary boundaries established by those orders. Thanks for playing such a critical role in the case, although I admit neither I nor anyone else expected that of you when all this started."

Paul took the offered hand, shaking his head as he did so. "My testimony couldn't have been that important. Commander Herdez—"

"Commander Herdez is obviously an excellent officer, and equally obviously an officer who believes it is her duty to support her commanding officer. That loyalty is commendable but since it left Commander Herdez little room to testify in any other way than she did, her testimony didn't carry nearly as much weight as it otherwise would have. You, on the other hand, had no obvious motive for your testimony. You're clearly not stupid, so you couldn't have believed that hitching your wagon to Wakeman would be a good career move. You didn't like the man and you didn't like what he'd done. But you still felt obligated by a higher sense of duty to testify in his favor. I guarantee you the members of court-martial were impressed by that."

"Well . . . thank you, ma'am."

"Are you sure you're not interested in becoming a lawyer?"

"No, ma'am! No offense."

"That's okay, Mr. Sinclair. Good-bye and good luck."

Paul headed for the door, seeing that everyone else from the
Michaelson
had now left. He was almost there when Commander Herdez appeared in the opening. "Ensign Sinclair."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Would you care to accompany me to the officer's club bar?"

"Ma'am?" Paul looked around, expecting to see other officers who'd been invited to the same location.
They must already be on the way there
. "Certainly, ma'am."

But when they reached the bar it was empty but for one table where Admiral Fowler and Captain Nguyen were already kicking back and swapping sea stories. Herdez stopped briefly to pay them her respects, then led Paul to the far side of the bar. "What are you drinking, Mr. Sinclair?"

"Rum and Coke, ma'am."

"A good choice. I'll have the same." Herdez sat silently until their drinks came, then for a few moments longer, taking an occasional sip of her drink. "They serve good rum here. Barbados. Martinique. Saint Croix. Have you been to the Caribbean, Mr. Sinclair?"

"Just on training cruises, ma'am."

"A lot of fine sailors left their bones in those waters, Mr. Sinclair. We carry a considerable burden when we don these uniforms. We need to live up to those sailors' finest moments, and avoid their worst failures. Both as officers and as individuals." Paul, uncertain as to what if anything to say, waited until Herdez spoke again. "Captain Wakeman is not the finest officer I ever served under. I know you're well aware of his shortcomings. It's easy to follow great leaders, Mr. Sinclair. They make it easy. You accomplish great things because they make it easy. The challenge for all of us is to succeed when we do not benefit from a great leader."

"I never thought about that before, ma'am. But that's true."

"I know how the junior officers think, Mr. Sinclair. I was actually an ensign once, myself." Herdez smiled sardonically as she took another drink. "They wondered why I backed Captain Wakeman the way I did, even when the captain's actions were clearly unprofessional or mistaken. You've wondered that, haven't you?"