Once a Hero
Once a Hero
Esmay had time to meditate on those
words as the long arm of the Fleet's judicial branch separated her from the other junior
officers, put her aboard a courier-escort, and whisked her to Fleet Headquarters a full
eight days before the others arrived. She met her defense counsel, a balding middle-aged
major who looked more like a bureaucrat than an officer; he had the incipient paunch of
someone who avoided the gym except in the last few weeks before the annual physical
fitness test.
"It would've made sense for them to
link the cases," Major Chapin grumbled, poring over Esmay's file. "Starting at
the back end, you are the hero of Xavier; you saved the planet, the system, and an
admiral's niece's ass. Unfortunately--"
"It was explained to me," Esmay
said.
"Good. At least none of the records
are missing. We'll need to prepare separately for the Captain's Board of Inquiry and for
each of the main threats of the court martial. I hope you have an organized mind--"
"I think so," Esmay said.
"Good. For the time being, forget
military protocol, if you can; I'm going to call you Esmay, and you're going to call me
Fred, because we have too much work to let formalities slow us down. Clear?"
"Yes, sir--Fred."
"Good. Now--tell me everything you
told the investigators, and then everything you didn't tell them. The whole story of your
life isn't too long. I won't get bored, and I don't know what's useful until I hear
it."
In the next days, Esmay found that Major
Chapin meant what he'd said. She also found herself increasingly comfortable talking to
him, which made her nervous. She reminded herself that she was a grownup, not a child who
could throw herself at any friendly adult when she needed comfort. She even mentioned the
nightmares, the ones connected to Xavier.
"You might want to consider a psych
session," he said. "If it's bothering you that much."
"It's not now," she said.
"It was those first days after . . ."
"Sounds normal to me. If you're
sleeping well enough to stay alert . . . there's an advantage in not going for a psych
evaluation now, you see, because it might look as if we're going to plead mental
incompetence."
"Oh."
"But by all means, if you need
it--"
"I don't," Esmay said firmly.
"Good . . . now about this petty
thievery you said was plaguing the enlisted lockers . . ."
Circumstances conspired to shift the date of the court martial so that the Captain's Board
met first. Major Chapin grumbled about this, too.
"You don't take counsel to a Board of
Inquiry, so you'll have to remember everything we've talked about by yourself. You can
always ask for a short recess and come ask me, but it leaves a bad impression. Damn it--I
wanted you to have experience before you went in alone."
"Can't be helped," Esmay said.
He looked mildly surprised, which almost annoyed her. Had he expected her to complain when
it could do no good? To make a useless fuss, and to him?
"I'm glad you're taking it that way.
Now--if they don't bring up the matter of the damage to the nav computer, you have two
choices--" That session went on for hours, until Esmay felt she understood the point
of Chapin's advice, as well as the advice itself.
The morning the Board hearing began,
Chapin walked her into the building and all the way to the anteroom where he would wait in
case she asked for a recess and his guidance. "Chin up, Lieutenant," he said as
the door opened. "Keep in mind that you won the battle and didn't lose your
ship."
The Board of Inquiry made no allowances for the irregular way in which Esmay had arrived
in command of Despite, or so it seemed from the questions. If a Jig commanded in
battle, that Jig had better know what she was doing, and every error Esmay made came up.
Even before the next senior officer died
of wounds, why had she not prepared for command--surely that mess on the bridge could have
been cleaned up faster? Esmay, remembering the near-panic, the need to secure every single
compartment, check every single crew member, still thought there were more important
things than cleaning blood off the command chair. She didn't say that, but she did list
the other emergencies that had seemed more pressing. The Board chair, a hard-faced
one-star admiral Esmay had never heard anything about, good or bad, listened to this with
compressed lips and no expression she could read.
Well then, when she took command, why had
she chosen to creep into one system--the right move, all agreed, given what she found--and
then go blazing back into Xavier, where she had every reason to believe an enemy force lay
in wait? Didn't she realize that more competent mining of the jump point entry corridor
would have made that suicidal? Esmay wasn't about to argue that her decision made sense;
she had followed an instinct, not anything rational, and instincts killed more often than
they saved.
And why hadn't she thought of using a
microjump to kill momentum earlier, when she might have saved two ships and not just one?
