Surefoot 82: Persona Non Grata

"Don't put Bill's trial at risk by being caught disobeying orders and interfering. Don't even ask me about it."

He sipped his drink. "What makes you think I'd do something like that, Sweetheart?"

She grunted, reaching out and retrieving his PADD, examining it and frowning. "Performance Reviews?"

He drank again. "Yes, I'm catching up with them. You know I have to deal not only with the station personnel, but the Captains of all the Sabres. And while we're on the subject, I wanted to bring up the idea of recruiting more civilian Counselors to help with the crews-"

"You're actually doing work?" she asked incredulously. "Not poking your snout into the trial and how Sasha and Bill are doing?"

"I was ordered to stay out of it."

She set down the PADD again. "And since when has that ever stopped you?"

He finished his beer and sighed. "Since I had to accept that you were right, and I can't be Papa Cat to all the cadets for the rest of their lives. And that Sasha is old enough not to need me fighting her battles." Now he set aside his glass. "Without giving away any nasty and terrible legal secrets... how is she holding up?"

Kami dropped her reproving glare to offer a more sympathetic, "She's doing well, actually, though I think she'd rather be charging against a Pride of Kzinti with a sword rather than arguing with Louvois and Maraud. She has a new strategy, one that Bill and the rest of us agree upon. It's ballsy... but then that's your daughter."

"And Bill?"

Her expression sobered more. "He needs further Counseling. The accumulated trauma of the War, the incident at Kalandra, the POW camp, becoming a fugitive, the court martial-"

"If he's that bad, then why aren't you declaring him unfit to stand trial?"

"Because he's not that bad, and despite our more enlightened age some people still downplay how much our mental health state can affect us. The fact that all this occurred 18 months ago doesn't help-"

She stopped as she saw his face. "You need a break. You need to get away from here for a while and avoid the temptation to interfere. And your son needs some Quality Time with his Papa for his upcoming birthday."

He looked up at her. "You're serious?"

"Yes. Sasha's flyer is still sitting unused in the Shuttlebay of the Katana, I know she won't mind you borrowing it - as long as you and Misha don't go in her cabin and uncover Mother Knows What." She walked around the table and joined him on the couch, curling up against her husband, letting them take in each other's scents more closely, as her voice dropped to a more confidential tone, "And we both know you have things to get off your chest and tell Misha while he's still this age."

He reached out and stroked her mane. "Are you sure you'll be okay here without both of us for a day or two?"

"I'll be busy with the court martial and supporting Sasha. And I'll get to have some Quality Time with Sreen; there's a few things I want to check on with her. Go in the morning." She began purring. "Now, come to bed for a while, Cuddlemonkey."

*

Sternhagen stood in Ops, in a position that gave her a clear view of the lifts, expecting the inevitable arrival-

One opened, just in time to see Zir and Lt Arik part from an embrace and straighten themselves out before emerging, the Communications Officer moving to his own station, and Zir drawing up to Sternhagen. "Captain, something's wrong."

The human looked at her, resisting the urge to comment on the obvious relationship between the Orion and the Bajoran. "Yeah, I don't see any croissants on you."

"No, I mean the Commodore's missing!"

"He's not missing, he's off the station, gone on a trip with his son. They'll be back in a day or two."

Zir's olive skin darkened. "B-But he didn't let me know he was going!"

"Yeah, that's one of the advantages to being the Commanding Officer, he doesn't have to explain himself to any of us. I'll be covering for him in the meantime, for anything that doesn't need Commodore's pips or a fat furry ass. Now, what does he have scheduled?"

Zir frowned in thought to herself. "Well, he had outstanding Performance Reviews, but I can file requests for extensions to the deadline on them. Then there's the Security briefing with Captain Blum at 1300 Hours, the subspace channel meeting with Starfleet Logistics at 1400 Hours, and then there's the inspection tour of the Drydock Support Deck to confirm the Shiprot infection on the Katana has been cleared, and then-"

Sternhagen guided her towards Hrelle's office, patting her on the shoulder. "You get everything ready, and I'll be along shortly... and don't forget about those croissants, either..."

*

"Hey, Sleepyhead!"

Misha stirred in the darkness, smelling strange scents, feeling the bed shift. Was the station under attack? He threw off the covers on top of him and rose up from an unfamiliar bed, confused, his vision allowing him to adjust quickly to the darkness. "Papa?"

"Come on!" urged the familiar voice.

"Lights," he told the computer, blinking as he found himself in a stark quarters like on a starship, and moved to the door, peering out as the door slid aside. "Papa?"

