Sharpe made an unhappy face as he thought about Paul's words. "Yes, sir," he finally admitted. "I guess you're right about that. But just because this is all we've found doesn't mean that's all there is. We haven't exactly been able to go whole hog on our little investigation. If it turns formal, a lot more ugly stuff might crawl out of the woodwork. Probably will, if my experience counts for anything."
"I'm sure it does." Paul slumped in his chair, staring at his display. It's all there. Oh, nothing that says beyond a shadow of a doubt that Chief Asher received orders to do what he did, and nothing that absolutely proves who it was that messed up the engineering records, but it all points in one direction.
So what do I do? Everything I've got is circumstantial evidence, but I've got a lot of it. The captain's supposed to make this decision, but Captain Hayes will make up his mind based on what I tell him. I think. In any case, it'll look like sour grapes to some people, especially since Scott Silver's one real talent appears to be trying to make people like him. A lot of those people will just see this as an attempt by me to blame someone else. And the someone else everything seems to point toward isn't just any screw-up. He's a son-of-an-admiral screw-up, which has apparently gotten him out of every jam up until now. But as far as I know, he's never been implicated in causing the death of a service member before.
Vice Admiral Silver has a good reputation for doing his job. Does that mean he'll look at all kindly on having his son implicated in Asher's death?
The best I can hope for is for my own conclusions to be proven right. Which means Lieutenant Silver gets a court-martial and gets proven guilty. When did I turn into somebody'd who send another officer to a court-martial based upon evidence even I admit is circumstantial?
Petty Officer Sharpe stayed silent, waiting. Paul screwed his eyes shut. Now all he could see was the random patterns of light and dark which didn't hold any more answers than the sight of his display had. Why does this have to be my decision? It's not just because I was in the duty section. It's because I got stuck with this legal officer job when I reported aboard. As if I know what the hell I'm doing. Thank you, Commander Herdez. The thought of his former XO brought up more memories. His first days and weeks onboard the Michaelson, his first Captain's Masts, mistakes he still shied away from remembering, the death of Petty Officer Davidas.
Davidas' death had definitely been an accident. No question. Paul had been vastly relieved, knowing the officer who'd be held to account if it hadn't been an accident would've been Carl Meadows. Herdez had seen that relief, just like she seemed to see everything onboard. What was it she told me then? Our duty requires us to follow our investigations to their conclusions, regardless of how much we dislike those conclusions, because a sailor had died and we couldn't betray that sailor's sacrifice by shirking our duty, no matter how much it hurt us personally. Something like that. I never forgot that, because I knew deep down it was true. Herdez isn't easy to love. She's an ironclad bitch, I guess, but she's sure easy to admire as a professional. So I know what she'd do.
His eyes opened and strayed to a small portrait fastened on one side of his desk. Jen, caught in a candid photo, laughing during some forgotten celebration in the wardroom. What would Jen think about me putting my career on the line this way? Dumb question. Jen's a professional, too. If she thought another officer had caused the death of one of his sailors, and then tried to cover it up, she'd go after him with a vengeance. For good reason, too, because the next person that officer caused the death of might be Jen or a whole ship worth of Jens.
And as for me, I know what I should do. I know what the heroes I admired growing up would do. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. He who will not risk cannot win. Can I do no less? I'm not even risking my life, like they did. Hell, not acting risks other peoples' lives.
That's three in favor of sticking my neck out.
Paul looked directly at Sharpe.
Sheriff Sharpe looked back. "Sir?" The question Sharpe really wanted to ask was clear enough.
"Don't worry, Sheriff." Paul copied his findings to a data coin. "I took a poll and got three votes for doing the tough thing, and none against."
"Three votes, sir?"
"Yeah. One was mine. The others were two people whose opinions I respect." Paul grinned. "Don't worry, Sheriff, I respect your opinion, too. But I already know how you'd vote."
"You're going to see the captain now, sir? May I come along?"
Paul hesitated, then shook his head. "This is about an officer, Sheriff. It's better if the captain and I discuss it without an enlisted sailor present. You understand."
"Yes, sir, I do. And, to be perfectly frank, sir, there's some officers I'd worry about making decisions like that without an enlisted around watching them. But I think you and Captain Hayes will do the right thing."
Assuming Captain Hayes agrees with me on what the right thing happens to be. "I'll let you know, Sheriff."
As usual, a line of personnel trailed away from the hatch of the captain's cabin. Paul waited patiently as the line inched forward, each officer or sailor getting the signature they needed to get personally or personally delivering the report they needed to personally deliver to the captain. Even with so much of the ship automated and so many reports sent around via the ship's intranet, Navy traditions and rules kept much of the work on a face-to-face basis. Despite his resolution, Paul felt his stomach knotting up as he neared the hatch. He didn't look forward to delivering his report, and wasn't sure how it'd be received.
Captain Hayes took one look at Paul's face when he entered, then directed him to close the hatch. "What's up, Mr. Sinclair?"
Paul offered the data coin. "Sir, I've completed my investigation into the accident."
"I see." Hayes took the coin, turning it slowly in his hand, then looked sharply at Paul. "What's the bottom-line?"
Paul swallowed, partly out of nervousness and partly to clear a throat which felt too tight. "Captain, I believe a preponderance of circumstantial evidence points to the conclusion that Lieutenant Silver ordered Chief Asher to undertake emergency repairs on the power transfer junction in Forward Engineering, and to do so single-handedly in violation of safety procedures. That required Chief Asher to disable the safety interlocks. This is what prevented the fire-suppression systems from functioning. The engineering logs would have clearly shown that this activity had taken place, as well as an authorization clearance from Chief Asher and an officer. Therefore I also believe Lieutenant Silver is responsible for damaging the engineering records to prevent his role in the matter from being discovered. Further, I have a statement from a member of Lieutenant Silver's division that he discouraged them from cooperating with the initial investigation by frightening them with the claim that anything they said would harm Chief Asher's family."
Hayes stared silently at Paul for a long moment. "Are you recommending I court-martial Lieutenant Silver?"