Last Measure of Devotion (TCOTU, Book 5) (This Corner of the Universe) (24 page)

“Captain
Heskan,” Clayton Covington’s earnest voice crackled over the courtroom
speakers, “can you promise us that whatever the outcome, you’ll conclude this
battle with honor… with corporate honor?”

Heskan
heard himself reply.  “This is about protecting your homes, soon to be my
home.  This is about sending a message to Wallace and all the other armchair
admirals that Seshafi won’t go gentle into that good night.”

Covington’s
next bold words rang throughout the large chamber.  “That’s honor, Karl.  Look
at his ship!  If he’s willing to press on, I’m willing to follow him.”

The
corner of the Judge
Bäcker’s
mouth
turned upward.  “Who was the first individual in that conversation, Counsel?” 
His expression appeared as if he already knew the answer.

Miller
smiled widely.  His words boomed with a mixture of authority and pride.  “That
was Sir Clayton Covington, son and heir to Archduke Joshua Covington.”

“Interesting
that a knight, and the archduke’s son at that, would call out the accused’s
actions as noble,” stated a magistrate next to the archjudge.

“Your
second example, Counsel?”
Bäcker requested.

Miller frantically reviewed the log on his
datapad.  After several moments, he nearly burst out laughing.  “Please play
the excerpt at
time
thirteen twenty-eight point fifty.”

Former
Commander Nguyen’s desperate words pleaded with Seshafi’s new fleet commander. 
“But, Captain, my section can’t withstand another pounding from their van.”

There
was the briefest moment of silence before Heskan’s determined response rang
through the room.  “It won’t have to, Commander.  All ships execute immediate
one hundred eighty degree rotation.  My section is now the van.”

As
soon as Heskan’s words had finished, Miller asked confidently from behind his
table, “Captain Heskan, what was the impact of that order?”

Heskan
looked grim as he recounted, “That order placed my rearguard, a section
comprised solely of snows and corvettes, against Sade’s vanguard, a section with
line ships and brigs.”

Miller
circled his table and asked loudly.  “What ship did you face specifically as a
result of your protection of the demolished Seshafian vanguard?”

“The
line ship, Courageux.”

“Please
remind the court what ship classification Elathra holds.”

“She
was a snow,” Heskan stated.

“Was?”
Judge
Bäcker questioned. 
“Clarify.”

“The
run against Courageux,” Heskan explained, “and the subsequent run against an
enemy brig resulted in the loss of my ship.”

“You,”
Miller stated dramatically, “a mere privateer at the time, placed your sole
means of livelihood against such incredible odds.  Why?”

Heskan
felt a lump rise in his throat.  Its effect made it difficult to speak.  “I
didn’t want those people to suffer.  Seshafi deserves a better fate than to
fall because of such treachery.  I may not have been a citizen but I was damned
if I could sit idly by and watch good people suffer.”

Miller
smiled delightedly at
Bäcker. 
“Your Honor?”

After a moment, Bäcker looked down at the woman
standing near Heskan.  “Defense counsel, your rebuttal?”

The woman shook her head in exasperation and whispered,
“Must be nice to have a judge making your arguments for you…”

Bäcker smiled in a manner only a grandfather
could.  His scathing retort belied the kind, soothing tone of his voice. 
“Counsel, I am old and this wig covers my ears so I believe I missed the bulk
of the last statement you will ever make to a magistrate.  Would you care to
repeat yourself?”

The woman in black flushed a deep red.  “Y-your
Honor, I’ve never even heard of
per
factis non verba
. 
I need more time to compile a proper response.”

Miller
nearly bounced with glee.  “Just because the defense has not deemed this
session worthy to send a functional representative, does this fact trump the
rights of the accused?”

“It
does not,” agreed the archjudge.

The
huntress stared pleadingly into the center judge’s eyes.  “You must give us
more time to properly mount a rebuttal, your Honor.”

