With Tu-Ker’s battle group protecting them, morale aboard Rekesh and Starhopper soared. The fresh supplies they brought helped even more.
Nevertheless, as jump after jump came and went and time dragged, it became increasingly difficult to maintain that initial high morale. Minor irritations became major confrontations. Fights became more and more frequent. As quickly as it had risen, morale plummeted.
Once more Kas was grateful for the presence of Lady Jane. As a civilian, she was outside the military chain of command, and her friendly good humor made her as welcome in the crew’s mess as the wardroom. Kas learned of several instances in which she had stopped trouble before it started. After several weeks of increasing violence, she appointed herself unofficial morale officer, and enlisted the help of Lordsgrace Worshipful, the Commissary Officer. Together, they devised a series of games and contests featuring minor prizes looted from Rekesh ’s cavernous supply stores. Kas first learned of it because he had to authorize issuing some of the Fleet supplies for the prizes, but he became an enthusiastic promoter, and soon ship-wide team competitions were underway.
Unsurprisingly, it worked. The air of tension eased noticeably.
Another positive factor was that the personnel were coming to form a bond. They were becoming a crew instead of a collection of strangers. In a strange way their isolation, the fact that they knew they were confined to their ships, helped mold them into a cohesive group. They knew they had done nothing wrong, and they knew there was no threat of plague, and they were both derisive and resentful of the limitations inflicted on them by the politicians. Pride in being Fleet surged, and even the civilians became unofficial ‘members’.
Kas made no effort to curb this “us-against-them” attitude. It was proving very valuable in maintaining morale. He was careful, however, to leak enough information to make certain that the Empire’s civilian politicians, and not the Fleet, were identified as the “them” involved.
Still, time was heavy on their hands and Kas’ officers had to resume searching for stills — new ones. Kas was forced to order more floggings, and had one petty officer put into cold sleep to await a court martial upon their return to the Empire.
Tu-Ker did what he could; Rekesh and Starhopper enjoyed all the latest holovids and any other luxuries he could think of, and he even sent over wardroom supplies with specific, if unofficial, instructions that they be used to feed the crew instead of the officers.
Nevertheless, the time did pass. They began counting down to the end of the mission in weeks instead of months, then days.
As they entered the final jump, Kas’ relief was tempered by a rise in his own anxiety. Was this where his career would end? How long would he be imprisoned aboard Rekesh? The newsies Tu-Ker had brought led him to suspect he was destined to be a sacrificial lamb for the imperial senate. He was being savagely attacked almost daily, his name and reputation ruthlessly vilified. After reading the newsies he was beginning to think the worst thing that could happen to him would be to be released on nearly any Empire planet. He would probably be lynched.
Once again, Lady Jane helped. She relieved his depression and fear with jokes and tenderness. She joked that perhaps Fleet Intelligence could provide him with a new identity, and promised to smuggle him to the Alliance. By the time they had finished projecting wilder and wilder scenarios of his possible future, they were both roaring with laughter.
However, Kas knew his situation was no joke. His career and his life were on the line.
Tu-Ker was also supportive, but he did not minimize the gravity of the situation.
“When we arrive,” he mentioned as he briefed Kas, “We’ll be greeted by the largest battle fleet ever assembled.” He shrugged. “Sheol, when was the last time two battle cruisers and four destroyers were dispatched on convoy duty?”
Kas frowned. “Never, to my knowledge.”
The admiral nodded. “Exactly. But the assembled fleet is so huge that my little group was hardly missed. They’ve even brought out the old Atropos!”
Kas started in surprise. “The dreadnought? It must have taken months to get her spaceworthy!”
Tu-Ker grinned sourly. “It did. But when Ta-Lank and a bunch of other senators formed a committee and demanded to be there when you arrived, the Emperor decided a dreadnought was the only ship large enough to accommodate all of them and all of their staffs.” He snorted in disgust.
“I think Pankin himself might be coming out,” he continued. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t think there’s been anything like it!”
Kas was stunned. “The Grand Admiral? Here?” He paused to collect his thoughts. “I’m in really big trouble, aren’t I, sir?”
