Against All Enemies

Chapter Twelve

About an hour later, after he'd already returned to his ship, Paul's data pad buzzed urgently. "Paul, this is Alex Carr. I'd like you to see Pullman in the brig. As soon as possible."

"What? The defense isn't going to want me to see Pullman."

"Actually, they do." Carr's tone gave no clue as to what was going on.

"Why?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Will Pullman's lawyers tell me if I ask them?"

"I don't know. But I assure you, they want you to talk to their client."

"This afternoon? Tonight?"

"Preferably this afternoon. As soon as it's convenient for you."

Paul waited, but Commander Carr gave no hint of other information. "Yes, ma'am. Is there anything I'm supposed to do or say?"

"Just say what you feel is right."

"I'm not sure what that is, ma'am."

"You will." Carr paused before speaking again. "Trust me."

"Aye, aye, ma'am." Paul rubbed his forehead and leaned forward a little so he could rest his elbows on his desk. His desk. For another couple of days. Most of his stuff had already been moved off of the ship and out of the stateroom which had been his cramped and crowded home for the last three years. Lieutenant Shwartz had officially relieved Paul as Combat Information Center officer and had taken over all of the ship's legal officer's duties except for the observation of Pullman's court-martial. Captain Agee, now his commanding officer, had listened carefully to Paul's report when he got back to the ship and reconfirmed Paul's orders to be there when the verdict was announced. Now, no longer responsible for his former duties and with the court-martial closed until tomorrow morning, Paul had no other tasks demanding completion.

Since I don't seem to have anything else to do, I guess I ought to follow Commander Carr's instructions. Paul stood up, grinning for a moment. I don't have anything else to do. How long has it been since I could say that? At least since I reported to this ship!

The brig watch recognized him again, not bothering to hide their surprise. They checked the access list twice and then phoned Pullman's lawyers for clearance before allowing Paul to sign in. Paul was escorted into the visiting room, bare but for the two chairs facing each other in the center of the room, and left there to await Pullman's arrival.

Paul sat, trying to hide his discomfort and uncertainty. What should he say to a man whom he was certain would be convicted tomorrow? Should he just flat out ask Pullman why he didn't seem more worried?

Pullman entered the room, saw Paul, grinned and started to walk toward him.

Paul stared at that confident smile. He remembered how Jen had reacted when she'd been in the brig, accused of crimes she hadn't committed. Jen, a tower of personal strength who'd nonetheless wavered under her imprisonment, showing her anguish at being charged with committing horrible crimes, her confusion at being singled out by authorities for something she hadn't done. Yet here was Brad Pullman, still radiating confidence despite the crimes he'd been charged with and in the face of all the evidence that had been marshaled against him. Without any halfway plausible alternative or any missing element that could really explain that evidence in any other way.

It flashed into Paul's mind then. That's what was different between this case and the one brought against Jen. He'd known something was missing from that evidence against Jen. Other people he'd talked to had known it, too. The engineering system in Jen's case supposedly hadn't had significant problems while being developed, where experience argued that all systems had such problems. Lots of people wondered about that, not just Paul. It had taken a while to find what he needed, but he and others had known what ought to be there and wasn't.

But he couldn't think of anything missing from Pullman's case. Anything that ought to be there and wasn't. Anything that would explain Pullman's attitude, why he'd still be confident. Except the words Ensign Taylor had spoken when Pullman was arrested. He figured he was too smart to play by the rules… Pullman figured he was too smart to get caught.

And too smart to be convicted.

The last shreds of doubt vanished from Paul's mind and he knew with absolute certainty. "You did it."

Pullman's smile finally wavered and he paused in mid-step. "What?"

"You son of a bitch. You bastard. You did everything they said you did."

"Paul, what the-"

"Didn't you care? You were out there with us, watching those people die on that damned asteroid, people dying because you'd sold our secrets to someone. Didn't it hurt even a little bit to watch them dying?"

Pullman had paled, his smile completely gone now. "I didn't — "

"But you still don't care. You just did it because you believed you were smarter than us. We trusted you. Out there on the ship we personally trusted you with our lives. And you, you lying bastard, you sold our lives. You didn't even do it because you believed you were right. You didn't even really do it for money. You sold us and your word of honor because you think it's some kind of game, don't you? A game with rules you don't have to play by. A game you're still not worried about losing because you think you're too smart." Paul turned away. "Guess what? Game's over, and you lost. Go to hell and stay there." He walked out, not looking back.

