August 25th, 2262. 09:15 Washington D.C. Senate Public Hearing Room.
John was sitting down at his assigned seat. Flanked at either side of him were Captains Brook Walker and Julia Ekre. The women were busy getting their things prepared. John reached for the water glass and poured himself a drink, he was also grinning at the origins of the Confederacy.
The heart of political power for the Confederacy resided in Washington D.C. The United States had been the primary funding member and as such used that outsized power as leverage to force the new organization to use its own political buildings and programs. It wasn’t without substantial concessions, but the heart of the government resided here.
He looked around the ornate marble room. It was rebuilt in 2131 thanks to a combined attack by Belter and Russian terrorists. In true American fashion, the building was built bigger and better than before. That also meant that the construction costs were nearly quadruple what was budgeted, and it was finished only six years late.
It was however an absolutely gorgeous room. Marble pillars were created out of joining dozens of pieces that encircled a metal beam of some sort that held up the viewing galleries. The House and Senate had their own private galleries. The UN petitioned to have one built as well, but it was substantially small than the others.
The remaining public galleries were closed to this hearing. News media from across Confederate territories had set up shop there. John glanced over at it and there were at least five hundred remotely operated cameras, each from a different organization.
Sitting directly behind him were numerous members of the armed services that will be giving testimony throughout the hearing. Others included high-ranking members of the Navy and Marines. There were a surprising number of public relations officers present too.
Flanking them on one side were nearly five hundred seats that were just given out via a daily lottery to the general population. The other side, nearly fifteen hundred seats in total, were reserved for families that lost loved ones in the attack that occurred in the Lambda Bootis system. It had yet to be given a colloquial name, but John was certain that this was coming. ‘Shephard’s Gambit’ was too kind and didn’t fully convey the failure that the attack was.
Several politicians filed into the room, each one looked more and more self-important than the last to John. The very last one was a Hispanic man in his late seventies. John did a fair amount of research on Senator Fitzpatrick, but he didn’t bother looking at any of his pictures. He did not come close to matching the image he had created for the man in his mind. The voice though was deadly accurate.
In his thick and distinctive accent found amongst western Texan cattlemen, the senator spoke, “Good morning y’all. This hearing, HR 214c.2, is being called to order. Our goal throughout this investigation is to get the bottom of what caused the leadership within First Fleet’s Stealth and Reconnaissance Wing to attack and ultimately lose to the enemy.”
The senator banged the gavel. The room grew silent quickly, with the odd whisper happening here and there. Visitors and the media were warned that they’d be expelled if they created any disturbances.
Senator Karen Carter was the first to speak up, “Senator Fitzpatrick, I would like to formalize my objection to the concession the committee made to the military. We, not the military, dictate the order of the witnesses.”
“The objection is noted and overruled,” Fitzpatrick said icily, “The Navy has made a request that it be able to utilize its officers in an efficient means. Failure to do so will have a negative impact on several young officers. Should the need arise to question them again, the Navy agreed to make them available through electronic means.”
“It is against the rules…” Karen was interrupted.
“The senator has made an objection. It has been noted and overruled. That matter is closed as far as this hearing is concerned. The honored gentlemen from the Martian delegation, Senator Viraj Apte, the floor is now yours.”
“Thank you, Senator Fitzpatrick, Second Lieutenant John Lief I do believe this begins with you.”
John pressed the microphone button, “Third Lieutenant Senator. The notice of promotion was that I been reviewed and passed the requirements, but the actual promotion doesn’t become effective until November.”
“Apologies Lieutenant, would you please give your curriculum vitae to the hearing members?”
“I graduated high school when I was eleven. I took a test that was incorrectly administered to me that was to help Naval Intelligence identify skilled individuals. They didn’t realize the mistake until then twelve-year-old me took the physical and psych tests. Barely passed the physical one but I was turned into a desk jockey for Naval Intelligence for three and half years or so. I was an agent for two and half years. When I turned eighteen, I expressed a desire to become an officer, and I was sent to the Naval Academy. I graduated summa cum laude and top of my class last year. Rather surprisingly I was made a lieutenant off the cuff, I didn’t expect that but that sped my career up by one to two years or so. The CNS Des Moines was my first assignment after receiving my commission.”