Esmay explained about the nav computer, the need to patch a replacement chip from one of
the missile-control units. And on and on, hour after hour. They seemed far less
interested--in fact, not interested at all--in how the Despite had blown the enemy
flagship, than in her mistakes. The Board replayed surveillance material, pointed out
discrepancies, lectured, and when it was over at last Esmay went out feeling as if she'd
been boiled until all her bones dissolved in the soup.
Major Chapin, waiting in the anteroom
where he'd watched on a video link, handed her a glass of water. "You probably don't
believe this, but you did as well as you could, given the circumstances."
"I don't think so." She sipped
the water. Major Chapin sat watching her until she had finished that glass.
"Lieutenant, I know you're tired and
probably feel that you've been pulled sideways through a wire gauge, but you need to hear
this. Boards of Inquiry are supposed to be grueling. That's part of their purpose. You
stood up there and told the truth; you didn't get flustered; you didn't waffle; you didn't
make excuses. Your handling of the nav computer failure was perfect--you gave them the
facts and then dropped it. You let Timmy Warndstadt chew you up one side and down the
other, and at the end you were still on your feet answering stupid questions in a civil
tone of voice. I've worked with senior commanders who did worse."
"Really?" She wasn't sure if it
was hope she felt, or simply astonishment that someone-- anyone--could approve of
something she did.
"Really. Not only that, remember what
I told you at the beginning: you didn't lose your ship and you made a decisive move in the
battle. They can't ignore that, even if they think it was blind accident. And after your
testimony, they're much less likely to think it was accidental. I wish they'd asked more
about the details; you were right not to volunteer it, since it would've sounded like
making excuses, but . . . it annoys me when they ignore briefs. I put it all in; the least
they could do is read it and ask the right questions. Of course there will be negative
comments; there always are, if something gets as far as a Board. But they know--whether
they're willing to admit it or not--that you did well for a junior in combat for the first
time."
The door opened, and Esmay had to go back.
She returned to her place, facing the long table with the five officers.
"This is a complicated case,"
Admiral Warndstadt said. "And the Board has arrived at a complicated resolution.
Lieutenant Suiza, this Board finds that your handling of the Despite from the time
you assumed effective command after Dovir's wounds rendered him incapable of taking the
bridge, to your . . . precipitous . . . return to Xavier, was within the standards
expected of a Fleet captain." Esmay felt the first quiver of hope that she was not
going to be tossed out on her ear, just before being imprisoned as the result of the court
martial.
Admiral Warndstadt went on, this time
reading from notes. "However, your tactical decisions, when you returned to the
Xavier system, were markedly substandard. This Board notes that this was your first
experience of combat and your first time in command of a ship; the Board makes appropriate
allowance for these circumstances. Still, the Board recommends that you not be considered
for command of a Regular Space Service vessel until you have shown, in combat situations,
the level of tactical and operational competence expected of warship commanders."
Esmay almost nodded; as Chapin had warned her, and she already understood, they could not
ignore her mistakes. Such Boards existed to point out to captains that luck, even great
good luck, was no substitute for competence.
Warndstadt looked up at her again, this
time with one corner of that lean mouth tucked up in what might almost be a smile.
"On the other hand, the Board notes that your unorthodox maneuvers resulted in the
defeat of an enemy vessel markedly superior in firepower and mass, and the successful
defense of Xavier. You seem well aware of your shortcomings as commander of a ship in
combat; the Board feels that your character and your deportment are both suitable for
command positions in the future, as long as you get the requisite experience first. Few
lieutenants junior grade command anything bigger than a shuttle anyway; the Board's
recommendation should have the effect of giving you time to grow into your potential.
Now--a complete transcript of the Board's recommendation will be forwarded to you and your
counsel at a later date, should you wish to appeal."
She would be crazy to appeal; this was the
best outcome she could have hoped for.
"Yes, sir," she said.
"Thank you, sir." She got through the rest of the ritual, the dismissal of the
Board and the necessary individual acknowledgement of each member, without being fully
aware what she said. She wanted to fall into a bed and sleep for a month . . . but in
three days, her court martial would begin. In the meantime, she had to record her initial
statements for the other courts martial, including Commander Serrano's.