The
archjudge shook her head.  “By your own request, I am forced into immediate
judgment, Counsel.  You have specifically pointed out that this court must
abide by its own directives.  State your response or forfeit it.”

The
woman in black scanned each of the judges with an imploring expression.  She
found no solace in any of them.

“Captain
Heskan,” Judge
Bäcker said,
breaking the interminable silence.  “Do you believe your actions were those of
a noble?”

Heskan knew the correct answer but struggled
anyway.  His eyes fell to the floor and he felt himself slowly shaking his
head.  “I… I didn’t do those things because I thought they were noble.  I just
did what any sailor would do for the people around him.”  Despite knowing she
was absent, he felt himself blush at his next words anyway.  “I did it for the
woman standing next to me in battle, and for all my comrades-in-arms.”  He
quickly added, “I did it for Commander Nguyen too, whose ship had already withstood
more than its fair share of punishment, but mostly, I did it because years from
now, I don’t want to look back at that critical moment in time and be ashamed
of who I was.”

Bäcker
replied immediately.  “By the power invested in me, by the power of the High
Court of Nessus, I dub thee,
Sir
Garrett Heskan.  Retroactive to the
time of demonstration, of course.”

Heskan
felt himself break out in gooseflesh. 
Sir?
 
I’m a knight?
 The
thought was as ludicrous as it was real.

“Defense
counsel,” the archjudge stated quietly, “your countersuit now appears to be
moot.”

The
dark inquisitor failed to answer and, instead, unleashed a hateful stare at
Heskan that raised even more gooseflesh over his arms.

“The
countersuit is dismissed.  Do you have any further questions for this witness?”

The
depth of malice within the defense counsel’s eyes made Heskan glad that it was
merely Wallace and not this shark in a business suit that he faced while aboard
Elathra
.  Finally, after an eternity of feeding upon Heskan’s soul, the
woman twisted from him and stalked back to her table in silence.

“You are dismissed,
Sir Garrett Heskan,” the archjudge said.  “This court is now in recess until
ten hundred hours.”

*  *  *

The
court bailiff escorted Heskan back to the witness holding room.  Waiting for
him were Miller and Vernay.  The twosome’s smiles threatened to rip the skin near
the corners of their mouths.

“Congratulations,
Sir
Garrett!” Vernay exclaimed with enthusiasm followed by a wince. 
Despite her joyous attitude, bloodshot eyes and pale skin betrayed her current
physical state.

Heskan
groaned.  “You caught all that?”

Vernay
mockingly waved her datapad in her right hand.  “For all posterity,” she
replied as she moved for the refuge of a nearby couch.

Heskan
rolled his eyes before addressing Miller.  “Thank goodness the Seshafian judge helped
bail us out.”

Miller’s
eyebrows furrowed questioningly.  “He wasn’t in the courtroom.  Both IaCom and
AmyraCorp magistrates have recused themselves.  That’s why there were only
eleven judges seated.”

The waiting room’s door kicked open, producing a
smiling Thomas Wilder.

Heskan
rocked back slightly at Miller’s news.  “Then who was that judge on the end?”

Miller’s
expression conveyed his confusion over the turn of events.  “That was Judge
Bäcker and I have no idea what got into
him.  He’s traditionally been a very critical judge to AmyraCorp’s lawsuits. 
All of Aurelios’ judges are, at every level of The Courts.”

“That judge is from the Aurelios system?”
Vernay asked from across the room.  She was leaning back on the couch, resting
her head on the soft, leather cushions.  Her right arm was draped over her
eyes, shielding them from the offending light.

Wilder nodded and answered, “Yes, and
Volkmancht-Kaufmännisch
harbors an intense dislike for us over
the freedoms we give our citizens.”  He shrugged. “Maybe that’s changing but I
haven’t the foggiest clue as to why.”

Heskan snorted lightly to himself as he thought
of Joachim Müller, the enigmatic engineer whose freighter had changed his
destiny.  “Me neither, unless Aurelios is a small world.”

“I
see the spring in your step has returned,” Heskan teased his companion as they climbed
the steps of the Madison Judicial Complex.