Viraj nodded as John took spoke, “How was your deployment?”
“In a word, eventful,” John said plainly which caused some stifled laughter in the gallery.
The senator tried very hard to conceal the grin on his face but managed to do so with minimal effort, “Lieutenant, I speak on behalf of all the committee members here that we’d appreciate more insight and details to our questions.”
“Understood, though the answer still applies. Our entire fleet had its cores calibrated incorrectly at St. Mary’s thus ruining our stealthy capabilities. We made field repairs that didn’t succeed but did eventually come to a patchwork solution to regain the ability to sneak into systems sight unseen. On the Des Moines, we were busy with drills and simulation work. Then there was the ultimately futile attack that resulted in the effective loss of twelve hulls and nearly three thousand lives. While this wasn’t planned at all, the attack exposed us to what we believe is an Alliance planetary salting weapon, which made it even more urgent for us to find someone way to navigate our crippled vessel home to safety.”
“Would you say that the ends justified the means in this attack?” Senator Fitzpatrick asked.
John thought about the question for a moment then shook his head, “Hindsight is the ability to look at things in the past with the benefit of perfect acuity. The most simplistic rendition of events was that Commander Kory Shephard ordered an attack on an enemy fleet. His command was in direct violation of our standing orders, which to paraphrase was to scan and observe. Our ships were not designed to be front-line fighters.”
“But some good did come of it, yes?” the Senator asked.
“I doubt very much the family members of the deceased would agree with that statement. Nor would fleet command approve of such a flagrant violation of orders. Despite that, purely from a tactical standpoint, the battle was successful in exposing the Alliance’s duplicity and weapons of mass destruction. I’m not however convinced that the ends justified the means in this case. And that’s ignoring the enormous tactical disadvantages we suffered in that attack.”
Senator Alyssa Fett then spoke up, “Lieutenant, you’ve killed for the Confederated Planets have you not?”
John turned slightly to face the young senator and looked her square in the eyes and answered simply, “I have.”
“Did you enjoy murdering people?”
John gave her a puzzled look, “No, of course not. But that’s a rather curious question as I’ve never murdered anyone.”
“You just said you’ve killed for your country,” the senator spat back.
“True, but killing someone is radically different than murdering someone,” John was looking at his data slate, “You of course would know the legal definition between the two as you were a practicing defense attorney prior to being elected.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“Senator Fett, what are you trying to get at?” Senator Fitzpatrick sounded annoyed as he asked the question.
“Senator Fitzpatrick, a little leeway is requested.”
Fitzpatrick nodded but was clearly unmoved by her request. Alyssa was fumbling with a pair of data slates. She set one down and scrolled around on the other one.
“How many people would you say you killed during your time at the academy.”
“The number is likely in the thousands,” John responded instantly and without emotion.
“Thousands?”
“There was the Alliance sneak attack during my senior year at the academy. They brought a battleship and a carrier. We destroyed both of the big ships. This attack no doubt killed most of the crew on the battleship, if not the entire crew.”
Senator Fitzpatrick smiled at the astute way John shut that line of questioning, “On that note Lieutenant. Why did your attack, in much smaller vessels, succeed where the attack in Lambda Bootis failed?”
“Luck had a hell of a lot to do with it, but we also had friendly vessels that were tanking the attack for us. Plus, the corvettes we were in were brand new models too. They actually had more missiles and torpedoes than we did onboard the Des Moines. We also launched all of our missiles and used that as an initial alpha strike. That isn’t something you’d generally want to do normally. The more important reason though is the ships we were fighting were radically different. The battleship we fought in Sol was a much older design and had armor that even our ships could penetrate after missile and torpedo fire from the friendly cruisers laid into it.”