"Everything's unusual about
this," Chapin said, as one who disapproved on principle of the unusual. "They
had a time finding enough officers to sit on this many different boards and courts at
once, and they're short of space, too. So they're shuffling people and spaces, and decided
that since you're in such demand they can, after all, accept recorded testimony for some
of it. With any luck, you won't actually have to appear in person in all of them . . .
they certainly can't yank you out of yours just to answer two questions in some other
Jig's trial. It rushes you right now, but then your defense is simple anyway."
"It is?"
"In principle. Were you a
conspirator, intending to commit a mutiny? No. Were you a traitor, in the pay of a foreign
power? No. Simple. I expect they'll ask all the awkward questions they can think of, just
so it looks good, and in case the original investigators forgot to check . . . but it's
clear to me, and should be clear to them, that you were an ordinary junior officer who
reacted to a developing situation--luckily, in the best interests of both Fleet and the
Familias Regnant. The only problem I see . . ." He paused, and gave her a long look.
"Yes?" Esmay finally said, when
waiting produced nothing but that steady stare.
"It's going to be difficult to
present you as the ordinary junior officer--although your fitness reports support that,
putting you right square in the middle of your class--when you became the very unordinary
youngest-ever captain to blow away a Benignity heavy cruiser. They're going to want to
know why you were hiding that kind of ability . . . how you hid that kind of
ability. Why were you denying Fleet the benefit of your talent?"
"That's what Admiral Serrano
said." Esmay forced her shoulders back; she wanted to hunch into a little ball.
"And what did you say?"
"I . . . couldn't answer. I don't
know. I didn't know I could do it until I did it, and I still find it hard to
believe."
"Such modesty." Something in the
tone chilled her. "I'm your defense counsel, and more than that I'm an attorney with
many years of experience--I was in civil practice and Fleet reserves before I went
full-time into Fleet. You may be able to fool yourself, young woman, but you don't fool
me. You did what you did because you are unusually capable. Some of that capability showed
up on the screening exams you took to get into Fleet in the first place--or had you
forgotten your scores?"
She had; she had dismissed them as a fluke
when her grades in the Fleet prep school came out only slightly above average.
"I'm now convinced," Chapin went
on, "that you were not hiding your talents for any obvious reason--such as being a
Benignity agent--but you were hiding them. You avoided command track as if it had thorns
all over it. I pulled your file from prep school and talked to your instructors in the
Academy too. They're all kicking themselves for not noticing, and nurturing, such an
obvious talent for command--"
"But I made mistakes," Esmay
said. She could not let this go on. She had been lucky, she had had outstanding senior
NCOs who had done most of it . . . she rattled this off as fast as she could, while Chapin
sat watching her with the same skeptical expression.
"It won't do," he said finally.
"For your own good, Lieutenant Suiza--" He had not called her that from the
first day; she stiffened. "For your own good," he repeated more softly.
"You must face what you are; you must admit how much of what happened was your doing.
Your decisions--good ones. Your ability to take charge, to get that performance from those
you commanded. It was no accident. Whether the court dwells on this or not, you must. If
you truly did not know what you were capable of--if you didn't know you were hiding your
abilities--then you must figure out why. Otherwise the rest of your life will be one mess
after another." As if she had spoken, his finger came up and leveled at her.
"And no, you cannot go back to being just another ordinary junior officer, not after
this. Whatever the court decides, reality has decided. You are special. People will expect
more, and you'd better learn to handle that."
Esmay struggled to keep calm. One corner
of her mind wondered why it was so hard to believe she was talented; most of it
concentrated on the need for control.
The Board, technically considered an
administrative and not a judicial procedure, had attracted no media attention, but the
multiple courts martial of junior officers involved in a mutiny--and then in the
successful defense of Xavier--was too juicy to miss. Fleet kept the defendants isolated as
long as it could, but Chapin warned Esmay that politics demanded the courts be open to
selected media coverage.
"Usually no one much cares about
courts martial," he said. "The rare one that has some publicity value is usually
kept closed, on the grounds of military necessity. But this case-- or rather, all your
cases--are unique in Familias history. We've had to court martial groups of officers
before--the Trannvis Revolt, for instance--but we've never had to court martial a group
that had done something good. That has the newshounds baying for blood . . . not
yours, yet, but any blood that happens to hit the ground. And in a situation this complex,
someone's going to bleed."