Vernay
offered a half smile next to him.  “I swear these stairs looked twice as steep two
days ago.”  She looked at the disc burning brightly above the massive structure
in the turquoise sky.  “And I thought Nessus’ sun had gone supernova.  Lesson
learned: respect Hollaran bourbon.”

“I
still can’t believe you came to watch my testimony,” Heskan remarked as they
walked toward the queue at the building’s entrance.  He was forced to accept
the longest line since he was carrying a briefcase that would require a manual
inspection.  The additional delay would be minor, though, because the security admissions
process had been perfected over decades.

“I
wasn’t going to miss it for all the worlds.”  She raised her datapad.  “I’m so
happy I made it.  Now, we have your dubbing ceremony recorded for all time.” 
Her smile twisted mischievously.  “Do you want to be addressed as Fleet
Commander, Captain or Sir when we’re in battle?  Or all three?”

Heskan
scowled at her as he dropped his briefcase onto a grav-belt and stepped through
the security rings.  “That’ll be enough, Commander.”

“Yes,
Captain, Sir Garrett Heskan, sir,” Vernay replied with a wicked grin.

“Remember
how shy you were around me on Anelace?” Heskan asked with inflated fond
remembrance.  He stepped past security and waited for his briefcase to be
returned to him.

Standing
at the threshold of the building, Heskan watched Vernay swipe her datapad over
the entrance panel.  She stepped inside the building proper and waited for him
to repeat the procedure.  As he stepped inside, an automated announcement
sounded throughout the grand foyer.  “Announcing, Sir Garrett Heskan.”

Heskan
brought a hand up to cover his eyes even as Vernay beamed at him.

“You
better get used to it, Garrett,” Vernay told him.  “All kidding aside, you know
that the archduke is going to promote you to admiral soon and that comes with
the baron title.”

The
pair walked down an enormous hall toward the central lifts.  The hallway was
easily twenty meters wide with ornate, marble statues towering ten meters over
them.  Each statue depicted a founder of the thirteen existing corporations. 
Heskan had to raise his voice to be audible, the marble interior of the space reflecting
every conversation inside it to create a cacophony of white noise.  “I’m never going
to get used to it.  I’m not royalty or nobility or whatever you call it.  It’s
ridiculous and I don’t even want it.  I’m just a sailor.”

Vernay
stepped closer to him once they reached a bank of elevators.  She leaned into
him and rose to her toes in a bid to reach his ear.  “I know that, Garrett,”
she said in a lowered tone, “but these people take their peerage very
seriously.  It might not matter to you but it matters to them.  A lot.  Don’t
disrespect them by belittling what they consider a great honor.  Think of it as
a Brevic medal.”  She soured momentarily before adding, “Well, one that you’d
want.”

Heskan
examined the woman close to him. 
She’s right, of course.
  “How’d you
get so wise?”

“Good
mentors.”

“Well,
I still don’t care for the pageantry and this city is too large for me.  I
can’t wait to be home.”  The statement surprised him. 
Home.  I just called
Seshafi my home.

“How’s
your house coming?” Vernay asked.

“Should
be complete or nearly so by the time we get back.  I could, in theory, move in,
unless they’ve run into more trouble.”  He smirked.  “The price tag for that
pool was an unpleasant surprise.”

“The
sauna will be cheaper,” Vernay informed him casually.

Heskan
snorted but then glared at her.  “What sauna?”

“Captain!”
Clayton Covington’s friendly voice carried down the stone hallway.  Heskan saw
the young heir and Commander Joseph Tannault walking quickly toward them.  As they
neared, Covington smiled widely while praising, “Congratulations on your titling,
Captain.  I cannot think of a finer example of today’s chevalier than you, Sir
Garrett.”  Tannault dipped his head next to Covington in acknowledgment.