Tu-Ker nodded soberly. “I’m afraid so. But it’s not just you. It is everyone aboard your ships. And maybe everyone in the entire Fleet. Practically everyone in the Empire thinks you are the greatest threat since the Horsehead Rebellion five hundred years ago. And they may be right.”
He waved a hand. “Oh, I don’t mean that ridiculous pirate or plague nonsense either. But what happens if that damned senate committee demands you be destroyed? Would the fleet fire on someone they know was just doing their job? Would Pankin order it? And what happens if he or they refuse? And what would the Emperor do? You could touch off a civil war that’d make the Horsehead Rebellion look like a border skirmish!”
His expression became thoughtful for a moment. Then, “You have a reputation for thinking fast on your feet. I hope it is true. For all our sakes.”
As soon as they emerged, Kas was ordered to cancel all vectors relative to the system’s sun. Then he and his crew watched incredulously as no less than eight battle cruisers quickly formed a globe around his ships. All but two of the Empire’s entire fleet of battle cruisers was now in this empty outlying system. Sixteen destroyers and a virtual cloud of auxiliaries supported them.
Finally, hovering just inside the battle cruisers’ englobement hung the huge Atropos. A sphere a kilometer in diameter, she dwarfed her accompanying battle cruisers. She bristled with hundreds of laser, particle beam, and projectile emplacements. Tu-Ker had been right. This was the largest battle fleet ever assembled. And they were here for him! He forced down a surge of fear.
As soon as his ships were stationary relative to their “escort,” Kas fled to his office to report to the Admiral in command, Fleet Admiral Rev Pankin.
The face that appeared was not Pankin’s, though. It belonged to Captain Froud, the Grand Admiral’s Chief of Staff, and it wore a sympathetic and slightly embarrassed expression.
“Good day, Commodore. The Grand Admiral is expecting your call, of course. For security reasons he requests that you report via laser com.”
“Of course, Captain,” Kas replied stiffly. “I’ll establish laser com immediately.”
Froud paused. “Please use a minimum-diameter beam, sir.” Kas nodded. Froud did not have to add that it was very likely that the senators would try to eavesdrop on even a laser com transmission. As they were on the same ship as the Grand Admiral, that would be difficult but not impossible. A minimum-diameter beam would be less than a centimeter across, and would require careful tending to stay focused on one of Atropos ’ antennae. It was the closest thing possible to an untappable com.
As soon as the connection was established, an obviously embarrassed Pankin appeared. “Good day, Commodore. Are you impressed by your welcoming committee?”
“Good day, sir. Impressed is not the word. Terrified would be more accurate.”
Pankin looked angry and very uncomfortable. “This is the silliest damned thing in the history of the Empire,” he began. After a moment, he continued in a more businesslike tone, “All right, let’s get the crap out of the way.”
He flipped a switch on his desk — evidently, he was recording his next words. “First, I have been ordered to inform you that you are to consider yourself and the crews of both your ships under arrest pending an investigation into your conduct during this mission, and that of your officers and crews.
“Second, both ships are also considered under medical quarantine. In addition, by action of the imperial Senate your status is considered the same as that of ships bearing active plague beacons. Any boat or launch attempting to leave either vessel will be fired upon and destroyed. Any attempt by either vessel to initiate boost will be considered an attempt to escape, and the ship will be destroyed.
“Third, you are ordered to cooperate with all legally-constituted investigative bodies to the limit of your ability, and you will pass this order to your crews. You are warned that failure to cooperate with any such body may be considered disobedience of this direct order. Do you understand the orders you have just been given?”
“I understand, sir,” Kas replied grimly, “I and my people will of course obey, though I am unaware of any offenses committed by myself or my people.”
Pankin nodded, his expression changing to one of relief. He nodded. “Very well, Commodore. There is a senatorial investigating committee now on board Atropos, and a legally binding subpoena has been delivered to me ordering you to appear before the committee by vid at 1600 tomorrow. You are ordered to appear at the designated time. Do you understand this order?”
Obviously, all Pankin wanted was a bare acceptance on the recording. Presumably, more information would be forthcoming once the recorder was turned off.
“Yes, sir, I understand. I will be available at 1600 tomorrow.”
Pankin nodded and flipped the switch off. Then he breathed a huge sigh. “Kas, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. This whole episode disgusts me. I came out here to make certain you receive every possible aid. To do that, I’ll need your mission report as soon as possible.”