Esmay grimaced. "I wish they
wouldn't--"
"Of course. And I don't want you
sitting over the screens keeping track of the media; it will only tie you in knots. But
you needed to know before you went in that there will be media there, and they'll try to
get statements from you between sessions, even though they have been told you are
forbidden to give them. Just don't say anything, anything at all, while you're going from
the courtroom to the rooms where you'll be sequestered between sessions. I don't have to
tell you to keep a composed face; you always do."Despite the warning, the mass
of video and audio pickups, the competing voices of the media interviewers, were like a
blow to the face on her first trip between the defendants' suite and the courtroom.
"Lieutenant Suiza, is it true that
you killed Captain Hearne yourself--?"
"Lieutenant Suiza, just a word about
Commander Serrano, please--?"
"There she is--Lieutenant Suiza, how
does it feel to be a hero?"
"Lieutenant Suiza, what will your
family think about your being court martialed--?"
She could feel her face settling into a
stony mask, but behind that mask she felt helpless, terrified. A murderer? A hero? No, she
was a very junior lieutenant who could happily have stayed in obscurity for decades yet.
Her family's opinion of courts martial . . . she didn't want to think about that. Mindful
of the publicity problem, she had sent only the briefest message to them--and asked them
not to reply. She didn't trust even Fleet ansibles to keep such messages secure under the
pressure of every news service in the Familias.
Inside the courtroom, she faced another
bank of media pickups. Even as she followed the ritual of the court, she could not fail to
be aware that every word, every fleeting expression, would be broadcast across the worlds
for all to see. Chapin, waiting at the defense table, muttered "Relax, Lieutenant;
you look as if you were about to try the court and not the other way around."
All the cases were linked by the need for
officers to testify about each other's behavior-- because of the need to determine whether
the mutiny resulted from a conspiracy. But Esmay, as the senior surviving officer, had
been nominally charged with additional violations of the Code. Chapin had emphasized that
the charges were required--that he expected a fairly quick dismissal of most of them,
given that no evidence supported them. "Unfortunately," he'd said, "just
because Hearne was a traitor doesn't mean that you mutineers are out of danger: if there's
any evidence that there was a conspiracy to mutiny before there was clear evidence of
Hearne's treachery, then that conspiracy, by itself, is cause for a guilty verdict on that
charge."
But as far as Esmay knew, none of the
subordinates not in the pay of the Compassionate Hand had suspected Hearne or the others.
She certainly hadn't. Hearne had seemed a bit slapdash in some ways, but she was rumored
to be brilliant in combat, and rumor also linked a mild disregard for
"unnecessary" regulations with superior combat ability.
Now she found herself retelling the story
of her assignment to Despite all over again. Her duties, her usual routine during
time off-duty, her responsibilities to officers even more junior, her evaluation of her
peers.
"And you had suspected nothing about
Captain Hearne, Major Cossordi, Major Stek, or Lieutenant Arvad?"
"No, sir," Esmay said. She had
said this before, about each one separately.
"And to your knowledge, no one else
suspected that they were in the pay of the Benignity?"
"No, sir."
"Did you have a particular
relationship with Dovir?" The idea was so ludicrous that Esmay nearly lost control of
her expression.
"Dovir, sir? No, sir." Silence
lengthened; she was tempted to explain Dovir's preferences in particular companions, and
decided better not.
"And you never heard anything of a
plot to mutiny against Captain Hearne?"
"No, sir."
"No grumbling of any sort, from
officer or enlisted?"
That was a different matter. Grumbling
filled ships as air did; people had grumbled about everything from the food to the
shortage of gym slots; people always did. Esmay picked her words with care. "Sir, of
course I heard people grumble; they do. But not more than on any other ship."
A huff of annoyance from one of the
officers. "And you have so much experience on so many ships!" he said, dripping
sarcasm.Chapin stood up. "Objection."
"Sustained." The chairman gave
the speaker a disapproving look. "You are aware of the standards, Thedrun."
"Sir."
The chair peered at Esmay. "Please
discuss the nature of the grumbling, Lieutenant Suiza. This court is not sure that an
inexperienced officer is fully aware of the amount of grumbling that is normal."
"Yes, sir." Esmay paused,
dragging up from the depths of her memory a few instances. "When Despite was
in the yards, before I joined her, the recreation area had been cut by about thirty
percent, to allow retrofitting of the enhanced charged beam generator on the portside.
