A Just Determination

Chapter Twelve

Paul waited, listening to others leaving, before he stood and made his way out of the court room. He was vaguely aware of some of the senior officers still standing in the room, and as he turned into the central aisle found his path blocked by Commander Herdez, who was talking to Commander Sykes. "By your leave, ma'am."

Herdez turned her head, saw Paul, and stepped aside so he could pass, her expression still revealing nothing. "Certainly, Ensign Sinclair."

Paul went out the door, took two steps to the side to clear the entrance, then fell back against the bulkhead behind him. It's over. For me. One way or the other. I hope.

"Where have you been?" Jen was there, eyeing him with an enigmatic expression. "How long was I supposed to wait out here?"

"I didn't know you were waiting."

"You think I'm going to let you wander around alone in the state you're in? You're a wreck, Paul."

"Is it that obvious?"

"It is to me. You probably fooled everyone else."

"I just hope it accomplished something."

"I'd be willing to bet it did, but regardless, you did what you wanted to do." Jen leaned close enough to whisper to him. "You're good, Paul. And I'm not just talking about last night."

"Really? You think I did okay?"

"Last night or just now?"

"Jen! Just now."

"You're not supposed to discuss your testimony with anyone, Ensign Sinclair." But Jen smiled approvingly, then moved away a little before speaking in a normal voice. "You got any lunch plans? Or are you going to sit in the court room through lunch again?"

"I think I feel like eating today."

"Good. Some of us are heading for Fogarty's. You in?"

"Sure."

In addition to Paul and Jen, "some of us" turned out to be Bristol, Meadows, and Denaldo. Jen took a seat across from Paul, then waved dramatically toward him. "Our hero."

Meadows grinned. "So, Paul, how much fun was that?"

"My fun meter is pegged, Carl. Right off the scale."

"I know you can't talk about what you said, but how'd it feel up there on the witness stand?"

Paul smiled and shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend it unless you wanted to know how it feels to face a firing squad."

"Yeah. I bet. They could have at least offered you a blindfold. I'm glad no lawyer asked me what my department head thinks of my work. Or what I think about my department head, for that matter. What was that bit about Wakeman having a choice of pre- or post-Gadsden trial procedure? What's that mean?"

"It's the way the next phase of the trial is handled. Used to be military trials would finish with the defense and prosecution making their final arguments, and the defendant wouldn't make a statement of any kind until after the court-martial members announced a verdict."

"Huh? What's the point of the defendant not making a statement until after he's found guilty? What good does it do then?"

"It was just supposed to affect his punishment. You know, stuff like I'm an orphan and I didn't really do it and even if I did do it I didn't mean to do it. The punishment he'd be sentenced to wouldn't be determined until after the defendant made a statement."

"That still sounds lame," Carl observed.

"Yeah. That's what Gadsden was about, I guess, whether or not a defendant could make his statement before the verdict was reached. They ended up doing the Solomon thing and sort of splitting the difference. The defendant gets to decide. That way he or she can't complain if their statement goes over the wrong way."

"So Wakeman's going to swear he's innocent of all charges, huh? That ought to be interesting to watch."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I really don't know what he's planning on saying. Garrity may not either. And Wakeman doesn't have to make a sworn statement. He can also make an unsworn statement. That is, he'd be giving his side of things but not swearing that what he's saying is true."

Bristol looked puzzled. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Because if they make a sworn statement they can be cross-examined on it. You can't be questioned about anything you say in an unsworn statement. It's a Fifth Amendment thing. You know, the right against self-incrimination."

"Oh. You can't make someone testify against themselves. Right? And I can see where certain defendants wouldn't want to be asked questions about whatever they planned to say."

Paul grinned. "Exactly. Now you tell me something. How'd Suppo manage to get Mangala sent to Ceres Station?"

Bristol gazed back in apparent shock. "Commander Sykes? Are you implying he had something to do with Mangala's orders?"

"Perish the thought. How'd he do it?"

"Trade secret." Bristol grinned around his sandwich. "Don't mess with the supply officer."

"After that? No way. He might serve us cannonballs again."