Everyone waited in the courtroom as 1000 came and went. Paul kept looking around, wondering where Commander Carr, David and Lieutenant Owings were. Had some last-minute evidence shown up, some proof that knocked the entire case against Pullman on its head? Paul couldn't believe such a thing could be possible. But where were the lawyers?

Pullman himself was sitting at the defense table, staring at the surface of the table without ever raising his head, finally looking like his world had caved in.

Fifteen minutes after the scheduled start of the court-martial, the door to the judge's chambers opened and the lawyers came out. Commander Carr walked briskly to the trial counsel table, apparently oblivious to the stares and murmurs of conversation her appearance had generated. David and Lieutenant Owings walked a bit more slowly to the defense table and sat down, David whispering something to Lieutenant Pullman that drew a single nod in response.

"All rise." Judge Campbell entered, looking annoyed. The members came in as well, taking their seats. "You may be seated," the judge advised everyone else. "Captain Nguyen, I regret to state that you and the other members in this court-martial may not be rendering the verdicts I know you have worked hard to reach. At the proverbial last minute the defendant has reached a plea agreement with the government." A burst of talking erupted, earning a loud rap from Judge Campbell's gavel. "Silence in the courtroom. Lieutenant Pullman, please approach the bench." Brad Pullman stood up and marched to stand in front of the judge's bench. "Bailiff, provide the defendant with a copy of the Appellate Exhibit." The bailiff walked over to Pullman and handed him a data pad.

Judge Campbell held up a data pad of her own. "Lieutenant Pullman, I have here the Appellate Exhibit which is part of a plea agreement between you and Commander, United States Space Forces, the convening authority. Is that your signature on the document and did you read this part of the agreement?"

Lieutenant Pullman looked down at his data pad for a moment. "Yes, Your Honor," Pullman replied in a flat voice.

"Did you also read and sign the second Appellate Exhibit shown there, which is also part of this agreement?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Do you believe that you fully understand the agreement?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"I don't know, and I don't want to know at this time, the sentence limitation you have agreed to. However, I want you to read that part of the agreement over to yourself once again." Judge Campbell waited while Pullman read. "Without saying what it is, do you understand the maximum punishment the convening authority may approve?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"In this plea agreement, you agree to enter a plea of guilty to the charges and specifications, and to cooperate fully and to the best of your ability with government representatives who will question you regarding the scope, nature and all other aspects of your espionage activities. In return, the convening authority agrees to approve no sentence greater than that in the second Appellate Exhibit, which you have just read. In addition, you have agreed that if you fail to abide by your promise to provide full and complete cooperation to government representatives questioning you regarding your espionage activities, it will absolve the government of any obligation to limit your sentence. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Is this agreement contained in these two Appellate Exhibits the entire agreement between you and the convening authority? In other words, is it correct that there are no other agreements or promises in this case?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

Judge Campbell looked from Commander Carr to David Sinclair. "Do counsel agree?"

"Yes, Your Honor," they both replied.

"Lieutenant Pullman, do you understand your plea agreement?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

Campbell looked at David Sinclair. "Did the offer to make a plea agreement originate with the defense?"

"Yes, Your Honor," David replied.

The judge focused back on Pullman. "Lieutenant Pullman, are you entering this agreement freely and voluntarily?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Has anyone tried to force you to enter into this agreement?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Have you fully discussed this agreement with your counsel, and are you satisfied that his advice is in your best interest?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Do you have any questions about your plea of guilty, your plea agreement, or anything we have discussed?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Do you still want to plead guilty at this time?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"I find that the accused has knowingly, intelligently, and consciously waived his rights against self-incrimination; that the accused is, in fact, guilty; and his plea of guilty is accepted. Lieutenant Bradley Pullman, in accordance with your pleas of guilty, this court-martial finds you of all charges and specifications: Guilty."

"This court sentences you to forfeiture of all pay and allowances, dismissal from the service, and to confinement for life."

"This court-martial is closed."

Pullman was led out of the courtroom for the last time. Paul stared at the deck, wondering why he didn't feel any sense of triumph. Waste. That's how Taylor described what was going to happen to Commander Moraine. Maybe that's how I feel about Pullman. What a waste.

