"Hmmm. Commander Herdez doesn't sound like the sort of officer who'd look kindly upon an officer accused of grossly neglecting his duties."
"Yes, ma'am, but — " Paul struggled for the right words. "She's very fair. Commander Herdez doesn't let her emotions or preferences decide an issue. She'll have to be convinced."
"Fair enough." Carr made a note on her own data pad. "Convincing her is my job, but I'd appreciate any hints you might think of for what would best serve to do that. What about the rest of the members?"
Paul went back to reading. Lieutenant Commander Peter Bryko, attached to the Commodore's staff. Lieutenant Commander Susan Goldberg, from the Space Officer's school, just like Mashiko. "No, ma'am. I don't know them. I'll ask around the ship, though. Some of the other officers may have worked with them."
"Okay, but keep it discreet. What's your ship's schedule look like for the next couple of months? Will you be underway much?"
Paul couldn't help a short, bitter laugh. "Sorry, ma'am. No, we won't be underway at all. Forward Engineering was very badly damaged by the fire. They're having to replace, rebuild, and test everything there and check everything in surrounding compartments for damage. The last estimate I saw called for completion of that work in about two and half months."
Commander Carr shook her head. "It'll be a pleasure to nail Silver's hide to the wall." She saw Paul's look. "What's the matter?"
"Well, ma'am, isn't he presumed innocent?"
Alex Carr laughed again. "By the court. By the members. But my job is to presume he's guilty and do everything I can to prove it. I'll always talk about Silver as being guilty. You don't want the prosecution arguing that the accused could be innocent!" She sobered. "Needless to say, that doesn't mean if I found proof of his innocence that I'd disregard it. Okay, the word I have is the court-martial will convene in about two months. The defense counsel and I have both already tentatively agreed that'll be long enough to build our cases. That doesn't rule out a request for a continuance, of course. I'm going to ask your captain for permission to work directly with you during that period. Will that cause you any problems?"
Paul thought of Commander Kwan, and Commander Garcia. Kwan had been very unhappy with what had happened to Silver already, and Garcia wouldn't like either the chance of negative attention nor any distraction from Paul's regular duties. Then he thought of Chief Asher. "Some of my superiors on the ship might not be thrilled, ma'am, but there won't be any problems I can't handle. I don't think Captain Hayes will have any objections to it."
"Good. Oh, yes, one more thing. I understand the military judge will be Captain David Halstead." Another smile. "Within the JAG Corps he's known as 'Hang 'em Halstead.' He runs a tight court, but he's actually very fair through the trial. It's only if Judge Halstead decides the punishment that his nickname applies. That's it, then. I'll be in touch."
"Thank you, ma'am." Paul left, thinking about two months for him, Scott Silver, and everyone else to spend wondering how the court-martial would come out. Then he realized that time span meant the Maury would be back before the court-martial. At least I'll have Jen around.
As expected, Captain Hayes approved of Paul working directly with Commander Carr. Also as expected, Commander Kwan and Commander Garcia found ways to let Paul know they weren't happy about it. The agents from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service took apart Lieutenant Silver's former stateroom piece by piece, looking for any evidence of wrongdoing but confiding nothing to the ship's personnel. Their work done, Mike Bristol could finally get to his own shaving kit and bunk again. Alex Carr came aboard one afternoon, touring Forward Engineering with such an exhaustive attention to detail that Paul found himself wondering if she'd learned to conduct inspections at the feet of Commander Herdez.
As for Lieutenant Silver, Paul heard he'd been assigned temporary duty at a desk job somewhere deep within the bowels of Franklin Station. Wherever Silver happened to be working, no one from the Michaelson caught any glimpses of him, something which brought Paul great relief. On the ship, Silver had become sort of a nonperson. Everyone was aware Silver was gone, but no one talked about his absence, about the job he'd held, or shared memories about his time on the ship. Conversations dwelled on the upcoming court-martial, but aside from that Silver might never have been assigned to the Michaelson.
Lieutenant Commander Bartlet Jones had been assigned to conduct Silver's defense. He also came aboard the Michaelson, interviewing crew members and conducting his own inspection of Forward Engineering. He didn't ask to talk to Paul.
And, in due course, the USS Maury returned to Franklin. Paul watched her arrival from Combat on the Michaelson, as the Maury approached closer and closer, until her symbology merged with that of the station. By calling in-port ship status readings, Paul could tell when the Maury had finished mating to the station. But there wasn't any sense in heading down to her dock at that point. Even if he hadn't a work day to finish on the Michaelson, Paul knew all too well that many jobs had to be closed out before officers and crew could bolt from the ship that had been their sole home for three months.
Liberty call sounded on the Michaelson, and Paul finally headed down to the Maury 's dock. He waited about fifteen minutes after that, surrounded by a crowd of others greeting the arrival of the ship, before he heard liberty call being passed onboard the Maury. Within a few minutes, crew members began filing off the Maury 's quarterdeck as fast as they could request permission to go ashore.
Paul spotted a familiar figure, waved, then waited until Jen made her way to him. "You came back."
"Yeah. Not that I had a choice. My ship came back, and I was sort of tied to her." Jen looked around. "I don't see any new girlfriends."
"Nope."
"I don't have any new boyfriends."
"That's good."
"You still want me, huh?"
"More than ever."
"Still desperate, I take it."
"Not at all. At the moment I'm feeling incredibly lucky to be with you again."
"Lucky? Like you won me in a lottery?"
"Maybe that's not the best word."
"It's not. Luck has nothing to do with it. Three months away made me sure of one thing. I want to be with you because of who you are, Paul Sinclair."
"And I want to be with you because of who you are. Don't look at me like that. It's true. The last three months have helped me realize how important you are to my life. You're my anchor."
"Your anchor? That's certainly a lovely analogy. Are you saying I'm really heavy and tie you down? That I'm often filthy and snag objects as I drag along the bottom? That you're chained to me and straining to break free?"
Paul grinned. "My spiritual anchor. I'm only chained to you by chains of love."
"Oh, gag me. Good thing I haven't eaten yet."
"I love you, Jen."
She eyed him, smiling slowly. "I love you, too. We're both in uniform, so you'll have to consider yourself mentally hugged and kissed." They started walking. "I heard there was a fire on the Michaelson."
"Oh, yeah, there was a fire."
"Has anything else happened since I left?"
"You might say that."
It took Paul a few minutes to outline events, then Jen shook her head. "For heaven's sake, Paul! Can't I leave you alone for more than five minutes without you getting involved in a court-martial?"
"You were gone for three months," Paul pointed out. "That's a lot more than five minutes."
"The principle's the same." She gave him a suspicious look. "You haven't mentioned something, yet. What is it?"
Paul sighed and passed over his data pad. "This is the investigation initially conducted to determine the cause of the accident and where the fault lay."