"Won't bother me if he does," Jen declared. "I'll be on the USS Maury, living easy."

Carl shook his head. "Why do you think the Miserable Maury will be so easy? She's just another ship."

"That's what you think. She's a ship in long-term refit, and word is something critical on her breaks every time you look cross-eyed at her. I can't imagine how many times I'll get to wave goodbye to you guys while the Merry Mike sails off to cruise the sea of stars." Jen pretended to wipe away a tear. "I'm getting all emotional just thinking about it."

"Me, too," Kris agreed. "Don't forget you're still close enough for me to kick. And don't forget you'll probably be given a job trying to fix all that stuff that breaks at the drop of a hat."

"I'm stuck doing that now. At least if my ship is broken in port I can head out for a beer after work instead of standing a watch in the middle of the night in case the evil Virgins of Vega attack."

"Speaking of which, I hear there's a sequel to that movie coming out."

"Really? Is it going to be as bad as the first one?"

Kris grinned. "I hope so. I'd thought the first batch of Vegan Virgins used up all the silicone on their planet for their boob jobs, but apparently they found a fresh supply to, um, equip another invasion force."

"Maybe that's why they're trying to invade Earth again," Bristol suggested. "Mars needs women, Vega needs silicone."

Paul chuckled. "Maybe Mars should be invading Vega."

"Or Vega should be invading Franklin Station," Carl sighed. "We could use a few of those Virgins around here." He paused as Kris and Jen glared at him. "Sorry. I could use a few of them, I mean. Not to imply there's any shortage of virgins here. Or of exceptional women of any kind."

"Better quit before you dig it any deeper, Carl," Bristol laughed. "Save me a couple of those Vegan Virgins, though. You want a few, too, Paul?"

Paul kept himself from looking toward Jen but felt his face warming. "Uh, no. None for me, thanks."

Carl faked astonishment. "You're turning down Vegan Virgins?"

Kris sniffed disdainfully. "Paul simply has too much class to be interested in sluts like that."

"How can a virgin be a slut?"

"It's possible. Believe me. Maybe Paul's also allergic to silicone. What do you think, Jen?"

"Am I supposed to care what other people think about Paul Sinclair?"

"Well, he is your friend."

"Oh. In that case, Paul's obviously high-class and also possesses excellent taste in friends." Jen smiled at Paul while the others laughed.

Paul laughed as well, though partly in relief that an awkward moment had passed. Yesterday at this time I was dreading the day Jen left the Michaelson. Today I'm looking forward to it because it'll mean we won't have to pretend to be uninvolved. Talk about things changing fast.

By the time they finished eating Paul felt mostly recovered. The small group ambled back to the courtroom, finding the rest of the officers from the Michaelson were already there. Most of the department heads formed their usual cluster, with Lieutenant Junior Grade Yarrow hanging around the fringe like an adoring puppy. Off to one side, Commander Sykes and Commander Herdez stood talking to each other. Paul watched the last two for a moment. "That's kind of a funny pair, isn't it? I can see why Sykes doesn't want to hang with the other department heads. But why with Herdez?"

Bristol looked surprised at the question. "You really don't understand? Sykes and Herdez have a lot in common."

"You're kidding. Suppo's a major slacker, and Herdez is tighter than the atoms in a black hole."

"So? You're missing the fact that they both get the job done, and done right, and don't worry about blowing their own horns. Professionally, they're two of a kind."

"I'd never thought of that." Paul glanced at Sykes and Herdez again. It's true. I'd happily entrust myself to the leadership of either of those two. Their leadership styles couldn't be farther apart, but like Bristol says, they get the job done. "I guess you're right. They still seem like an odd couple, though."

"There's been odder couples," Kris Denaldo observed. Jen shot her a look under lowered brows, but Paul thought no one else noticed the by-play.

"It only looks odd," Bristol insisted. "It may seem weird, but those two are soul-mates in a way. Not that I ever expect them to end up in bed together."

Kris opened her mouth again, but whatever she'd been planning to say was interrupted by Jen's elbow jabbing into her side. "Ow."