Then he recognised his surroundings: he was on Sasha's flyer, the Tailless! Why?

"Misha? Where are you?"

He stepped out, looking down the main corridor towards the cockpit, seeing the dilated tunnel of warp space - and rushed up. "What's wrong, Papa?"

Papa was sitting there in the pilot's seat, working the controls and smiling at him. "Nothing's wrong, my Warrior Prince. You wanted an Adventure for your birthday, just you and me... well, you're gonna get one!"

Misha's jaw dropped in disbelief, and he stared ahead. "What are we gonna do, Papa?"

"Well, I'm gonna teach you some basic flight moves using the joystick, show you how to navigate to places, send probes-"

"Can we fire phasers?" he asked, his eyes lighting up.

Papa looked reluctant now. "We'll see. And there'll be games and movies and talk. But first, a good, big breakfast - anything you want. After all, we males need to keep our strength up, right?"

Misha felt like he was going to burst with joy, and he leapt up into his Papa's lap to hug him.

*

Sasha thought she had been ready. Not physically; she had barely slept or eaten, worrying Mori silly, despite her assurances. But she thought she had at least been mentally ready, bringing Bill a breakfast and dress uniform, and a final briefing on the course she would be taking the proceedings. She'd almost convinced herself.

Then they entered the Courtroom: a domed enclosure in an extension to the main body of the station, laid out like a theatre, dominated by the Judges' Table, where Louvois sat, flanked by Captains Weynik and Godleski, even as the Judges' Table was flanked by the Prosecution and Defence tables.

But her attention was drawn to the semi-circle of tiers facing the Tables, and the spectators that filled up every seat, sitting there like it was some sort of entertainment, and the recording devices over the guarded doorways.

She sat Beaudine down and approached the Captains. "Excuse me, but is it necessary to have an audience for this?"

Louvois gave her a smug look. "Yes, as a matter of fact, Lieutenant Commander; there is a need for transparency. Starfleet needs to see justice done."

"I must also question the redacted nature of the evidence provided. Without full disclosure-"

Louvois raised a hand now to cut her off, "I've been told that Mr Maraud has already made the situation regarding the classified status of the evidence quite clear to you. Drop it."

Beside her, Weynik looked up at his First Officer. "I don't like it either, Sasha, but it's out of our hands."

"Captain Weynik," Louvois interrupted, "Please don't address the Defence Counsel except during the legal proceedings." She focused on Sasha again. "Now, would you mind returning to your place? And while you're at it, remembering your place?"

Sasha stiffened. "Yes, Your Honour." Once she did, eyeing Lt Cmdr Maraud along the way at his own table, she leaned in close to Beaudine, murmuring, "You sure about this, Bill?"

He nodded. "I trust you, Sash."

She breathed in. Oy Vey...

There was the sound of an old-fashioned military bell, rung four times in succession, as everyone present but the judges rose, and Louvois addressed them. "This court is now in session. I am Captain Phillipa Louvois, and I will be acting as Chief Judge and President of the Court. I have appointed as members of this Court Captains Weynik and Sonia Godleski, Lt Cmdr Xan Maraud as Prosecuting Counsel, and Lt Cmdr Sasha Hrelle as Defence Counsel. Ensign Beaudine, I direct your attention to the fact that you have the right to ask for substitute officers if you feel any of these names harbour any prejudiced attitudes to your case."

Beaudine swallowed as he stood there, visibly struggling to remain at attention as he replied, "I have no objections, Ma'am."

"Very well. Ensign William Beaudine, you have been charged with the following violations of the Starfleet Code of Military Justice: five counts of Negligent Homicide under Article 134; one count of Cowardly Conduct under Article 99; one count of Failure to Obey an Order under Article 92; one count of Conduct Unbecoming an Officer under Article 133; one count of Wrongful Appropriation of a Starfleet Vehicle under Article 121; and one count of Being Absent Without Leave under Article 86.

Specifically, that on Stardate 52636.13, during a military engagement on Kalandra VII, you willfully deserted your post in a Starfleet shuttlecraft, disobeying the orders of your superior officer Lt Emil Lincarnos to assist, and that as a result of your actions, five of your fellow members of Starfleet - Lt Lincarnos, Science Crewman Belle Rosen, Security Crewman Dinat Arvan, Security Crewman Otaktay, and Engineering Crewman Susan Shelby - unlawfully died. What is your plea?"

Beaudine looked to Sasha, who answered, "Not Guilty."