That meant losing fifteen of the exercise machines; it would have been nineteen, but
Captain Hearne approved a tighter spacing. However, this meant shortening the exercise
periods, and some crew could not get their required exercise without getting up on their
down shift. Some complained that Hearne should have relaxed the exercise requirements, or
installed the other machines elsewhere."
"What else?"
"Well, there was apparently a sneak
thief pilfering from enlisted lockers. That caused a lot of annoyance, because it should
have been easy enough to catch, but the scanners never caught anything."
"They'd been tampered
with?""Chief Bascome assumed so, but couldn't prove it. It went on for . . .
perhaps twenty or thirty days . . . and then it never happened again. The items taken were
rarely of great monetary value, but always personal treasures." Should she mention
that they'd been found after the battle, in the cleanup phase, in the locker of someone
killed? Yes; she had been taught that withholding information was the same as lying.
"We found the things after the battle," she said. "But the person whose
locker they were in had died in the original fight."
"The mutiny, you mean."
"Yes, sir. Under the circumstances,
we just gave the stuff back to the owners--the surviving ones, that is."
A grunt from the chairman, which she could
not interpret.
The trial went on, hour after tedious
hour. Most of the time the questions made sense, examining what she had known, what she
had witnessed, what she had done. Other times the court seemed determined to follow some
useless thread of inquiry--like the kinds of grumbling she'd observed--into a thicket
where they would lodge until one of them kicked free and returned to the main issues.
One of the side-issues turned nasty. The
hectoring Thedrun had continued to ask his questions as if he was sure she was guilty of
something dire. He began asking her about her responsibility in regard to supervising the
ensigns. "Isn't it true, Lieutenant Suiza, that you were charged with ensuring that
the ensigns carried out their duties and put in the required hours of study?"
"Sir, that duty rotated among the
four senior lieutenants junior grade, under the supervision of Lieutenant Hangard. I was
assigned that duty for the first thirty days after Despite left Sector HQ, then it
devolved onto the next senior, Lieutenant Junior Grade Pelisandre for thirty days, and so
on."
"But as the senior, you were
ultimately responsible--?"
"No, sir. Lieutenant Hangard had made
it clear that he wished the Jig--sorry--"
"Never mind," the chairman said.
"We do know what the word means."
"Well, then, Lieutenant Hangard
wanted the Jig in charge of the ensigns to report directly to him. He said we each needed
to feel the responsibility alone for a short time." Where was this leading?
"Then you are not aware that Ensign
Arphan was engaged in illegal diversion of military equipment?"
"What!" Esmay couldn't keep her
voice from reacting to that. "Ensign Arphan? But he's--"
"Ensign Arphan," the chairman
said, "has been convicted of diversion and illegal sale of military goods to
unlicensed buyers--in this case, his father's shipping company."
"I . . . it's hard to believe,"
Esmay said. On second thought, she could believe it, but still . . . why hadn't she
noticed? How had someone else found out?
"You haven't answered the question:
were you or were you not aware that Ensign Arphan had illegally diverted military
equipment?"
"No, sir, I was not aware of
that."
"Very well. Now, about the mutiny
itself--" Esmay wondered why they bothered to ask questions which the surveillance
cubes had already answered. Hearne had attempted to destroy all the records of her
conversation with Serrano, but the mutiny erupted before she could. So the court had seen
the playbacks, from several angles . . . for Serrano had of course recorded Hearne's
transmissions, and the transmissions agreed.
What seemed to worry the court most was
the possibility that the junior officers had been plotting even before Hearne defied
Serrano. Esmay repeated her earlier statements, and they picked them apart. How was it
possible that she had not known Hearne was a traitor before? How was it possible that she
had been party to a successful mutiny, if she had not been involved in some plan with the
other mutineers ahead of time? Was it really that easy to produce a spontaneous mutiny?
By the end of the second day, Esmay wanted
to bang heads. She found it hard to believe that a whole row of senior officers were so
incapable of recognizing what lay in front of them--so insistent on finding something
other than the plain, obvious truth. Hearne had been a traitor, along with a few others of
the officers and some of the enlisted. No one had noticed because, up until the moment she
defied Serrano, her actions had not been suspicious.