"Hey, Paul." Colleen Kilgary had left the other members, who were talking among themselves, to come over to where Paul stood. "Did you have to waste my time like that?"

"It's not my fault."

"I know. Why'd he wait so long to do the inevitable?"

"I have no idea. Did I read you guys right? Was Pullman toast?"

Kilgary nodded. "Burnt toast. We only had to talk about it for a few minutes. We would've found him guilty of everything." She reached out and slapped his shoulder. "See you at the wedding."

"Thanks." Commander Carr and David Sinclair were speaking again, Paul saw. They shook hands, then Carr came back toward Paul. "That was a surprise," he remarked to her.

"It's what we wanted." She looked around the room. "Come on. There's a few things I want to discuss with you in private."

Paul followed as Carr walked quickly to her office, then invited him in and sat down. She was hardly seated before she yawned. "Sorry. Late night."

"Working on a plea agreement, I take it?"

"Yeah." She stretched and yawned again, then noticed a message light blinking. Calling up the message, she shook her head. "My, my. Guess who's disappeared."

"I can't imagine."

"Pullman's father." She smiled wryly. "Some agents showed up to question him but he was gone. Oh, yeah, didn't I tell you? It looks like Pullman's father was the ring master for a little spy circus."

Paul couldn't think of any appropriate comments. "Nice family," he finally said.

"Yeah. The sort of family that puts the 'dys' into 'functional.'"

"I wondered where Pullman's father got the money to hire a private lawyer and send him up here."

Carr leaned back. "You weren't the only one. Counterintelligence agents have been nosing around him for a while now. Our best guess is that Pullman's daddy spent some of his ill-gotten gains in an attempt to keep anyone from learning for sure that Pullman had family ties to the espionage business. With any luck, former-Lieutenant Pullman will sing loudly and clearly enough that we'll be able to roll up any other members of the spy ring. We owe you for helping bring that about. I called you here to thank you for that."

"Huh?' Paul shifted uncomfortably. "What do you mean? I didn't have anything to do with that plea agreement."

"Oh, yes, you did." Reading Paul's reaction, Carr leaned forward again, speaking earnestly. "I knew the members of the court were ready to unanimously vote to convict. Pullman's lawyers could tell the same thing. Your brother wanted to get the best deal he could for his client. That's his job. But Pullman wouldn't consider copping a plea, even when conviction was a certainty and the possibility of him facing a death penalty was raised. He kept pretending he'd somehow get acquitted. That's why I asked you to go talk to him and that's why Pullman's lawyers agreed to let you see him."

Paul tried not to let show how horrified he felt. "You all used me? To pressure Pullman into agreeing to a guilty plea?"

"Yes! Pullman was still in deep denial, thinking he'd fooled enough people to get out of the trial without being convicted. I knew we'd convinced you of his guilt, and if you made it clear to Pullman you weren't fooled anymore it'd make Pullman crack. Because he'd realize he'd lost someone he was sure would always buy his story. That'd mean he couldn't keep on believing he could fool everyone else."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you're a lousy actor, Paul Sinclair! And very good at speaking well when it's spontaneous and sincere. I wanted you to speak your mind to Pullman, let him know he'd lost even you, and apparently you did. I'm grateful, and Pullman's lawyers are grateful. Pullman ought to be grateful. What's the matter?"

Paul made a frustrated gesture. "I didn't know. I could have at least been told I was being used against Pullman-"

"Whoa." Carr held up both hands and spoke slowly. "You do know what this plea agreement is, don't you? It's the closest thing to a win/win this case could have. Speaking purely personally, I'd have liked to see Pullman dangling by the neck from the highest tree in North America for what he did. But we needed to know a lot of things only Pullman knows. How much information did he sell? Exactly what information? Who else was involved? What methods did he use? How many buyers were there, who were they and how did they operate? To get that, we need Pullman to talk to us."

"Now, his lawyers could tell Pullman was headed for a life without parole sentence at best. They wanted to get him something better if they could. That's why they came to me after the court-martial was closed for the members' deliberations. Pullman's lawyers got him the best deal possible. Pullman goes to jail for a long time, but if Pullman spills his guts to our debriefers then he'll be eligible for parole in thirty or forty years. That's what the convening authority agreed to, and as you know convening authorities can't make a sentence more severe but they can lessen a sentence. I still got a conviction, though, and our intelligence people get the information they need on what was compromised and how to prevent us losing more classified material. Everybody wins. Granted, Pullman's part of the win still means he'll spend a long time in prison, but he won't have to die of old age there if he cooperates as he promised."