“No problem, sir. I have been working on it for days. I’ll need to bring it up to this point to make the report complete, but that shouldn’t take long.”
Pankin nodded approvingly. “Excellent. However, I think you should know that damned committee has already subpoenaed your report, so you might want to review it before you send it. Make sure it does not say anything that might make you a target. Transmit it by minimum laser com as soon as you finish it.” He straightened. “Now. You have to appear in front of that damned committee, of course. They’ll probably grill you over every detail of the mission, and second-guess every decision you made. Be prepared for a lot of silly questions about that fool Lu-Jenks.
“Since this stupid committee is an investigative body only, you’re not entitled to have a lawyer present. But the Fleet Judge Advocate General himself is standing by to advise you any time you want him.”
Pankin cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Uh, He’s already asked me to tell you to be very careful what you say about the Lu-Jenks incident. My intentions were good, but by stopping that court-martial, it seems I have left you hanging. This fool committee can reinstate the charges. Since the court never took place, jeopardy did not attach, and double jeopardy doesn’t apply. So watch yourself. The JAG recommends that you cite the Charter and refuse to answer any questions about the incident.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. These people are powerful, and it would not be wise to offend them unnecessarily. But I’d agree that any answer that compromises your possible defense at a future court-martial should be avoided.”
“Understood, sir.”
Of course, Kas’ ships were now receiving the commercial vid channels and newsies. Every channel and every newsie seemed obsessed with Kas and his ships. Several of the senators who would make up the committee he was to face were interviewed. All of their comments could have been summed up in five words: “We’re going to get Preslin!” So much for senatorial impartiality.
The session was every bit as bad as Kas feared. There were five senators on the panel but it was obvious from the start that the one seated in the center, Ta-Lank himself, was the one that really mattered.
Since he was sitting it was hard to be sure, but Kas thought that Ta-Lank was unusually tall. Certainly, he was thin. His head was shaved which, when combined with his cadaverous body gave him a skull-like appearance. His voice though was soft and melodious. Kas decided that the man’s voice was what had originally gotten him elected to the Senate. However, his eyes were hard and hostile. In fact, none of the faces on the committee revealed anything but hostility.
“Good day, Commodore,” Ta-Lank began in that strangely melodious voice. “This committee has been empowered by the imperial senate to investigate the conduct of your latest mission. Be warned: we will not permit you to put the billions of people of the Empire at risk. Nor will we tolerate any attempts at mutiny or sedition. At the slightest indication of risk to the Empire, your ships will be destroyed. Now, have you any preliminary remarks?”
Kas smiled at him. “Only that there is no risk to the Empire in Vir Rekesh or Starhopper. Our mission has been a complete success and we have retrieved a warship of immense value to the Empire, as well as preventing it from falling into unfriendly hands. As for me personally, I’ve spent more than twenty-five years protecting the Empire, not threatening it.”
Ta-Lank’s smile was mocking. It was obvious that this meeting was being recorded, and he was playing for the cameras. “No risk? You don’t consider a plague that killed over three thousand people a risk?”
Kas shook his head. “No, sir, I don’t. Thanks to the efforts of the ship’s last commanding officer, Dr. Ver Ro-Lecton, the Empire’s foremost epidemiologist, and his equally distinguished medical team, the plague was eradicated aboard Vir Rekesh.”
“How can you know that? You can’t know that!” The senator that spoke was on the left end. His handsome features fairly screamed “body sculpture,” but his voice was high-pitched and scratchy.
Kas sighed. “We know that because one of the medical team became infected and almost died. Dr. Ro-Lecton’s serum saved her, and no one injected with the serum has shown any symptoms. We know that because we have spent more than nine months aboard her, and the records of the original plague indicate an incubation period of only ten days to two weeks. We know that because Vir Rekesh was open to space for nearly a century.”
Ta-Lank was glaring at the other senator. He had not intended to give Kas a chance to have his say this soon, if at all.
“Yes, well, we’ll see about that, Commodore. I am afraid we cannot just accept your word for such an important fact.