"Are you okay, Kris?"

"Yes. Just a sudden pain in my side."

"Maybe it's something you ate," Jen suggested.

"I don't think so. It looks like everyone's heading in. Time for the big finale."

No longer in stand-by as a witness, Paul didn't have to sit in the front row anymore, so he stuck with the other junior officers as they entered the courtroom. Jen, towing Kris Denaldo with her, made a point of moving several seats over from where Paul, Carl and Mike Bristol sat down. The department heads scattered through the room, as if fearing being hit by the same bolt of rhetoric Wakeman might aim at another of their number. Lieutenant Sindh, a few seats down from Paul, stared grimly ahead. But Commander Herdez walked steadily to the front row, taking a seat near the center.

"The court-martial will come to order." Judge Holmes looked toward the defense table. "Commander Garrity, does Captain Wakeman still desire to make a statement prior to the final arguments?"

"He does, Your Honor."

"Very well. Captain Wakeman, you have the right to make a statement. Included in your right to present evidence are the rights you have to testify under oath, to make an unsworn statement, or to remain silent. If you testify, you may be cross-examined by the trial counsel or questioned by me and the members. If you decide to make an unsworn statement you may not be cross-examined by trial counsel or questioned by me or the members. You may make an unsworn statement orally or in writing, personally, or through your counsel, or you may use a combination of these ways. If you decide to exercise your right to remain silent, that cannot be held against you in any way. Do you understand your rights?"

Wakeman stood. Paul suddenly realized that Wakeman hadn't spoken out loud for the last few days, his only communications being whispered discussions at the defense table. Now, Wakeman's voice sounded almost rusty as he replied. "Yes."

"Which of these rights do you want to exercise?"

"To make an unsworn statement, orally, in person."

"Very well. You may take the witness stand and proceed." Despite the controlled temperature in the courtroom, Wakeman seemed to be perspiring as he mounted the steps to the witness stand. He paused for a moment after seating himself, as if he'd forgotten he wouldn't be sworn in before making his statement, then swallowed, cleared his throat and glanced down at his data link before speaking.

"The captain of a ship has many responsibilities. Many duties. I have done my best, my very best, to carry out all those duties. I have done my very best to execute the orders I have been given. Because I took my responsibilities so seriously, because I was so concerned with following the orders I had been given, I now find myself facing a court-martial."

Carl tapped Paul's elbow to attract his attention, then rolled his eyes dramatically. Paul smiled to indicate he understood Carl's message. Poor Cap'n Pete. I may not like the things he was charged with, but this devoted-to-duty martyr routine is too ridiculous. To us, anyway. I wonder what the court-martial members think about it after all they've heard about him so far?

Neither the admiral nor any of the captains gave any clue as to their thoughts as Wakeman continued. "At every point in the pursuit and encounter with the SASAL ship I made what I thought were the best decisions based on the information and advice I was given. That is surely what is expected of a ship's commanding officer. Indeed, if I hadn't made those decisions, I might well be facing charges for shirking my duty."

"But what I could not anticipate, what I could not overcome, was the failure of my own subordinates to adequately or properly support me. They gave me bad information, they gave me false information, they gave me recommendations which led to tragedy. I don't know what motivations were involved. I don't know why they failed to support me as well as I had supported them so often in the past."

Paul tried to keep his face as emotionless as he'd seen Herdez manage. I can't believe Wakeman has the gall to be saying this. It's enough to make me wish I'd let him hang.

Beads of sweat were visible on Wakeman's forehead. "I am guilty of nothing but attempting to carry out my orders. Nor am I fully convinced that all the facts have been brought out here, that the real mission and intentions of the SASAL ship have been accurately determined. Its actions clearly demonstrated a threat to my ship. Was I to allow my ship to be destroyed through failure to act? If so, I would surely deserve this court-martial. But I did not. I acted."

