“With time,” he said, hoping not to appear too eager to please. “There’s still so much we don’t know.”
“Then I suggest you get started,” Lorka said, tossing him the tricorder. “But rest assured, Earther, patience is not one of my husband’s numerous virtues. The moment he senses that you are attempting to deceive or misdirect us, or should you try to escape, you will die.”
42
Despite the sensation that the collar of his dress uniform was choking the life out of him, Reyes did not reach for it, did not move to run a finger between it and his neck. Instead, he remained fixed at his position of attention, staring straight ahead as the members of the court-martial board resumed their places on the bench. Out of the corner of his right eye, Reyes saw Desai and Sereb, both standing as well. Below the bench, Lieutenant T’Nir stood facing them, her expression implacable as usual.
The happy fun group.
Admiral Moratino and the trial board had spent nearly three days deliberating behind closed doors, and Reyes—with Desai’s help—had tried to take some comfort from the protracted waiting. According to her, it was a good sign, indicating that the board did not view the charges against Reyes and the actions he had taken as a simple matter of good or bad, right or wrong. As far as he knew, no Starfleet flag officer had ever stood trial on charges on this magnitude, not with ramifications such as those that might still come about as a result of the events that had occurred and that continued to unfold in the Taurus Reach. In Desai’s estimation, the members likely were proceeding with utmost care, perhaps aware of the historic nature of the ruling they would hand down and the precedent such a decision might set for the future.
Or it could mean that they just haven’t found the perfect deep, dark hole in which to bury me.
As the board members moved to stand before their seats, Reyes allowed his gaze to flicker to each face, trying to gauge any clue or hint from their expressions. None of the officers showed any outward signs of emotion, their features fixed and neutral as they awaited instructions from Moratino. Without being asked, Lieutenant T’Nir reached for the computer terminal next to her chair and activated the unit, once again recording the court proceedings.
“Commodore Reyes,” the admiral said after everyone was in the proper place and she had rung the ship’s bell to bring the courtroom to order, “the board has reached its verdict. Are you prepared to hear this decision?”
Here we go.
It had all come to this. The hours spent in earnest preparation, the cold, ruthless prosecution by Sereb and the equally impassioned defense mounted by Rana, the testimony Reyes himself had provided while on the witness stand, and now the trial board’s deliberations were past them. All that mattered now was how, or even if, Sereb or Desai had managed to influence the board with their arguments. Though Reyes had always fancied himself a good judge of people and their possible reactions to given situations, he had found himself powerless to produce even the slightest notion of which way the board might be leaning, and that was before they had secluded themselves for their private discussions.
Well, now’s your chance to find out,he mused, chastising himself. Get on with it, already.
Steeling himself, Reyes nodded. “I am, Your Honor.”
Without further delay or preamble, Moratino said, “On the charge of conspiracy, this court finds Commodore Reyes not guilty.”
Not really a surprise, Reyes knew. Of the charges against him, everyone had told him this was the one least likely to be upheld. Still, it was a moment’s relief actually to hear the decision spoken aloud. His plea of guilty to the charge of willful disobedience had already been entered and accepted. Reyes forced himself to stand rigid and still as he waited for the final charge and findings to be read.
Without even the slightest change in her tone or cadence, Moratino said, “On the charge and specifications of releasing classified information to unauthorized personnel, this court finds Commodore Reyes guilty as charged.”
There it was, the final, most damning charge against him, the one even Rana herself had expressed doubts about their ability to overcome. Despite all of his mental and emotional preparation, Moratino’s every word was like flame scorching his flesh. From his right, Reyes heard Desai’s subtle yet sharp intake of breath. His heart pounded in his chest, and blood rushed in his ears, and Reyes felt his knees begin to quiver. He locked them into place, refusing to present even the slightest sign of weakness or reaction. A glance out of the corner of his eye told him that Desai also was struggling to maintain her own bearing.
“Does the commodore wish to make any further statement before the court proceeds to sentencing?” Moratino asked.
What the hell am I supposed to say now?Only sheer force of will prevented Reyes from asking the question aloud. No, he decided. He had already taken full advantage of the opportunities afforded to him to speak on his own behalf. There was nothing more to be said and no need to delay the inevitable any longer.
Reyes shook his head. “I have no further statement, Your Honor.”
Relaxing her posture, Moratino said, “I do have something to say before sentence is read. Commodore Reyes, I’d like you to know that the questions presented to this court-martial were not easy ones to answer. We’ve dealt with issues typical and yet vital to the maintaining of proper discipline, order, and leadership that are hallmarks of Starfleet service. At the same time, we’ve addressed concerns about the very safety and security of the Federation, whose people and principles we all are sworn to honor and defend.
“While it would be easy to characterize this trial as a matter of addressing the simple unlawful actions of a single officer, to do so overlooks the larger issues that brought about those actions. Many of those issues are matters of a scope far greater than can be adequately addressed in this forum.
“However, we are left with certain moral absolutes, which we cannot dismiss and against which we can tolerate no willful disregard, especially when such action results in the alarming or disruption of the very people we are sworn to protect. Starfleet’s chain of command is in place for practical, time-tested reasons, as are its regulations and principles. Particularly now, when the Federation faces challenges and obstacles in regard to which its fate has yet to be determined, and with the very likely possibility of war with enemies to our way of life, those principles must be honored. No matter how well intentioned their actions might be, we cannot allow our officers—above all, officers of the rank and experience held by Commodore Reyes—to defy those principles. Likewise, such actions must be appropriately punished, as an example to all who wear our uniform and affirm the oaths we hold so dear.
“Commodore Diego Reyes,” Moratino said, her gaze now fixed on him, “it is the ruling of this court that, effective immediately, you are stripped of all rank as well as all allowances and privileges accorded to officers of flag rank. You will be permitted an appropriate time to put your personal affairs in order, after which you will be remanded to the Starfleet detention facility in Auckland, New Zealand, on Earth for a period of no less than ten years, with credit for time already spent in confinement as well as the transfer to Earth.”
The words rang in Reyes’s ears, pounded his skull, raked across his flesh. No amount of preparation or reflection, none of the nights he had lain awake pondering such possibilities, had been sufficient to offset the plain, blunt force of the judgment Moratino placed upon him. In the eyes of all lawful authority, he was a criminal, branded and stained for all time. Nothing he did from this point forward, no thought, word, or deed, would ever change this simple, harsh truth.