“Now,” he resumed briskly. “This committee has only just received a copy of your report to Fleet HQ. We have not had time to review it completely, but we can pose some preliminary questions. Would it be fair, Commodore, to say that you are familiar with the broad outlines of interstellar law?”
Kas shrugged. “I suppose so, sir. An educated layman’s familiarity. I’m certainly no expert on it.”
“But you are aware that intrusion of an armed Fleet vessel into space claimed by another entity is forbidden by interstellar law? And that such intrusion is considered an act of aggression?”
Kas could see where this was headed. “Yes, sir.”
“’Yes, sir’,” Ta-Lank repeated. “Yet despite that knowledge, isn’t it true that you took an armed Fleet vessel and intruded into the claimed space of neighboring entities? And isn’t it true that you did so using falsified documents?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you admit to violations of interstellar law, treaties, and conventions. You stand condemned out of your own mouth. What have you to say in your own defense?”
Finally, Kas thought. “I was ordered on a mission, the first part of which was covert. The ship, as you noted, was a Fleet vessel specifically prepared for this mission. Fleet Intelligence created the documents you mention. For my part I was, and am, a Fleet officer, carrying out the orders of a senior Fleet officer with the obvious approval of high imperial authority. Were you under the impression that I simply cooked up some papers in my cabin one lonely night, then built and armed a ship, all without the knowledge or approval of the Imperial Government?”
“Hmph,” the senator grunted. “And did your orders include a ruthless attack on a civilian vessel and the murder of what I am told is over a hundred innocent people?”
It took Kas a few seconds to understand what Ta-Lank was talking about. Suddenly it hit him, and he snorted.
“I can only assume that what you are talking about is the destruction of a corvette showing no ident beacon, occupied by Glory military personnel without insignia. In other words, a Glory ‘pirate’. It is well known that the Glory uses such vessels so that it can deny responsibility for such intrusions as you have mentioned. I did fire on and destroy that vessel in order to rescue a civilian freighter she was attacking at the time.”
“So you say!” It was another of the senators, a woman this time. She was horsey and plain, her mousy hair drawn into a severe bun. “We have a reliable report that you attacked a civilian vessel without provocation. You savagely murdered over a hundred people. What proof do you have of your scurrilous charges against our friends in the Ministry for the Glory of God? Your word?” The last words were a sneer.
“Yes, mistress,” Kas replied, unruffled. “My word and that of the survivors of the civilian freighter the Glories were attacking. And the testimony of my crew, and the various sensor logs.”
Panic surged across the woman’s face, fading almost instantly as she regained control. A dark scowl had settled on Ta-Lank’s face. “Survivors?” She said, struggling to appear calm. “But the Gl… I mean, we were informed that no survivors were found when the wreckage was examined.”
Kas nodded. “That’s true, mistress. No survivors were found because we had taken them with us in order to preserve security. They are two Alliance citizens, crew of the free trader Lady Jane. Since we were unable to release them at Remor, they are at present aboard Vir Rekesh. I’m sure they would both be happy to testify.”
The woman glanced nervously at Ta-Lank, who was glowering at Kas. This was not going as scripted. Ta-Lank raised his hand and stroked his chin for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed and he raised his head.
“Yes, well,” He began, “We’ll see about that. We will obviously have to subpoena those logs and carefully examine your report to higher authority. I think we can defer further questioning until those documents and memory crystals have been carefully examined.
“There are more urgent matters to deal with anyway. You are aware that your vessels are under medical quarantine. The military may go off adventuring, but the senate takes very seriously its duty to protect the citizens of the Empire from the consequences of those hastily conceived and ill-advised adventures.
“Accordingly, the senate has assembled a board consisting of two dozen of the most skilled and prominent medical practitioners in the Empire. You will make available to this board all documents and logs relating to the plague. You will also insure the presence of all medical personnel now aboard your vessels for questioning.
“When, and only when, that board determines that there is absolutely no risk of the plague spreading to the Empire at large your ships and personnel will be released from quarantine. Until that time, your vessels have been declared plague ships. Be very careful, Commodore. You have a reputation for lacking respect for higher authority. Nevertheless, this time there will be no nonsense. Try to power up one engine, try to launch one boat, and both your vessels will be destroyed immediately.”