Paul stole a glance at Lieutenant Commander Garrity, sitting at the defense table with her elbows on the arms of her chair, her mouth resting against her hands where they were clasped together so that her expression could not be read. Surely Garrity didn't advise Wakeman to make this kind of statement. Surely she's not happy that Wakeman's still trying to blame everyone else for Wakeman's own bad decisions, still trying to claim the SASALs were doing anything but playing a stupid and dangerous game. But she's a JAG. How is this "my subordinates let me down" stuff, and this "my ship was in peril" stuff, playing with the line officers among the court-martial members, all of whom have commanded ships themselves?

Wakeman wiped one hand across his forehead. "I ask you to support me as the commanding officer of a ship, support me in a way my own subordinates did not. In a crisis, they failed me. I ask you not to fail a fellow officer. Do not condemn me because I cared too much, tried too hard, as commanding officer. My record prior to this… this tragedy speaks for itself. I cared about my ship and her crew! If I am convicted, some future captain will stay his hand when he should act in self-defense for fear of a similar fate. I'm sure such distinguished officers would never permit such a precedent to be set. Thank you."

Admiral Fowler raised a hand, stopping Captain Wakeman in mid-rise to leave the witness stand. "Captain Wakeman, I know you're not required to answer any questions about your statement, but I'd like to ask one anyway."

Lieutenant Commander Garrity was on her feet. "Admiral-"

Garrity was herself interrupted by Judge Holmes. "Admiral Fowler, we are legally prohibited from questioning Captain Wakeman regarding his statement."

"Even if he agrees to answer voluntarily?"

"Captain Wakeman is on trial. Nothing the court asks of him can be viewed as entirely voluntary."

Fowler nodded brusquely. "All right."

"Thank you, Admiral. Commander Wilkes, is trial counsel prepared for closing argument?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Please proceed."

Wilkes faced the members. "Captain Wakeman has been charged with many violations of military law, but all of those charges come down to one common element: the culpably negligent and derelict behavior of Captain Peter Wakeman in carrying out his duties as the commanding officer of the USS Michaelson. Nothing the defense has presented has refuted the basic facts of the case, that Captain Wakeman failed to maintain his assigned patrol duties, recklessly closed on another ship, and fired a shot at that ship without sufficient justification, after which Captain Wakeman failed to maneuver to avoid the possibility of collision, instead choosing to fire directly upon and destroy the other ship. It wasn't simply careless, it wasn't simply a misinterpretation of his orders. It represented culpable negligence. It represented dereliction of duty in failing to conform to orders and instructions with which Captain Wakeman was required to be familiar. I ask you to find Captain Wakeman guilty on all charges and counts, for he has failed in the most basic elements of his responsibilities as a commanding officer of a US Naval warship, with tragic results."

Wilkes returned to his seat and Lieutenant Commander Garrity rose, also facing the members. "Captain Peter Wakeman was placed in an impossible position by orders which provided little guidance and broad responsibilities. Captain Wakeman's orders specifically called upon him to use his own judgment to determine which actions were necessary and appropriate to carry out a mission which had to be fulfilled. The decisions he made in attempting to carry out the mission were arguably misguided and even improper, but they were not criminally negligent or culpable. When suddenly embroiled in a crisis situation, a situation no one had anticipated, he was repeatedly warned of firing solutions and detections of possible weapon preparations. It doesn't matter that in hindsight we know the other ship was unarmed, what matters is that Captain Wakeman had to make a decision at that moment based on what he knew and what he was being told. I ask you to find Captain Wakeman innocent of all charges and specifications on the grounds that his actions were legitimate, even if flawed, attempts to carry out the letter and spirit of the orders he was operating under."

Garrity sat down again. Judge Holmes looked from the trial counsel to the defense counsel, then to the members. "Admiral Fowler, do you anticipate being able to render judgment tomorrow?"

"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?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Herdez seemed to be looking through the far wall of the bar, out through the intervening bulkheads and out into empty space. "Duty is a very stern mistress, Mr. Sinclair. It left me no alternative. Ultimately, the decision on how to interpret and act upon our orders rested with Captain Wakeman. As your testimony made clear, Captain Wakeman was put in a very difficult position by the wording of his orders and his mission assignment."

"Lieutenant Commander Garrity said the same thing, ma'am, but I thought the members of the court-martial didn't seem all that impressed by the fact that I thought the orders were hard to understand."