Senator Chester Olson, a retired Admiral representing Alpha Centauri, “Lieutenant, would it be fair to say that you made mistakes leading up to the attack?”
“Yes, but sir, you may want to be more specific on what areas I made mistakes,” John answered before taking a drink of water.
The senator smiled and then began asking a more detailed question, “I would like to state for the record that I don’t believe the Lieutenant would have been successful in removing Commander Shephard from the captain’s seat. What I’d like to know is why there was a mutiny onboard?”
John took a deep breath and spoke, “I wouldn’t call it that sir, though I’d be remiss if I didn’t say it dangerously got close to that. Ultimately it came down to a difference of opinion and certain crewmembers not knowing how the Alliance treats prisoners of war.”
“Just for the record, how do they handle them?”
“When they do, which is rare, you likely have a five-to-ten-year term of hard labor before you might be released. More often than not they just use the escape pods as target practice.”
“A fact that has repeated more times than I’d care to count. This is a matter our government has utterly failed its citizens and our soldiers. What was the result of this incident?”
“One officer was remanded to the brig for the remainder of our travels. They were led off the Des Moines in shackles. Twelve more people had sided with this officer. Four of them showed honest contrition, I removed the disciplinary actions against them. A note has been made on their records but otherwise, I believe there is hope for redemption with them. The officer and the other eight are facing bad conduct discharges if I’m not mistaken.”
Senator Fitzpatrick took the floor once more, “Lieutenant, is it true that you put yourself up for disciplinary review.”
“It is,” John once more answered the question quickly and definitively,
“What for?”
“During our second slip jump, I decided to change our destination. Again, in hindsight, it was absolutely the right decision, but in the moment, it was observed as a somewhat capricious act and not fitting with the consistency of orders that I had been giving up to that point. I also thought it was appropriate for me to be held accountable for abandoning my post, inviting myself onto the bridge, and the general tone of the last conversation with my captain.”
“In other words, you feel guilty for your actions,” Senator Linton Kilpatrick interjected.
“It was not guilt, but rather duty Senator. When mistakes are made, we must own them, for good or ill.”
Senator Olson smiled, “What were the results of your disciplinary recommendations?”
“The jump incident was determined to not have violated any of our internal rules. Plus, the fact that it was ultimately the right decision made that recommendation a bit moot. I received a written warning on insubordination, though the severity of the warning was lessened because the captain was already violating our standing orders.”
Senator Dexter Nitty then asked a question, “Is it true that you listened to Commander Shephard and the other senior officers’ personal logs?”
John turned and looked at the man, “I didn’t listen to all of their logs, but specific ones listened to that could aid in my report. It was a necessary evil to do so to complete my after-action report on the attack.”
“How did you only listen to specific and pertinent ones? No one is lucky enough to only listen to just the right logs.”
John nodded, “Your assumption would be correct, sir. I too believe that it would be next to impossible to have only listened to the important logs. My VI ran a text analytics program that I made years ago for a different investigation. The VI scanned the audio file, created a transcript of it, then did multiple parses of that transcript for certain phrases. Each parse would be more and more specific. It would then alert me to listen to such and such log, or it would purge the transcript data and then tell me there was nothing matching the parameters in the log.”
The senator then linked his data slate to the viewer and shared the log details of the Des Moines, “So the numbers here are the number of times the VI listened to the logs?”
“Not on that slide no, sir. Go to page three-hundred-twenty-three. The number of times the VI opened and scanned the log is in Exhibit 4A in the upper left corner of the page. The next page after that has a list of all logs I listened to.”
Dexter flicked the file over to the next page. Sure enough, everything John had said was there. Another flick of the finger displayed the calls John had listened to. Dexter looked at John with inquisitive eyes.
Senator Fitzpatrick spoke up though, “That’s an interesting parlor trick. How did you do that?”