"You never had any suspicion that she
was using illicit pharmaceuticals?" one of them asked for the third time.
"No, sir," Esmay said. She had
said that before. Captain Hearne had never appeared under the influence, not that Esmay
would have been able to recognize subtle effects of drugs . . . even if she'd seen that
much of Hearne. Esmay had no way to know what she was taking. Nor had she investigated
Hearne's cabin after the mutiny to find out. She had had a battle to fight.
More questions followed, on Hearne's
motivation; Major Chapin cut those off repeatedly. Esmay was glad to sit and let him
handle it; she felt stale and grumpy as well as tired. Of course she didn't know why
Hearne might have turned traitor; of course she didn't know if Hearne had been in debt,
had had political connections to a foreign government, had harbored some grievance against
Fleet. How could she?
Her own motivations came into question;
Esmay answered as calmly as she could. She had harbored no grievance against Captain
Hearne, who had spoken to her only a few times. When Hearne's private log came into
evidence, she found that Hearne had described Lieutenant Junior Grade Suiza as
"competent but colorless; causes no trouble, but lacks initiative."
"Do you feel you lack
initiative?" asked the board chair.Esmay considered this. Were they hoping she'd say
yes, or no? What hook did they plan to hang her on? "Sir, I'm sure Captain Hearne had
reason to think that. It is my habit to be cautious, to be sure I understand the situation
fully before stating an opinion. I was, therefore, not the first to offer solutions or
suggestions when the captain posed a problem."
"You didn't resent her opinion?"
"No," Esmay said. "I
thought she was right."
"And you were satisfied with
that?"
"Sir, I was not satisfied with
myself, but the captain's opinion seemed fair."
"I notice you use the past tense . .
. do you still feel the captain's evaluation of you was accurate?"
"Objection," Chapin said
quickly. "Lt. Suiza's present self-evaluation and its comparison to Captain Hearne's
prior evaluation is not an issue."
At last it wound down . . . all the
evidence given, all the questions asked and asked again, all the arguments made by
opposing counsel. Esmay waited while the officers conferred; in the reverse of the Board
procedures, she stayed in the courtroom while the members withdrew.
"Take a long breath," Chapin
said. "You're looking pale again . . . but you did very well."
"It seemed so . . . so
complicated."
"Well, if they let it look as simple
as it is, they'd have no good reason for a trial, except that it's the regulations. With
all the media coverage, they don't want to make it look easy; they want it to look as if
they were thorough and demanding."
"Can you tell--?"
"How it will come out? If they don't
acquit you of all charges, I'll be very surprised . . . they have the Board report; they
know you've been chewed on about mistakes. And if they don't acquit, we'll appeal--that'll
be easier, actually, out from under the media's many eyes. Besides, they found themselves
a bad apple to squash, that young Arphan fellow."
The officers returned, and Esmay stood,
heart beating so that she could scarcely breathe. What would it be?
"Lieutenant Junior Grade Esmay Suiza,
it is the decision of this court that you are innocent of all charges made against you;
this court has voted unanimously for acquittal. Congratulations, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, sir." She managed to
stay on her feet during the final ceremonies, which again included greeting each officer
on the court, and the prosecuting counsel, who--now that he wasn't badgering her with
questions--seemed friendly and harmless.
"I knew we didn't have a
chance," he said, shaking her hand. "It was obvious from the evidence, really,
but we had to go through with it. Unless you'd come in here blind drunk and assaulted an
admiral, you were safe enough."
"I didn't feel safe," Esmay
said.
He laughed. "Then I did my job,
Lieutenant. That's what I'm supposed to do, scare the defendant into admitting every scrap
of guilt. You just didn't happen to have any." He turned to Chapin. "Fred, why
do you always get the easy ones? The last fellow I had to defend was a mean-minded SOB
who'd been blackmailing recruits."
"I'm rewarded for my virtues,"
Chapin said blandly, and they both laughed. Esmay didn't feel like joining in; she felt
like finding a quiet place to sleep for a week.
"What'll you do now,
Lieutenant?" asked one of the other officers.
"Take some leave," she said.
"They said it'd be awhile before they had a new assignment for me, and I could have
thirty days home leave plus travel. I haven't been home since I left." She wasn't
that anxious to go home, but she knew no other way to escape the media attention.
Copyright © 1997 by Elizabeth Moon