last three days. Her solicitor rose as well, and stepped back a step, leaving her alone to face them. Jessica was not offended. The man had done a splendid job presenting her case and protecting her command decisions from the prosecution.
But they both knew that this was going to be a political decision. And she just didn’t know the five Justices on the court well enough to know how many of them were classified as Fighting Lords , and how many were Noble Lords . It was probably a fair mix.
How fair?
So she stood and came to parade rest, her hands crossed behind her, chin up, eyes challenging these men and women to do their worst. It was what she was best at.
“Centurion Keller,” the president began in his grand, stentorian voice, “you have been accused of dereliction of duty and willfully disobeying a direct order by your lawful superior officer, in regards to what has been recorded as the Third Battle of Iger . You have pled not guilty.”
He paused there to fix her with those great, beetling eyebrows, like an owl about to pounce on a field mouse.
The field mouse considered baring her teeth in response.
“This Court,” he continued, “has heard all the necessary testimony, which is hereinafter entered into the record, and stands prepared to make final our judgment. Do you have anything further to say to this Court?”
Jessica took a quick, shallow breath through her nose and flexed the muscles quickly in her back, all the while standing as a marble statue.
“If it please the Court, your Honors,” she said after a beat, nodding, “I do not.”
The president nodded in satisfaction. He looked down at the paper before him once more before he looked up at her. She could see traces of triumph creeping into his eyes and his voice as he spoke.
Whose triumph?
“This Court finds the defendant…not guilty, and commands that the charges against her be struck from her record. Further…”
Whatever else he said was drowned by the sudden surge of cheers and noise behind her. Jessica would read the decision later. For now, she was mobbed by an impossibly large mass of well–wishers wanting to shake her hand, or touch her arm, or just say thank you to her.
Who were all these people?
She looked around for her solicitor, but the man had already been swallowed by the sea of humanity. Marcelle managed to elbow and jostle her way through the mess long enough to lean in close, just as a Fleet Lord Jessica had never met kissed her on both cheeks.
“ He would like you to call upon him,” Marcelle growled in her ear. Said that way, there was no real doubt as to who she meant. Jessica nodded, but knew it would be several minutes before she could escape the press.
What had she done to be so popular with so many people?
Chapter III
Date of the Republic June 26, 392 Command Headquarters: Ladaux
It was a non–descript door, simply marked 2304 .
Jessica watched as Marcelle rapped firmly on the door with her knuckles and then stepped back and out of the way.
Marcelle gave her an automatic once–over before nodding. Jessica had not, after all, had time to muss her dress uniform, yet.
The day was young.
Jessica came to parade rest beside Marcelle and waited. The first half of her fate had already been decided, downstairs in that court room. The other half waited on the other side of this portal. It was perhaps the most notorious door in the Fleet, the personal office of the First Lord of the Fleet.
The door opened silently into the bulkhead.
“Enter,” a man’s voice called.
Marcelle stepped through first, moved to the right, and came to rest out of the way. Jessica followed an instant later.
As offices on fleet space stations went, it was neither large nor ostentatious, as befit the man sitting behind the desk. Two chairs in front, bolted down, a small plant in a pot on a sidebar, pictures of First Lord Kasum’s father and brother in their full Senatorial regalia, scattered in with the pictures of the First
But they both knew that this was going to be a political decision. And she just didn’t know the five Justices on the court well enough to know how many of them were classified as Fighting Lords , and how many were Noble Lords . It was probably a fair mix.
How fair?
So she stood and came to parade rest, her hands crossed behind her, chin up, eyes challenging these men and women to do their worst. It was what she was best at.
“Centurion Keller,” the president began in his grand, stentorian voice, “you have been accused of dereliction of duty and willfully disobeying a direct order by your lawful superior officer, in regards to what has been recorded as the Third Battle of Iger . You have pled not guilty.”
He paused there to fix her with those great, beetling eyebrows, like an owl about to pounce on a field mouse.
The field mouse considered baring her teeth in response.
“This Court,” he continued, “has heard all the necessary testimony, which is hereinafter entered into the record, and stands prepared to make final our judgment. Do you have anything further to say to this Court?”
Jessica took a quick, shallow breath through her nose and flexed the muscles quickly in her back, all the while standing as a marble statue.
“If it please the Court, your Honors,” she said after a beat, nodding, “I do not.”
The president nodded in satisfaction. He looked down at the paper before him once more before he looked up at her. She could see traces of triumph creeping into his eyes and his voice as he spoke.
Whose triumph?
“This Court finds the defendant…not guilty, and commands that the charges against her be struck from her record. Further…”
Whatever else he said was drowned by the sudden surge of cheers and noise behind her. Jessica would read the decision later. For now, she was mobbed by an impossibly large mass of well–wishers wanting to shake her hand, or touch her arm, or just say thank you to her.
Who were all these people?
She looked around for her solicitor, but the man had already been swallowed by the sea of humanity. Marcelle managed to elbow and jostle her way through the mess long enough to lean in close, just as a Fleet Lord Jessica had never met kissed her on both cheeks.
“ He would like you to call upon him,” Marcelle growled in her ear. Said that way, there was no real doubt as to who she meant. Jessica nodded, but knew it would be several minutes before she could escape the press.
What had she done to be so popular with so many people?
Chapter III
Date of the Republic June 26, 392 Command Headquarters: Ladaux
It was a non–descript door, simply marked 2304 .
Jessica watched as Marcelle rapped firmly on the door with her knuckles and then stepped back and out of the way.
Marcelle gave her an automatic once–over before nodding. Jessica had not, after all, had time to muss her dress uniform, yet.
The day was young.
Jessica came to parade rest beside Marcelle and waited. The first half of her fate had already been decided, downstairs in that court room. The other half waited on the other side of this portal. It was perhaps the most notorious door in the Fleet, the personal office of the First Lord of the Fleet.
The door opened silently into the bulkhead.
“Enter,” a man’s voice called.
Marcelle stepped through first, moved to the right, and came to rest out of the way. Jessica followed an instant later.
As offices on fleet space stations went, it was neither large nor ostentatious, as befit the man sitting behind the desk. Two chairs in front, bolted down, a small plant in a pot on a sidebar, pictures of First Lord Kasum’s father and brother in their full Senatorial regalia, scattered in with the pictures of the First
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