“It is no trick,” John shrugged, “I have an eidetic memory. I read the final report shortly after it was made available to you all.”
The Karen-senator of the group, Alyssa Fett, then jumped back into the conversation, “Then you remember everything that happened when you killed someone.”
John nodded casually, “Not only when I may or may not have killed anyone. I remember what I was wearing, how the clothes felt on my skin, temperature, humidity, smells, obviously my surroundings, the sensory details about my environment, and everyone around me. Everything is remembered in perfect detail, and I have the ability to recall everything that I’ve seen.”
“Would you be able to recall what you felt like when you killed the most people at one time?” Senator Olson asked with a grin.
The crowd gasped. John’s stoic demeanor washed away for but a moment. The retired admiral knew damn well what he was asking.
“Yes sir. I was wearing a void sheathe and sitting in the captain’s chair of a corvette. The air was stale and the humidity within my suit was uncomfortably low. The button I pressed on the captain’s chair was a bit mushy, though I believe that to be because of the sheathe.”
“I don’t follow, what does that mean?” Senator Fett was clearly confused at the incomprehensible answer.
“Standard operation on a corvette is to wear void sheathes with helmets on during combat operations. Losing atmosphere in a small ship is bad for one’s health,” John wore a shit-eating grin on his face, “The button felt mushy because I was depressing it through a glove. The button enabled me to tell the fleet to launch all of our missiles in a massive salvo. Though to be fair, I don’t know how many people were actually on the carrier, I am running on the assumption it was near capacity.”
“If you slid a knife into someone or snapped their neck, you’d remember it with perfect clarity?” Senator Fitzpatrick.
“Were either of those things to have occurred, then yes, I would remember the incidents with perfect clarity. I can also tell you how it felt in excruciating detail when I have been shot, stabbed, slashed across my back, or how the umbilical that whipped a few years ago felt. Though that information isn’t exactly relevant to this hearing, is it?” John flashed a small grin to the lead senator.
Senator Olson leaned forward and pressed his microphone button, “What is your final assessment of the attack?”
John frowned for a moment and refrained from answering the question as he thought it through, “I wish I had definitive proof for the simple question, ‘Why did this all happen?’ but I haven’t seen anything that would clarify that for me. I have a lot of assumptions about what was motivating the commander, but it’d be inappropriate to share them without evidence to back it up. Every time I sit down to play back things I have more and more questions. I don’t like that it happened, nor did I appreciate the situation that the crew and I were thrust into. Someone was watching over us that day and beyond.”
“Was it possible to destroy the battleship and leave the system?” Senator Fitzpatrick asked.
“No sir. Just about any other battleship type likely would have been destroyed, but that one was just overbuilt and simply had far too much armor for our weapons to penetrate. We reached about as much damage as was reasonably expected. More damage obviously could have been done, but it would only result in more superficial damage.”
Senator Aaron Garin then asked, “How is it that your ship didn’t blow up?”
“Our chief engineer, Lieutenant Deniz Aydin shut the engine down just in time. Had it still been active I don’t believe the Des Moines would have survived?”
The questioning continued for another two hours before being adjourned. Aside from the one Karen-like senator, it was generally pretty easy. No real hard-hitting questions were asked of John, in fact, he was informed that he wouldn’t need to answer questions that afternoon.
As everyone began cleaning up at the tables John just slid back in his seat and took a deep breath. Brook noticed that and smiled. She slapped John’s shoulder to get his attention.
“I hate to break it to you big guy, but that was the easiest their going to go on you. Some of them are on your side but most were just feeling you out to see how you’d react.”
“Bloody brilliant job including the deaths caused by the counterattack. They can’t paint you as a homicidal maniac now,” Julia was smiling from ear to ear.
“Am I free to bounce or do I have to sit here?” John said as he moved his chair to face Brook.
“We’re going back to the house, but you’re not free. We’ve got more work to do.”
John said quietly, “Oh yay.”