"And all I had to do to help make this happen," Paul added, "was follow the same sort of methods that Pullman used."

Carr looked surprised. "You don't mean that, do you? Pullman chose to spy on all of his fellow officers and his country. He did it for ego and for money. You were reluctantly convinced to spy on two other officers because you'd seen convincing evidence one of them was engaged in serious wrong-doing. You did it because of your sense of duty. There's no comparison. You did good and you did right."

"Then why don't I feel like a hero?"

"Do you think anyone else does?" Carr leaned back again, sighing. "This isn't fun work and it isn't pleasant. It has to be done, so somebody has to do it. But at the end of the day it can leave you feeling like hell. You did a good thing, an important thing. Odds are, only a few people will ever know what you did to help this case along, and I'll bet that doesn't bother you."

"No, it doesn't."

"You're lucky to have someone like Ms. Shen who you can confide in and who'll stick with you. Don't lose her. I mean that. If I know anything about people I know she won't leave you unless you give her real good reason to leave."

"I'd never do anything like that!" Paul protested.

"Not premeditated, no, I'm sure you wouldn't. Paul, half the cases I deal with involve people who never intended doing anything wrong when they started out. It just sort of happened to them and before they knew it they were in deep. That applies to marriages breaking down, too. Do you think anyone plans to fall in love with another man or woman when they're already married? Some do. Most don't. They start out dipping a toe into bad acts and end up swimming in the deep end." She slapped her desk for emphasis. "I've talked to JAGs who've served on Mars. They handle a lot of long-distance divorces. A word to the wise, Paul. Don't let your marriage become one of the casualties on Mars."

"I'll remember that."

Alex Carr rose and held out her hand. "It's been good working with you and knowing you, Paul. Good luck until we meet again."

He shook her hand, feeling the strength of her grip as he realized that despite all the time they'd worked together this was one of the few times he and Commander Carr had actually had any kind of physical contact. "Do you think we'll meet again?"

"Yes. I've got a real strong feeling this isn't the last case we'll see together."

Paul stepped back and on impulse saluted. "Thanks, ma'am."

Carr returned the salute with one of her quick smiles. "Thank you. Take care of that woman of yours."

"Yes, ma'am."

Paul found his brother back at the hotel. David greeted him with a rueful smile. "You were right about that military lawyer, little bro. Alex Carr is a real fireball." His smile faded to a look of approval. "You won this one."

"It wasn't about me winning."

"But you don't mind me being on the losing side, do you? Hey, you beat me. It happens."

"David, it really wasn't about beating you. I wish this hadn't had to happen. I'm glad the espionage has been stopped, but I wish Pullman had never started doing it."

His brother nodded. "Yeah. Ugly stuff. Cases like this don't generate a lot of happily-ever-after endings. I wanted to tell you something, though. I've got to admit, from what I've seen up here, you've really got your stuff together. Very impressive, little bro."

Paul considered his brother, then nodded. "Thanks."

"I can't imagine driving that ship of yours around. You really do that?"

"Yeah, I really do that. Did that, rather. I detach the day after tomorrow and I won't be driving any ships again for a while."

"Oh, yeah. You'll have to tell me what Mars is like. As for Alex Carr, try to keep her up here, okay? I don't need challengers like that practicing law in my city."

"I don't think I'll have much control over that. When are you going back?"

"Two days. I couldn't book a seat on an earlier shuttle because of uncertainty about the end of the trial. Why?"

Paul hesitated. Get over it. "You know Jen and I had to move up the wedding on very short notice. It's tomorrow. Most of the guests and members of the wedding couldn't make it."

"Yeah. Raw deal. I'll be there, though."

"I know. The point is… I'm looking for a best man."

David frowned. "Are you asking me?"

"Yeah, I'm asking you."

"Well, damn it all." David made a fist and punched the nearest wall. "I was thinking it was past time we stopped acting like kids with grudges and was planning on making the first move. You beat me again."

"I'll try not to make a habit of it."

"What, you think you have to go easy on me?"

"No."