“Please,”
Heskan said while waving his hand, “it’s no big deal.”  After a moment’s consideration,
he added, “But it is certainly appreciated and I’m honored.  As I understand
it, we share the same status so I hope we can skip the formality, Clayton. 
More than anything, I just want to make sure we get underway as soon as we’ve
heard the ruling.  I’ve had my fill of Nessus.”

Covington
glanced downward to his datapad.  “We’re scheduled to cast off in two and a
half hours, Captain.  We currently have twenty-four crewmen and passengers
outstanding.”  His datapad chimed quietly.  “Captain Nguyen just boarded.  Twenty-three
outstanding now.  If they all arrive early, I’ll order us to break the moorings
as soon as we can.”

“How’s
Hawk?” Vernay asked.

Covington
tapped quickly at the datapad as the door to the nearest lift retracted.  “As
good as she can be, ma’am.  I’m flashing you her latest status report.  We’ll
easily make it home but I certainly want to avoid combat.  The problem is if we
choose an alternate course home, we add eighteen days to our voyage at the
minimum.”

“Better
safe than sorry,” Tannault advised while entering the lift.

The
trip to the main courtroom was short.  The media presence outside the chamber was
triple the coverage that Heskan had encountered the day he testified. 
Covington and Tannault bid their farewells and joined the long queue in hopes
of finding an available seat for the ruling.  As a participating witness,
seating for Heskan and a guest waited in the reserved section of the room.

After
a few confounding moments trying to find their proper seats, Heskan and Vernay sat
back to watch the spectacle.  Thomas Wilder and his entire legion of AmyraCorp
attorneys packed around the plaintiff’s table.  The advocates for IaCom crowded
their station.  Joining them was Viscount Wallace, looking resplendent in his
blood-red service uniform.  The dignified defendant could have easily passed
for a judge had he been garbed in a gown and wig.

After
several minutes, the bailiff called the room to order and beckoned all to
stand.  The panel of eleven judges entered and promptly took their seats. 
Without preamble, the archjudge announced her ruling.

“We,
the highest court of Nessus, in the matter of procedural misconduct in the
resolution of corporate conflicts, find in favor of the defendant, IaCom, on
all counts.”

Heskan
heard excited chattering throughout the watching crowd.  Ahead of him, Wilder
was the essence of stoicism except for a barely perceptible head shake.

“We,
the highest court of Nessus, in the matter of personal misconduct in the
resolution of corporate conflicts, find in favor of the defendant, Viscount Oliver
Wallace, on all counts.”

The
archjudge rapped her gavel loudly over the growing noise without attempting to
establish order.  “This court is adjourned.”

Before
the clamor became deafening, the bailiff cried out, “All rise!”  The words
commanded everyone into silence as the judges stood from their perches and
exited the room.  After the last judge left, the chamber exploded into chaos.

“Damn,”
Vernay summarized succinctly as she dropped her datapad to her side and
pocketed it.

Heskan
shrugged and lifted his briefcase.  He shot her a wink and said, “It will make
this even more fun.”

Vernay
grinned mischievously.  “You and the archduke are evil geniuses.”  She looked
behind her toward the exit.  “Let’s get into the hall so we don’t miss him.”

If
the courtroom was chaos, the grand hall outside it was pure bedlam.  The
enormous cavern was elbow-to-elbow with reporters and commentators shouting excitedly
into cameras pointed in every direction.  Other media teams were jockeying for
position near the doors where Wilder and his counterpart would emerge.  When
the doors finally opened, the intensity of volume inside the hall increased
threefold.

Vernay
latched onto Heskan’s arm as he pushed his way rudely toward the front. 
Insincere apologies tumbled from his mouth as he used his briefcase as a wedge
to clear his path.

After
several minutes of struggle, Heskan could hear Wallace’s voice.  The viscount
was lamenting the sad days they lived in when a company as distinguished as
AmyraCorp would debase itself and the high court with such a frivolous lawsuit.

It
may have been the numerous lights shining into the viscount’s eyes or perhaps he
was dazzled by the brilliance of his own rhetoric, but he did not see Heskan coming.