"They were impressed, Mr. Sinclair. They wanted to be sure you could reason well, but I have worked with officers such as Admiral Fowler and Captain Nguyen in the past. I know they believe it is our responsibility to draft our orders in such a fashion that they can even be understood by an ensign. I hope you don't take that statement adversely."

Paul couldn't help smiling. "No, ma'am."

"Good. You, personally, revealed during your testimony and the cross-examination that you can understand and interpret orders. But if the orders received by you or any other officer favor confusion and convoluted sentences over clarity and conciseness, it is little wonder if those officers are left uncertain as to the proper course of action either before or during a crisis. It is also little wonder if such an officer takes steps of which we disapprove after we have provided so little clear guidance as to proper courses of action, even if the officer is already a paragon of good judgment."

Paul nodded, not saying what both Herdez and he knew, that Wakeman had been far from a paragon of good judgment.

Herdez looked back at her drink. "The orders issued to Captain Wakeman in this case only exacerbated the challenge to his personal judgment. He did not rise to the necessary levels of performance, but that is not a criminal offense. The members of the court, by their recommendation that Captain Wakeman's qualifications for command be reviewed with an eye to revocation, obviously believed that failure does indicate Captain Wakeman is unsuitable for further command level assignments."

"Ma'am, even with those orders, wasn't there something else we could have done? Before something like destroying that SASAL ship happened?"

Herdez glanced at him. "What you're really asking is if I could have done something else. Correct? Because I was the officer in the best position to do so. But, as I said before, duty left me no alternative but to support Captain Wakeman's decisions."

"You could talk to the captain in private, couldn't you?"

"Mr. Sinclair, you heard my testimony. You know I did that. But that's as far as it can go. Publicly, I must back the captain's decisions. All of them. And the captain must trust me to do so. Do you understand why?"

Paul stared down at the surface of the bar. "Not entirely."

"You will. Someday. For now, let me ask you. Suppose I overruled one thing the captain ordered. Just one thing. What would happen forever after when the captain issued an order?"

"We'd all look to see if you were going to overrule it. Is that why you needed to back Captain Wakeman, ma'am? Because otherwise he wouldn't really be captain?"

She took another drink. "A good leader doesn't need unquestioning obedience. People follow that leader because they choose to, because that leader has their trust. A poor leader requires unquestioning obedience, because without that a poor leader will lose all meaningful ability to exercise command. Would I have been fulfilling my duty to the Navy if I had caused Captain Wakeman to lose his ability to command the ship?"

"I guess not. Then you're saying the worse a commander is, the better his or her subordinates have to be?"

"In a nutshell, yes. Captain Wakeman's weakness as a commanding officer required corresponding strength from his subordinates. You do understand why?"

The question could have stung, but Herdez' tone was that of a teacher, not a superior annoyed by the lack of understanding displayed by a junior. Paul nodded. "Yes. It makes sense. I mean, I can imagine if every officer on a ship was messed up, that ship would be a disaster."

"Exactly."

"But, Commander, what happens when something like that ship encounter occurs? If we're backing the captain for all we're worth, and he's ordering something stupid anyway, what can we do?"

"What we did, Mr. Sinclair. Follow the orders, then accept the consequences and work toward a just determination of fault."

"There's no other alternative?"

"I don't know of one." Another uncharacteristic smile from Herdez. "Perhaps you'll find one, someday. One that works for you. It's not impossible. I've just never found one."

"Ma'am, if you've never found an alternative, I don't see how I could." Perhaps because of the rum, Paul let the words slip out, then flinched inside. Buttering up the XO to her face? Who am I, Sam Yarrow? Yeah, I really meant it, but what a stupid thing to do.

Instead of upbraiding him for the implied flattery, Herdez shook her head. "Don't underestimate yourself, Mr. Sinclair. You have a great deal of potential. Yes, you require a lot of learning, a lot of guidance. To be truly effective, such guidance shouldn't simply direct you to whatever goal a superior thinks is best. It has to let someone such as yourself realize on their own what they should do, and then give them free rein to do it. As you did. And when a subordinate does that, it gives great satisfaction to those who are endeavoring to lead them."

