"Yes, indeed. What about Jen's father? You told us he's a captain?"
"That's right. Commanding officer of the Mahan."
"The Mahan? She's not in port."
"No. Deep patrol. She won't be back for months."
"That's not good. What about her mother?"
"Dead. Years ago." Paul inhaled deeply. "I'm all she's got."
"Not quite. No son of mine is going to stand alone in a matter like this. Frank?"
His father sighed. "What if she's convicted, Paul? You seem to think that's a real possibility. Those charges will put her in confinement for a very long time."
"I can wait."
"So you say now. Look, I know how it feels to be in love. You can't imagine your love object has any flaws-"
Mrs. Sinclair smiled briefly. "I broke that illusion of your father's pretty quick."
"You certainly did. And I'm not saying your girl did what she's accused of doing. But, she could be convicted. Think of ten years down the line, her in Fort Leavenworth and you outside, waiting for another thirty or forty years to pass, if not more."
"You don't think I should stand by her."
"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying maybe you do your best, but she's convicted and the appeals are rejected…"
Paul snorted a brief laugh, looking away for a moment. "Dad, I'm not under the slightest illusion that Jen is perfect. She's pushy, temperamental, stubborn, willful and rough-edged. She's also the best thing by far that's ever happened to me."
His father smiled for a moment. "Sounds a lot like your mother."
His mother gave his father a sharp look. "I beg your pardon?"
Paul couldn't help smiling briefly himself at the byplay. "After the Maury 's engineering spaces blew to hell I had to face what seemed to be the certainty that she'd died. I couldn't imagine what I'd do, how I'd ever find someone else who could fill the hole Jen'd left in me. Then I found out she'd survived. I know how it'd feel to lose her, because I thought I had. Do you think I'd ever let her go, now?"
"Not if you were worth a damn," his father replied.
"Yes," his mother agreed. "There may not be much we can do to help, but what we can do, we will."
Lieutenant Bashir offered Paul his data pad. "Here's the convening order for the court-martial. Do you know any of the members of the court?"
Paul took the device and read through it slowly. A general court-martial had been convened, the most serious. It made him wince internally even though he'd known Jen would be charged with offenses too serious for either of the less severe forms of court-martial, special or summary. Unlike the special or summary courts-martial, which had limitations on the punishments they could order, a general court-martial could assign any legal punishment, no matter how severe. It was reserved for only the worst offenses.
He read the list of personnel identified in the convening order. Military Judge. Captain David V. McMasters. I'll have to ask Bashir about McMasters. President of the court-martial is Captain William Carney. Carney? That doesn't ring any bells. No, wait. Isakov mentioned that name. He was the commanding officer of the Isherwood at one point. I wish I knew more than that, but I'm really leery of asking Val Isakov anything. Then there's Commander Francesca Bolivar. Commander of the Fleet Intelligence Support Activity on Franklin. Doesn't look like she's ever served on ships. Lieutenant Commander Gavin Cloud. Just came up from Earth duty, awaiting assignment. It says he's open space warfare officer qualified, so he must have some experience, but it must predate my own arrival up here. He's been on earth since before I got to the Michaelson.
Lieutenant Daniela Kalin. Off the Dahlgren. And Lieutenant Karl Ishiki. Fleet staff. I don't know any of these people.
Paul repeated his last thought out loud. Bashir nodded. "Not too surprising. You and Lieutenant Shen moved in the same crowd, right? They couldn't choose any members for the court who knew her well, so it follows you wouldn't know them. And they had to rule out people who'd served with Shen's father on the Mahan or elsewhere, too. But it was worth a try to see if you could tell me anything about any of them."
Paul indicated a couple of names. "Carney, Cloud and Kalin are all Open Space Warfare Officers."
"Is that good or bad?"
"Well…" Paul hesitated before replying. "It's a tough community. OSWOs can be really supportive, or they can eat you alive. You never know."
"I'll say that's likely to be bad, then."
"What about the judge? What's McMasters like?"
Bashir looked noncommittal. "He runs a tight court-room. No nonsense. No games. He doesn't tend to favor either the prosecution or the defense. He leaves that part of things to the trial counsel and the defense counsel."
"That sounds good."
"Oh, yeah. It can be a lot worse. Now…" Bashir held up his data unit again. "Here's the list of evidence I've been provided by the prosecution."
Paul paged through the lists of documents. "This is almost all engineering stuff."
"Yeah." Bashir squinted at his display. "And I'm a lawyer. I don't know a blasted thing about any of it."
"Jen can explain it."
"Yeah." Bashir settled back, rubbing his eyes. "But that's part of the problem. Lieutenant Shen really knows this stuff."
"Why's that a problem?"
"I can only guess at the prosecution strategy, but based on this stuff and the very limited evidence available, I'd say they're going to argue that this couldn't have been an accident. If they rule out an accident, that points it right at Lieutenant Shen."
"Why? They have to prove she did it."
"No." Bashir leaned forward again, resting on his elbows. "They can't prove she did it. But they can try to prove that there's no other way it could've happened unless she did it."
Paul shook his head. "Jen's got to prove she didn't do it?"
"Essentially, yes. Not directly, that is. But we have to come up with alternate explanations for what happened."
"And?"
Bashir exhaled heavily. "Let me know if you think of any."
"But Jen-"
"Tells me she hasn't a clue. Can't even imagine a scenario."
"But there's got to be alternative explanations!"
"Like I said, I'm open for suggestions."
Paul hastened back to the Michaelson, finding Colleen Kilgary sitting in the wardroom. "I really need your help."
Colleen gave him a curious look. "You, or Jen?"
"Both." Paul explained the problem. "You're main propulsion assistant on the Michaelson. You know this stuff a lot better than I do. So, what else could've done it?"
Kilgary sat back, staring at the overhead, and stayed that way for a long time before shaking her head. "Damned if I can think of anything."
"The systems can't be that perfect!"
"They're not! But you're not talking about one component failing. You're talking about everything going boom at pretty much the same time. It can't happen."
"It did happen."
"Yes." Kilgary bit her lip. "Paul, I just can't come up with something that would've done that. Not on the Michaelson."
"The Maury wasn't the Michaelson."
"True. There's always at least minor differences even between sister ships. And Maury had just gone through that overhaul. But if the accident happened because of something on the Maury that was different from the Michaelson it means I can't help you much. I know this ship."
Paul slumped and nodded. "Thanks, Colleen. I'd appreciate it if you'd ask Chief Meyer for his assessment, too."
"Uh, okay." Kilgary looked away, twisting her coffee container in her hands.
"What's the matter?"
"Noth- Oh, hell. Paul, when Jen got charged with doing that… people got strange."