The room seemed to hold its breath. Sasha resisted the urge to look at the audience behind her, instead focusing on the three Captains before her, as Louvois frowned and asked, "Excuse me?"

Sasha cleared her throat, reinforcing more loudly, "Not Guilty, Your Honour."

"To which charge?"

"All of them."

Now the room erupted in a flurry of noise, until Louvois banged her gavel. "Both counsels will approach."

Sasha stepped around again to comply, joined with a bemused-looking Maraud, Sasha noting the equal confusion from the flanking Captains as Louvois focused on her and asked, "What do you think you're doing, Ms Hrelle?"

"You asked for my client's plea, Your Honour. I provided it."

Maraud turned to face her, his expression incredulous. "Did you miss the part in the Indictment records where he freely provided a Statement to me on the Minotaur? He admitted his guilt! You're supposed to confirm it, that and nothing more! All we're doing today is just a formality!"

Sasha faced him back. "To you, perhaps. But any Statement my client might have made to you at the Indictment is not admissible, as you didn't follow correct legal procedures."

The Efrosian's tangerine skin darkened even as his white irises flared. "You'd better be prepared to explain that."

Sasha remained unintimidated. "I am. According to Article 39A, Section 1.2 of the SCMJ, before a Statement can be legally accepted, the accused must first be formally declared physically and psychologically sound by a fully-qualified Medical Officer and Counselor."

"He was! By Doctor Richard Kimble, the CMO of the Minotaur!"

She shook her head. "I checked Dr Kimble's records. He has Chief Medical Officer qualifications, of course, and basic Counseling training for emergency purposes - but no full Counselor qualifications. His status, or rather lack of it, was confirmed for me by this station's Chief Counselor, Commander Kami Hrelle."

Maraud started, before lifting up the legal PADD in his hand and almost frantically accessing its contents to obviously check for himself, while Louvois watched him, her face incredulous and her voice slow and deliberate. "Mr Maraud? Is this true?"

The young JAG officer stared hard at the PADD, swallowing visibly as he reluctantly looked up again, not quite meeting anyone's expectant gaze. "There does appear to be a slight discrepancy in the initial background processing of the Indictment, Your Honour." He faced Sasha again. "He was cleared yesterday by Counselor Hrelle."

She crossed her arms. "Which would be fine, had you waited until you arrived here and had him cleared by her before conducting and filing the Indictment."

Louvois turned back to Sasha. "Well spotted, Ms Hrelle; one would think you'd spent all your time at the Academy studying Law instead of Mr Maraud here. And there you were in my office, claiming you weren't suitable for this task. False modesty on your part?"

"No, Captain," Weynik answered for his First Officer, looking up at Sasha with pride. "Genuine modesty. She surprises everyone around her with her potential, including herself."

Louvois made a sound, still fixed on Sasha before proceeding with, "And so can we assume that you will continue to surprise everyone around you, by providing us with a cogent reason behind the collective plea of Not Guilty?"

Sasha raised her chin. Here goes everything... "Yes, Your Honour. The charges raised against my client are directly based on his alleged 'willful' actions. I intend to demonstrate that his actions were not by definition willful, but in fact were the result of extenuating circumstances which affected his judgement... factors caused by negligence."

"Negligence? From whom?"

"From Starfleet."

The room erupted again.

Louvois glowered, banging her gavel again until the Courtroom quieted down once more. "Lieutenant Commander Hrelle, I want to see you alone in my office, right now."

She started to rise from her chair, but Sasha responded, "I must respectfully decline, Your Honour. Article 39A, Section 14.1 restricts private communications between any Judge and any active member of a legal proceeding following the commencement of-"

"I will not be lectured on the law by the likes of you!"

Godleski looked up at her. "Do you need a break, Captain? Given that there's an audience here?"

"An audience you insisted on?" Weynik reminded her.

Louvois flared her nostrils, visibly calming herself down before finally responding. "Lt Cmdr Maraud, given this unexpected turn of events, do you require time to prepare?"

The Efrosian glared at Sasha, even as he answered Louvois. "No, Your Honour. I can handle anything the Defence can throw at me."

"You might also want to keep a copy of the SCMJ Articles handy as well," Weynik quipped. "You seem a little rusty in that department."

Maraud winced, before returning to his table.

"As for you, Ms Hrelle," Louvois added, focusing on Sasha, her expression recriminating, "I'm warning you, here and now: if this is some showboat play on your part to impress your father, then your friend will suffer for it when sentencing is passed on him. Is that understood?"