Heskan
reached Wallace and transferred the briefcase to Vernay’s outstretched arms. 
He opened it and withdrew an immense stack of papers.  Over the media din, he
shouted at the Red Admiral.  “I must confess that it is my greatest pleasure in
presenting you, gentle Admiral, with Seshafi’s proper and righteous response to
your
casus bellum
!”  He shoved the large collection of papers at
Wallace, ramming the bundle hard enough into the imposing man’s chest to knock
him back a half step.

The
tight circle of reporters immediately gave way around Heskan, even as the
fervor of their reporting intensified.

Wallace
reflexively accepted the stack.  His initial, shocked expression turned into a divine
outrage as he processed Heskan’s statement.  Looking down at AmyraCorp’s interminable
response, his reddened face twisted further.  “At least give me a digital version
of this travesty of a response, you cretin.”

Heskan
shrugged playfully.  “Terribly sorry, Viscount, but I don’t have one.  I guess
you’ll have to convert it yourself.”

Wallace
flipped through the multitude of papers over what seemed like an eternity.  “You
must have listed every spaceworthy ship in Seshafi for your order of battle. 
This is preposterous!  How will we make heads or tails of this?”

“You’ll
just have to pull your heads out of your tails,” Vernay quipped with a winning
smile.

Heskan
heard Covington bark out a short laugh at her retort.  During the theatrics,
Hawk’s
captain and Commander Tannault had come up behind him.  Wallace’s preliminary assessment
of AmyraCorp’s order of battle was correct.  Typically, such documents were a
single sheet; this portion of Seshafi’s total response to Sade’s
casus
bellum
was twenty-two pages long.  It was purely smoke and mirrors, Heskan
knew.  Whereas Sade’s order of battle included a fearsome array of corporate
warships totaling more than thirty, Seshafi, in reality, could not fill out two
complete sections with warships.  Making matters worse, Commander McDaniel of the
Iron Brigade had regretfully informed Seshafi that
Jinete
, heavily
damaged in Sade, would not be repaired in time to participate and, therefore,
he could offer only three ships in support of their defense.  Heskan’s fleet
would be grossly outmatched, yet again, facing over two-to-one odds.  This time
he had nowhere to run.  Disguising his fleet among a laundry list of other
ships in the Seshafian order of battle, even temporarily, helped ease the ugly
truism.  “It’s all in accordance with the customs and procedures of corporate
warfare, Viscount,” Heskan said with false bravado.  “I can assure you of
that.”

Wallace
seemed ready to erupt.  As the Saden noble struggled for composure, Heskan
thought,
We’ve done it.  He’s going to throw our response up in the air and
explode in a bright, red mist of fury.

The
area around them grew eerily quiet, waiting for the response.  Only the hushed
whine of the larger recording devices filled the void.

To
Heskan’s surprise, Wallace collected himself and avoided combustion.  “Very
well.  So be it.  You shall receive our updated order of battle… a real order
of battle, shortly before the banquet, Sir Heskan.”  He turned toward the
media.  “Let it never be said that Sade and her subjects have failed to comply
not only with the letter of the law but its spirit.”

“We
won’t be attending any banquet, Viscount,” Heskan stated coldly.  “Given the,
how did your attorneys phrase it, ‘terrible tragedy resulting from Seshafi’s
porous security,’ we’ve decided placing every noble and ship captain together
in the same room is an unnecessary security risk.”  He turned toward the
cameras and smiled while announcing, “Let it never be said that Seshafi and her
subjects don’t hold the security of her guests above all else.”

A
cold fire burned in Wallace’s eyes.  “This is the path you’d have our people
travel?  You’ll not rest until you’ve destroyed every facet of our culture,
will you?”  His next words came out more as an oath than an observation.  “You must
be stopped; at any cost.”  Disdainful eyes turned upon Tannault briefly before
Wallace spun dramatically in place and stomped away.  The Red Admiral’s tangible
anger tossed aside the throng of media ahead of him like the strongest of gales.