Paul took a long, slow drink to give himself time to think. She wanted me to testify like I did. Why didn't she just tell me to do it, or tell me she wanted me to do it? But then I wouldn't have learned anything about myself, would I? And Jen sure as hell wouldn't have been impressed if all I was doing was following the XO's orders. So, thank God Herdez did it her way. But how did she guide me? Sykes. That talk Commander Sykes had with me. Herdez and Sykes are soul-mates, Mike Bristol said. Did she ask Sykes to give me that talk? Or did Sykes just understand she wanted him to do that, because they're on the same wavelength for things they think that matter? Sykes didn't shoot down Wakeman on the witness stand, either, come to think of it. "Commander Sykes did a good job of that," Paul finally offered, curious to see how Herdez would react.

"Did he?" If Herdez had known of Sykes' talk before this, she didn't betray the fact in any way. "It's a shame Commander Sykes is a limited duty officer. Despite his somewhat relaxed attitude toward some matters, he would have made an excellent line officer. You'd do well to continue listening to him."

I wonder if that's why Sykes eats meals with the junior officers? Any of the department heads could have been assigned that duty, but it's Sykes. I never realized how subtle the XO can be. "I will, ma'am."

"Good. Now, as to another matter." Herdez bent a hard look toward Paul. "I see that you and Ensign Shen are getting along very well together. Extremely well."

"Uh…" Oh, God. She knows. The XO knows. Paul wondered if the blood was actually draining from his face or if it just felt that way. How'd she find out? What's she going to do to us?

Herdez was looking at her drink now, as if unaware of Paul's pallor. "I believe I can trust both you and Ensign Shen to act with all due discretion and restraint as long as you are both assigned to the Michaelson."

"Yes, ma'am. Absolutely, ma'am."

"Make no mistake, if I had any doubts about either your or Ensign Shen's ability to act appropriately you'd be getting a different type of guidance, Mr. Sinclair, despite the very short time remaining in which both of you will be assigned to the same command. After Ensign Shen transfers to the Maury, you may make the relationship public, of COURSE. But even then it is best not to flaunt it."

"We will act appropriately, ma'am. And I don't believe Ensign Shen has any intention of ever flaunting it, ma'am."

"I wouldn't have expected anything less from Ensign Shen. Or from you." Herdez looked at Paul again, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Good luck to you two."

"Th-thank you, ma'am."

"I only have another six months left on the Michaelson, Mr. Sinclair. After that, I don't know what my follow-on assignment may be. But I will be keeping an eye on you. You've shown an uncommon measure of character."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I'm sure you need to get back to the ship. Thank you for your time."

Paul had no trouble recognizing the polite but unmistakable dismissal. "Certainly, ma'am. Thank you." He left, blinking a little in the brighter light outside the bar.

Jen was still on watch, manning the quarterdeck, the bright brass of the ceremonial long glass gleaming from where it was tucked beneath one arm, her uniform a vivid splash of color against the grays of the surfaces around her. Both her enlisted watch standers appeared to be off running errands, leaving her temporarily alone on the quarterdeck. Paul rendered his salute to the national flag aft, then to Jen. "Request permission to come aboard."

She flipped a quick salute of her own in response. "Permission granted. Everybody else got back a while ago, so I already know what happened to Wakeman. Congratulations, I guess. Where have you been?"

"Having a drink with the XO." Paul barely stifled a laugh at Jen's reaction. "I'm serious. She invited me to a bar and we had a drink and a talk."

She leaned in to smell his breath. "You've had a drink, alright. What did Herdez want to talk about?"

"Leadership stuff. Why she backed Wakeman the way she did, what you have to do sometimes to carry out your duties, how to guide juniors to carry out their duty. Stuff like that."

"Wow. She gave you a one-on-one leadership talk? You got yourself a mentor, Paul. Herdez could be one hell of a sugar-daddy. Assuming you survive having her as a mentor."

"Maybe. I think she was happy with the way I testified."

