“I take it you did not agree with your security chief’s opinion,” Tsusumu said, a most scrutable smile on his face.
“No, sir. We were committing our Marines to a situation that, despite our best efforts, was still totally unknown to us. I borrowed a Ground Assault Craft from the Greenfeld fleet and proceeded to do my own recon. For what it is worth, the mining site only opened up with its huge firepower when I made a low pass over it. If they hadn’t opened up until our Marines were on final approach, it would have been a massacre. Even Jack has come to agree with me on that.”
In the front row, Jack sadly nodded.
The court was very silent.
“What happened next, after the aliens opened fire?” Tsusumu asked.
“My craft was damaged. I began exiting the area as fast as I could, applying all the evasive actions this girl has learned in her short life.” Chuckles from the courtroom were not enough to get the Chief Justice reaching for his gavel. “The aliens also launched rocket and laser attacks on the ships in orbit. They had more firepower hidden in that mining site than any of us would have guessed. They also began deploying several battalion-size ground-fighting units. Jack and I noticed all that as we were dodging more fire.”
Kris took a deep breath and tried to slow her heartbeat. She was flashing back.
“Somewhere in all this, Admiral Krätz decided to lase the mining site from his high orbit. My hog was barely holding together, and the blowback from lasers that close would very likely destroy it, so I pancaked into a marsh area, and Jack and I beat as quick a retreat as our injuries allowed. Fortunately, my Marines had left behind a small detachment that retrieved us before the aliens arrived. For a while there, it looked like I might get my chance to talk to them as their prisoner, rather than them as mine. Assuming they took prisoners. From the looks of things both before and after that action, I don’t think they do.”
“One final question. Commander, did you declare war on the aliens?”
Kris and Tsusumu had spent several long hours debating the fine points of international law before he had announced himself ready to ask Kris this question. Now Kris took a deep breath.
“As an individual, I cannot start a war. However, it’s true that as an individual I can take an action that results in two sovereign entities launching themselves into a war. It’s happened too many times in history to count. However, it takes two sovereigns to go to war. There have been situations where one sovereign chose war, and the other side didn’t get the word for a while. I believe that this is what I encountered.”
Kris risked taking a breath. Someone should have, likely, objected to her using the witness stand to philosophize.
No one did. Kris went on.
“It is my conclusion, from my contacts with these alien space raiders, that they are at war with all life in the universe that is not of their own gene pool. Had they stumbled upon Earth five hundred years ago, they would have plundered and murdered us before we got into space. Had they found the Iteeche two thousand years ago, they would have done the same. For some reason, they haven’t been out in this arm of the galaxy for a while.
“That’s changing. When the Wasp found itself bone-dry on fuel and in a minor system in the Iteeche Empire, our refueling was interrupted when an alien scout ship shot into the system. We tried to establish communications with them, and they shot up the message buoy. We destroyed them after that, recovering only two tiny infants that a couple had desperately tried to save. I imagine they’ve been misfiled by now, too.”
Surprisingly, the prosecution had no questions for Kris, and she soon found herself dismissed.
Jack and Penny were quickly run through the witness stand. They vouched that the recordings provided by their computers were as true and accurate as they could remember. Their computers followed their mother’s lead in refusing to submit to examination by the court’s experts, and one judge whispered that he doubted any of the court’s experts was up to examining the likes of these computers.
That did get him a rap of the gavel.
Abby returned in time to be quickly sworn and questioned. It was Cara who seemed to get the most questioning. By now, her record had been given an initial examination. At the critical part of the discussion between Kris and the admirals, Cara had been ordering a chocolate sundae with three cherries on top. She’d also been playing a game that covered over the recording, but not enough that the background could not be accessed perfectly.
Several of the judges seemed to find her disinterest in the history taking place around her a source of more verity than Kris’s direct recording.
“Why were you on the Wasp?” one judge asked as the questioning drew down.
“My auntie was there, and I liked the people on the Wasp,” Cara said, then seemed to deflate a bit. “And there’s nowhere else for me. My mom and gamma are dead. If Auntie Abby and Auntie Kris didn’t take me in, where would I go?”
The prosecutor did not cross-examine the girl.
“Is the defense prepared to rest?” the Chief Justice asked.
“Ah, just a moment, Your Honor.”
There was a flurry of activity at the courtroom’s doorway. One of the senior associates almost ran back to meet the young woman who had called Kris from the restroom the first day . . . and another young woman in a Navy uniform.
“The defense wishes to call one last witness. The one we advised the court we would call if we could. Will Ishii Yuko please come into court?”
The gavel came out as the room lost its hush, and people speculated on this surprise.
The woman was quickly sworn, and Mr. Kawaguchi asked the usual question. “Could you please state your name and position.”
“I am Ishii Yuko. I was a Petty Officer third class Communication Technician on His Imperial Majesty’s ship Haruna when she sailed on the voyage of discovery. I was the last to leave the ship.”
All silence fled as talk thundered through the room. The Chief Justice’s hammering gavel was ignored until he threatened to empty the gallery. Even then, it took a while for the room to quiet enough for Mr. Kawaguchi to continue.
54
“Your Honor,” Mr. Kawaguchi said, “I would like to offer into evidence a list of the crew of Haruna when she sailed for Wardhaven. It has Miss Ishii’s name on it. I also have a copy of her orders that allowed her to return from the Fleet of Discovery to Musashi. In case there is any doubt that she is who she says she is, we have made an active copy of her Ident.”
“The bailiff will accept them,” the Chief Justice said.
Tsusumu turned back to his witness. “Petty Officer Ishii, could you tell the court where you have been since returning to Musashi?”
“I was terribly embarrassed when I returned. The Navy had no assignment for me, so I returned to my parents’ home. Being with child and not with a husband, I was ashamed and spent my days in my room.”
Kris strongly suspected thoughts of suicide must have kept her company. Poor girl.
“Then why have you now come forward?” Tsusumu asked.
“Last night, my brother brought me his computer and showed me all of the horrible things that were being said about Admiral Kota and Princess Kristine. I watched her testimony this morning and knew that I had to act for the admiral’s and the princess’s good names.”
“How could you act? You are just a junior petty officer.”
“But I was on duty in Haruna’s communication center when the admirals met on net to discuss the situation. Our watch officer ran the conference on a large screen for all of us to see. He often did that. It was he who realized, I think just as quickly as Princess Kris, that the different reports from the returning scouts pointed all to the same thing. He called the admiral’s bridge to alert them. We all watched, as much as our duties allowed, as the battle plan was developed.”