Ta-Lank sat back in his chair with a satisfied expression. “I think that’s all for today, Commodore. But we will be talking again.” The image of the five senators faded, and Kas let out pent-up breath in a massive whoosh.
Less than an hour later, the head of Ta-Lank’s medical board, a Dr. Nol Sho-Tra called. Sho-Tra was a portly, elderly red-faced man with an officious manner. He had called to arrange for the delivery of all records relating to the plague, and to arrange interviews with every member of the medical team aboard Rekesh.
Kas kept the man on the com while he summoned Dr. Ro-Lecton. This promised to be interesting.
Ro-Lecton appeared, and Sho-Tra repeated his demands in a peremptory tone. As he spoke, Ro-Lecton’s eyes widened, and the little man swelled perceptibly. “ You?” He demanded in an outraged tone. “You expect me to submit our work to you? For your approval? Ridiculous!” Ro-Lecton reached around Kas and snapped off the com. Sho-Tra’s image, puffing wordlessly, faded.
Ro-Lecton whirled on Kas. “Did you know about this, Commodore? What can that… that nonentity possibly imagine that he’s doing?” The old Ro-Lecton, the one who had been awakened aboard Starhopper, was back and in full blossom.
Kas explained about the “medical board” and showed him the recording of Ta-Lank’s final words.
The little man was furious. He called Sho-Tra back, just long enough to demand and receive a list of the members of the investigative board.
“They’re all second-raters and mediocrities,” he told Kas. “Political types. Most of them have not seen the inside of a lab for years. This epidemiologist, for example. I guess they thought they needed one, since they are supposed to be investigating a plague. Unfortunately, the best epidemiologists in the Empire are aboard this ship. So, they dug up Tancre. The man has not done any fieldwork in over thirty years. He’s director of Public Health on Satterlee, and a pompous, self-important…” He cast about for a sufficiently insulting word, gave up with a wave of his hand and a sigh of exasperation.
Kas was struggling to suppress a grin, but Ro-Lecton must have spotted the twinkle in his eye. The little man’s expression softened to one of rueful humor. “Oh, very well, Commodore. He’s much like I was when I was first awakened.” He chuckled. “I might as well warn you. The most effective counter to this nonsense is to be more pompous than they are. We’re dealing with politicians here, whether they call themselves Senator or Doctor. Fortunately,” he continued with a smile, “that is an area in which I have a certain expertise.”
Ro-Lecton paused, and frowned. “Commodore, I have enjoyed the last few months more than I can say, and I’ve come to like and admire your fleet people. It was also rather a pleasure to have someone else bear the burden of command.
“But now the military mission is finished. The problems we face now fall more within my area of expertise than yours. In this situation, what are normally military virtues become liabilities; the chain of command, subordination to civilian control, and so on. Could you perhaps call your Admiral and more or less throw up your hands in despair? Tell him that we are refusing to accept military authority any more, or something? Anything that minimizes your responsibility for whatever we may say or do.
“What I’m suggesting is that you step aside and let me handle the medical aspects of the situation. I don’t want you or your people held responsible for anything I may find it necessary to do or say. Do you understand?”
Kas nodded, and now his grin was one of genuine pleasure, tinged with anticipation. “Indeed I do understand, Doctor. And I thank you. Technically, the mission is complete, and therefore it could be argued that you are no longer under my command. And something tells me I’m going to have my hands full dealing with other aspects of the situation.” He threw up his hands. “I’d been wondering what to do about this board.”
Ro-Lecton’s answering smile was also genuine. “Yes, well, I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this. I’d already planned to resign and go back to field work with Nila, uh, Doctor Kor-Nashta, so what they think is their strongest threat is really no threat at all. This is going to be fun.”
Kas shook his head and sighed. “I hope so, Doctor. However, I’ve got over three hundred people on two ships facing the largest battle fleet ever assembled. And I somehow have to defeat months of hostile, Empire-wide propaganda.”
They talked for over an hour, making plans, and considering alternatives and consequences. Finally, Ro-Lecton stood and stretched. “Well, Commodore, I wish you luck. But now, I think I’ll let you get to work disassociating yourself from me.” He picked up the list of board members. “And I have some homework to do.”