"Good." David smiled broadly. "To properly answer the question put to me, I'll be proud to be your best man. I understand this Jen of yours makes even an Alex Carr pale by comparison."

"Now that you mention it, she does."

Jen had, to Paul's surprise, chosen to wear a white wedding dress instead of a dress uniform. She looked like a dream come true, he thought, as she came down the short aisle of the Interdenominational Religious Worship Facility on the arm of Captain Kay Shen, and never mind that the phrase was a cliche because that was how he thought she looked. Captain Shen was staring straight ahead as he walked. Jen had discussed not inviting her father to the wedding, but Paul had talked her into it, insisting she'd regret it for the rest of her life otherwise. In the end, the argument that cinched it was that watching his daughter marry Paul would be a worse ordeal for Captain Shen than missing the wedding.

But Captain Shen managed to refrain from yelling out objections and the ceremony went off without a hitch.

There wasn't room for a sword arch outside the chapel, which was just as well considering that officers didn't carry their ceremonial swords along into space, and considering that Jen had threatened to murder anyone who carried out the traditional slap on the butt of the bride with the flat of one of the swords. Everyone held up small party favors which broadcast holographic images of butterflies flitting around the couple. Paul flinched as he discovered that the realistic images of insects had a tendency to appear to fly straight at his face, which was particularly disconcerting after spending three years in pretty much insect-free environments. Jen rolled her eyes at the butterfly display but laughed and chatted with friends who crowded around them.

"Paul! Congratulations!" Pam Connally was there, hugging him again. Paul stared at her, then at Jen.

Jen smiled back. "I just had to invite an 'old friend' of yours to the wedding, Paul."

"How did you-?"

"I knew where she worked." Jen and Pam exchanged high-fives.

Paul grinned, watching the two women talk. How do you like that? It looks like Jen and Pam Connally are going to be friends. Maybe having a cop for a friend will help keep Jen out of trouble while I'm gone.

Paul's mother stepped close, eyeing him suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you and David getting along? What are you two up to?"

"Oh, that. We just wanted to see if we could freak you out."

"You're succeeding." His mother sighed. "I've hardly seen you for three years and now you'll be gone for another four."

"You've got a new daughter-in-law who'll be a bit closer."

"That's true. What a woman you chose!"

"She reminded me of you."

His mother laughed. "That's a compliment even if you didn't intend it that way! Be careful and try to stay out of trouble."

Paul smiled reassuringly. "I have no intention of getting into any kind of trouble on Mars, mom."

"Sure you don't. Jen, did you hear that?" Jen stepped closer and nodded. "Do you believe it?"

"That Paul will stay out of trouble? No. Not a word."

"Good," Paul's mother replied. "I'm glad you're not entering into this marriage with any illusions. As for you, Paul, remember that Mars is full of two kinds of people; idealists who want nothing more than to conquer a new world for the rest of humanity, and malcontents who want nothing more than to get away from the rest of humanity. Try not to get caught in the middle."

"I promise."

The next day, Paul stood on the dock, gazing at the quarterdeck of the USS Michaelson. He'd stood in much the same place three years ago when he'd first laid eyes on the ship.

"What're you thinking?" Jen asked.

"That I had no idea what was waiting for me on that ship when I crossed that quarterdeck for the first time. If I'd known everything that was going to happen I would've run screaming in the other direction."

Jen gave him a sharp look. " I was one of the things waiting for you on that ship, Mister Sinclair."

"I remember. You scared the hell out of me."

"I did not."

"Everything scared the hell out of me." He smiled despite the sometimes painful memories. "I guess I learned a few things."

"You done good, Paul. Now, stop thinking about the past." Jen waved Paul onward. "Go ahead."

He gazed back at her. "You don't want to come aboard? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You don't need me tagging along while you do your final check-out, and I figure you've got the right to make any farewells alone. Besides, there's nobody left on the Merry Mike that I know anymore. I'll catch you back at our quarters."

Paul smiled at the thought of "our quarters." That was official now, though they'd be shoehorned together into Jen's single person compartment. "I be back as soon as I can."

"Damn straight. We've only got forty-eight hours for a honeymoon and I intend making the most of every minute. I'm trusting you not to get involved in any trouble for the short period of time before you get back to me. Can I count on that?"

"Me? Get involved in trouble?"

"Yeah, you." She leveled an index finger at him, then smiled back. "I love you, Lieutenant."