"How can you tell with Herdez? The woman's as emotive as a rock. Did you talk about anything else?"

"Uh… one other thing. Herdez also knows about, uh…"

"About what?"

"You. And me."

" You told her?!"

"No! She knew! I have no idea how."

Jen sighed and shook her head. "Okay. So we're dead meat. Are we ordered to stay a minimum of two meters away from each other until hell freezes over? Or are we just confined to quarters until I transfer off the ship?"

Paul grinned. "Neither. She told us to be discreet, with no inappropriate behavior while you're still assigned to the Michaelson, and wished us luck."

"Wait a minute. This was Commander Herdez? Was she drunk?"

"Uh-uh. I don't know, Jen, but for a moment there she seemed almost maternal."

" Maternal? Herdez? Are you listening to yourself?"

"Yes. I can't explain it. I think she likes you, Jen."

"Heaven help me. He thinks one of the primary banes of my existence likes me, and he thinks our XO is acting maternal, of all things. Are you going to tell anyone else about this little chat you had with Herdez?"

"I'm sure not planning on it."

"Good. I'd like my last days on the Merry Mike to be free of accusations of hitching my cart to a lunatic. After all we've been through, I don't need a personal crisis now to top it off." Jen favored Paul with a half-stern, half-pleading look. "Do me a favor, Paul. Try not to get into another mess like this Wakeman thing again."

"I'll try. It's not like I asked to be in the last one."

"No, but people who are willing to tilt at windmills tend to find themselves doing it again and again." She smiled. "But what am I complaining about? I knew what I was getting into."

"So did I." Paul smiled back at her. "After a few months of pure hell, I'm looking forward to whatever the future brings again."

"Hell ain't over yet. In a few weeks you could be ordered out for another long patrol and I'll be left on the pier doing the teary-eyed girlfriend waving goodbye bit."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"No. Not the tears, anyway. But you're still part of the crew of a warship. I'm going to be on the Maury, so when you're underway I can't help bail you out of whatever your latest screw-up happens to be. At least you'll still have people like Carl and Kris to depend on, but they'll also be depending on you. Because, Mr. Paul Sinclair, your actions have branded you a leader of men and women, a leader who will be looked to for inspiration and guidance by the poor, benighted junior officers of the world."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"You don't believe me? Just wait. They'll look to Paul, because Paul has shown he has the guts to make tough decisions and stick to them. Things'll get tough and they'll turn to you and say, 'Paul, what should we do?' Don't blame me when that happens. You brought that little extra responsibility on yourself."

Paul shook his head. "I have a lot of trouble believing that. I'm still the most junior ensign on the ship. They're going to look to me for leadership? I don't think so. All they'll be asking me is how I convinced Jen Shen to be my girlfriend."

"Since the world hasn't exactly been beating down my door for that privilege, people may not be nearly as impressed by that status as you think. But if you want to believe anyone'll be envious, more power to you. Just remember what I said, Paul. They're going to expect you to keep showing leadership. That's going to make things harder. What else do you have to worry about? Herdez. She's still the XO, and assuming she likes you, that means she'll be riding you harder than ever. Then there's the new captain. Nobody knows what she's like. She's meeting with all the officers at fourteen hundred, by the way, so you probably get some clues then. Maybe she's another Wakeman or just a Captain Bligh. Maybe you'll get lucky and have a real leader for a captain, but you can't count on it."

"So it won't be any worse than it's already been. Okay, maybe it'll be a little worse. I'll survive, and I'll learn. I know that now. And I'll come back to that not-teary-eyed girlfriend."

"You'd better, Mister. Because I'll be waiting. Unless my ship's underway, too. Are you still sure you want to date another sailor?"

"As long as you're that sailor, Jen." Paul drew himself up to attention, rendering a precise salute. "Request permission to proceed on duties assigned, Ensign Shen."

She shook her head at the professionally-rendered but facetious request, then grinned. "As if you need permission from me, or anyone else, to go where your duty leads you. But thanks for asking anyway." Jen returned the salute. "Permission granted, Ensign Sinclair."