Sasha paused. Before now, there had been a part of her that doubted whether or not this was the right course for Bill... and yes, herself. Maybe she should have ignored the discrepancy she had found in Maraud's approach, should have gone with the flow and plea bargained a lesser sentence for him.

Now, however, Louvois' words helped phaser that doubt out of existence. "Your Honour, I'm here for one reason alone: to advocate on behalf of my client to the best of my ability. Now, may I please proceed?"

*

In the Cadets' Lounge several decks above, forty or fifty cadets were sitting or standing watching the main viewscreen, the usual musical concert or sporting event replaced by the Courtroom proceedings.

Collected together in one corner, Macbeth Squad stood, drinks, snacks or PADDs in hand, watching with varying levels of interest. Engineering Cadet Gela, a squat Ferengi male, tapped furiously on his PADD. "The odds of Lt Cmdr Hrelle winning the case have just shot up to 100 to 1!"

Beside him, Science Cadet Hesh C'Rirr, a mahogany-furred Caitian male, slapped the back of Gela's head. "What were you told about trying to run another gambling operation?"

"First of all, Ouch! Second of all, this is not gambling! This is just a collective exercise in probability mechanics among us more academically-minded intellects!"

"Involving credits," Medical Cadet Denek, a slim Vulcan female, noted, between drinks of orange juice.

"Only as an administrative fee- Ouch!" Gela bared his crooked yellow teeth at his friend... stopping when the Caitian bared his own gleaming fangs and growled.

"It's wrong all around," Command Cadet Rachel Nash, a petite, pale-skinned, red-haired Terran, declared. "This involves the life of a fellow member of Starfleet, someone not much older than us."

"A coward," Flight Ops Cadet Janusz Spychalski dismissed, looking to Gela. "Put me down for ten credits for the Prosecution."

"Done!"

"Janusz!" Nash chided. "Don't encourage him!"

"He does not appear to require much encouragement," Denek pointed out, peering over Gela's shoulder at the contents of his PADD. "Given the large number of bets - apologies, 'administrative fees' - he is now collecting from our fellow cadets."

"What do you think Lt Cmdr Hrelle means," C'Riir asked, staring up at the screen. "About negligence on Starfleet's part?"

"She must know something," Nash opined. "Something went wrong during the incident. She's an intelligent officer."

"She is unparalleled." This crisp critique came from the normally-laconic Security Cadet Ange Boladede, a bald, muscular Terran male of Nigerian descent, standing like a statue in front of them, his eyes fixed on the screen. "Magnificent."

Nash glanced at C'Riir, who gestured silently at the back of their colleague. She didn't believe it when the Caitian had approached her in confidence, his senses apparently suggesting to him that Boladede had some sort of infatuation with Lt Cmdr Hrelle, with whom they had served for a time on the Katana, and ended up in an engagement with the Kzinti. She didn't believe him at first; didn't Boladede and Hrelle spend half their time together trying to beat each other in combat training?

On the other hand, maybe it was Boladede's idea of flirting?

"It's an insult!"

All eyes turned to the nearby group, another sextet of cadets from Othello Squad, led by Command Cadet Shrys Th'kirat, an ever-scowling Andorian male with his azure skin darkened and his antenna pointed at the screen. "How dare she try to blame Starfleet for the perfidious actions of some gutless Flinch Pinkskin?"

"Hey!" Spychalski snapped. "That's racist!"

"And uncalled for," Nash followed angrily. "We don't know the full story about what happened!"

Beside Th'kirat, Othello Squad's Security Cadet Cirdo Melnetjhe, a burly-looking Bajoran male, stabbed a finger at the viewscreen, his wrinkled nose creasing further. "It's been in all the news since Beaudine's cowardice was discovered!"

"It is not logical to judge the events based on limited media accounts," Denek pointed out.

"It is obvious enough," Othello Squad's Engineering Cadet T'Ro, an unusually tall and gaunt olive-skinned Vulcan male, countered, "The audio logs of Ensign Beaudine's commanding officer repeatedly calling for him to save their wounded colleagues, and being ignored, have been verified."

Melnetjhe sneered. "Even your Ferengi wouldn't be stupid enough to bet on Beaudine being acquitted!"

Gela grunted, never looking up from his PADD. "True - and also, screw you."

C'Riir's tail twitched behind him as he aimed a claw at the Bajoran and bared his teeth. "Watch it, Mister! Nobody gets to insult my little buddy but me!"