"And I love you, Lieutenant."

She laughed and headed away as Paul turned to board the Michaelson.

He raced through the few remaining items on his check-off list. When he got to the item requiring him to see his department head, Paul used a trick Ensign Taylor had taught him to make the block turn green even though he hadn't actually seen Commander Moraine. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her this morning.

Commander Kwan, busy with something else, barely looked at Paul as he tapped Paul's data pad and sent him on his way. No love lost there.

Last but certainly not least, Captain Agee greeted Paul with a smile, then explained that since he'd only been aboard a short time, far too short a time to independently evaluate Paul, he was giving him a less than ninety days fitness report, thereby extending the marks on the fitness report Captains Hayes had given Paul to cover the rest of his time on the ship. Barely suppressing an urge to dance with joy over avoiding a fitness report with marks set by Kwan and Moraine, Paul shook Agee's hand as he wished Paul the best.

Formally speaking, that was it. Paul looked down at his data pad. The little icon in the corner which had declared him to be a member of the crew of the USS Michaelson, and which had been ever-present for the last three years, was gone now. It was time to do his personal good-byes..

Ensign Taylor high-five'd Paul, offering a fond farewell and some final obscene advice for keeping Jen happy. Paul wandered through officer's country, meeting and greeting the officers he'd spent varying amounts of time knowing and working with. He could remember when each of them had come aboard, and every one of them had known him ever since they came aboard. Lieutenant Isakov was too busy to talk, naturally, and Commander Smithe was nowhere to be seen, also naturally, but the others offered sincere good-byes. Even Commander Destin, who'd never quite gotten over Lieutenant Silver's court-martial, thanked Paul for the chance to work with him.

Having paid his respects to his shipmates in the wardroom, Paul made his final rounds of the USS Michaelson. Senior Chief Imari and some of Paul's sailors were in Combat and offered to-all-appearances genuine regrets at his departure. Paul didn't linger, thinking the compartment he'd once held as the center of his responsibilities on the ship already felt alien now that it no longer belonged to him but to Lieutenant Junior Grade Shwartz. He hoped the new CIC officer would do a good job of looking out for the sailors he'd once commanded.

Paul stood alone on the bridge for a few moments, thinking of the many hours he'd spent there, most of them uneventful but some full of tension and danger. He looked toward the corner where he'd been located when Captain Wakeman had mistakenly ordered the destruction of an unarmed ship. It was hard to remember the brand-new ensign he'd been then, unsure and inexperienced.

Forward Engineering felt oddly welcoming. Paul, hoping no one was watching, saluted into the emptiness. Farewell, Chief Asher. Then onward, through compartment after compartment, down narrow passageways grown familiar from years of travel through them, sailors wishing him cheery farewells as they passed, Paul only stopping for long again when he reached the place where Petty Officer Davidas had died. And farewell to you, too. I hope you keep looking out for the crew. And looking out for the ship. I can't do that anymore. My time here is done.

He walked back up to the quarterdeck. The other junior officers were waiting, lined up on either side of the brow. He faced the officer of the deck inport and saluted with extra precision. "Request permission to go ashore."

Lieutenant Junior Grade Gabriel returned the salute with a grin. "Permission granted. Fair winds and following seas, Paul." Then she gave Paul a thumbs up and gestured to the petty officer of the watch. The petty officer activated the ship's general announcing system and bonged the ship's bell twice before declaring "Lieutenant, United States Navy, departing."

"Sideboys! Hand salute!" The two ranks of junior officers brought their hands up.

Paul raised his own arm, holding his salute as he walked between the ranks, over the brow and off of the USS Michaelson for the last time. Behind him, he heard the command "Ready, two!" as the others lowered their salutes.

He didn't look back at the ship, at the quarterdeck he'd first crossed three years earlier in the company of Senior Chief Kowalski, to meet for the first time Ensign Denaldo and Lieutenant Junior Grade Meadows and Lieutenant Sindh and Commander Sykes and many others. They were already gone, moved on with their careers and their lives, and now he didn't belong to the Michaelson anymore, either, though he knew part of him would always remain on the ship which had taken so much from him yet also seen him grow into an experienced officer.

Jen was waiting. So, unfortunately, was Mars. But he could handle that. After the Michaelson, he figured he could handle anything.