Kas sat lost in thought, for a few minutes. Then he had a minimum laser link established with Fleet Admiral Pankin. He explained the plan, and Pankin began to smile.
As soon as he disconnected the laser link, he had the Comm Officer connect him via normal radio comms. Both Pankin and Ro-Lecton had agreed with him that Ta-Lank was virtually certain to be monitoring the radio comms.
“Admiral,” he began when Pankin’s image appeared. “I must report a problem that may impact my ability to carry out my orders. Since he considers the mission complete, Doctor Ro-Lecton refuses to accept my authority over him and his people.”
Pankin frowned. “You mean he’s resisting your commands?” The Grand Admiral’s tone was ominous.
“No, sir,” Kas replied hastily, “that is, not exactly. He grants me only the authority of the captain of a ship on which he is a passenger. He and his people will obey any order relating to ship operation or safety — but he specifically refuses to recognize my authority to order him to comply with this senatorial medical board. He says that neither they nor I have authority over him. I think he’s going to refuse to cooperate with the board.”
“I see.” Pankin’s frown had deepened. “Well, I can certainly see his point. Officially, the salvage mission ended when you filed your report.” He shrugged. “Well, Commodore, Certainly no circumstances exist under which you could use force to compel obedience. As far as I can see, this is an issue between the medical team and the senate investigating committee. I will inform Senator Ta-Lank. You can hardly be held responsible for the behavior of civilians not under your command.”
In less than an hour, Ta-Lank was demanding to speak to Ro-Lecton. “I’m sorry, Senator,” the little man said. “I do not work for you, but directly for the Director of Public Health, a member of the Emperor’s Cabinet of Advisors. I have made my report to my superiors. I suggest you contact them if you desire a copy, and not bother me with a bunch of incompetents and has-beens.”
Ta-Lank looked incredulous. “You refuse to comply with a senatorial subpoena? Are you mad?”
Ro-Lecton was unfazed. “You appear to think so, sir. If you will transmit your subpoena, I will forward it to my superiors for their consideration. I’m sure that in due course, after consulting the appropriate legal authorities, they will advise me whether the Senate has the power to subpoena an official of a cabinet-level agency.”
Ta-Lank looked furious. “You know you’ll have to comply and testify. There have been several cases…”
Ro-Lecton simply shrugged. “Perhaps, sir. Nevertheless, it is my understanding that you are not ordering me to testify before your committee. I am informed that you have assembled some sort of board, comprised of medical so-called ‘experts’ of dubious ability and background, and actually expect me to give them access to our work. The very idea is ludicrous. However, when I’ve written this case up for publication in the Journal, I will be happy to send them a copy.”
“That board is comprised of recognized experts, and has been specifically empanelled by the Imperial Senate!”
Ro-Lecton only shrugged. “Perhaps. However, I am told that among the decisions you mentioned, there are none that mention or involve extra-governmental bodies such as your ‘Board of Incompetents’.” He controlled his face with an effort. “I’m sure that the Supreme Court can be persuaded to rule on your subpoena in, oh, two or three years.”
Ta-Lank glowered, his eyes radiating hatred. After several more threats and tirades, he signed off, slamming the button with a vengeance.
Ro-Lecton turned to Kas with a wide, genuine grin. “There, Commodore. Now you can concentrate on your own battles, and leave the medical war to me.”
Kas was looking at the little man with admiration. “There will be repercussions…”
Ro-Lecton nodded, the grin still wide. “I know. Moreover, I’m prepared for them. I think this is going to be the most fun I have had in years. Call it a rather spectacular method of resigning my position.”
Kas did have his own battles to fight. Day after day, he was called to testify. His report was analyzed word by word. Night after night, he watched the heavily edited newsie coverage. Obviously, the newsies were not being given raw tapes of the sessions, but were being fed carefully slanted excerpts. The coverage was limited to short “sound bites” — words and phrases taken out of context and matched to questions either never asked, or asked in another context. They were obviously looking for something with which to charge him.
Unfortunately, they weren’t having much luck. The days began to drag into weeks. Lady Jane and Lar Tennig testified voluntarily, though as Alliance citizens, they were not subject to subpoena by the committee. By the time they finished, the senators flanking Ta-Lank were looking more and more unhappy.