Swords and Saddles (25 page)

“Defense counsel has every right to question her witness as to his own state of mind, Trial Counsel. Overruled.”

Sharpe looked from Halstead to Carr. “No, ma’am. You can’t be ordered to shoot one of your own people.”

“Did you honestly believe there was a real chance that individual was a friendly, Chief Sharpe?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“No further questions.”

Major Hue walked up to Sharpe, his face hard. “Chief Sharpe, how strong was this belief that the target might be a friendly?”

“Strong enough, sir.”

“What evidence did you have that the target was friendly? Was there any evidence?”

Sharpe nodded, not intimidated by Hue’s pointed questions or attitude. “Yes, sir. A suit which appeared the same as ours and no obvious indicators of hostile action or intent while I was observing that individual.”

“Do the sailors under your command routinely decide whether or not to obey your orders, Chief Sharpe?”

“No, sir.” Sharpe’s lips drew back slightly. “I don’t do it routinely either, but there was nothing routine about that situation.”

Major Hue watched Sharpe, then shook his head and walked back to his table.

LCDR Nasser gave Sharpe a challenging look. “Chief Sharpe, how often have you disobeyed orders? Lawful or unlawful?”

Sharpe rubbed his lower face, obviously thinking. “Disobeyed, sir? Once, sir. On 6 July.”

Nasser glanced at the judge. “He’s still under oath, right?”

“That’s correct,” Halstead replied.

“Just once, Chief Sharpe? In how many years?”

“Twelve years in the Navy, sir.”

Master Chief Kobo leaned his chin on one hand. “I got the impression from your boss’s testimony that he doesn’t like you. Are you a smart-ass, Chief Sharpe?”

“I can be, master chief,” Sharpe admitted.

“Do you get the job done?”

“Yes, master chief. I get it done and I get it done right. I’ve never had a bust thrown out in court and I’ve never let down the people I work for. Ask anybody.”

Kobo’s gaze went to Jen for a moment. “I don’t think I have to, Chief Sharpe.”

Captain Daladros spoke next. “Chief Sharpe, knowing everything that you know now, would you have fired when ordered to fire?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If the situation somehow repeated exactly, if you knew then only what you knew then, would you fire or not?”

Sharpe considered the question, his face troubled. “I don’t know, ma’am.”

“You’ve thought about it?”

“Yes, ma’am. I wasn’t certain I was right, it turned out I was wrong, but I don’t know if I’d do different if the exact same thing happened again.”

Captain Daladros sat back, clearly thinking.

“The defense rests,” Commander Carr announced.

Halstead faced Major Hue as Sharpe returned to his seat at the defense table. “Is Trial Counsel prepared for closing arguments?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Major Hue walked steadily to a point facing the members’ table. “Your Honor, members of the court, a lot of excuses have been offered in this court today. Excuses like ‘it wouldn’t have mattered.’ ‘It didn’t make any difference.’ ‘The situation was confusing.’ ‘There was noise.’ ‘The target couldn’t be precisely identified.’ Every one of those excuses fail the tests to which they must be set. The test of duty. The test of responsibility. The test of discipline. Even the test of team work which Colonel Lamont invoked, because how can a team function if one member takes it upon himself to disregard the instructions of the team leader? Chief Sharpe received a clear, unequivocal order. He acknowledged receiving that order. He didn’t carry it out. He didn’t even offer an explanation at the time for not obeying the order. The very existence of this station, the lives of everyone on it, were on the line, and Chief Sharpe hesitated in the face of the enemy. That’s the bottom line, that’s the one thing no excuse can minimize. When his duty made its sternest demands on him, when his fellow personnel needed him the most, Chief Sharpe hesitated. I ask you to find him guilty as to all charges and specifications.”

Major Hue sat and Commander Carr walked to about the same place, facing the members. “Your Honor, members of the court, there are indeed serious issues here, but they involve second-guessing of a single action by a single individual and attempts to blow that one action out of proportion. You heard the testimony of Captain Dila and Colonel Lamont. Those who attacked this station did exactly what they were told, even when those orders were clearly wrong and counter-productive, and when deprived of detailed instructions were at a loss. The personnel defending this station had to react in the face of confusion, of lost and damaged systems, of inadequate information, but they did act, and they frustrated the attack on this station. Why? Because we entrust our defense to people who are trained to
think
.

“A military force needs discipline. But it also needs initiative, it also needs wisdom, it also needs common sense. You heard Colonel Lamont, a decorated veteran of combat.
It depends
, he said. Should front-line troops follow exactly the orders they receive from superiors removed from the scene? It depends. Chief Petty Officer Sharpe is being charged with failing to follow an order to fire when he believed his target was a friendly. He could have fired, and avoided these charges. But he is not a robot, not a machine. He is a human being, and in the final analysis we need to ask ourselves what we want defending us – machines which kill without hesitation on order, or humans who sometimes hesitate, sometimes think, sometimes decide that the order they’ve received may be unlawful, may be wrong.”

Carr pivoted to look at Sharpe. “Some of the charges against Chief Sharpe were disproved by the testimony of the prosecution’s own witnesses. His failure to fire on one occasion at one possible target did not have any impact on whether or not this station was saved, but his actions as part of the emergency response
team
were important in saving the station. But as Chief Sharpe testified, and as the prosecution did not attempt to refute, he was under no obligation to obey an order he reasonably believed could be unlawful. In the end, that’s what this court-martial comes down to, what the members of this court must decide. Do we grant those to whom we entrust our defense the right to think and to decide, or do we insist that they rigidly follow instructions even when they have cause to believe those instructions are wrong? Do we use the intelligence and common sense of our personnel, or do we order them to do exactly as they are told without question? The answers aren’t always easy, but that’s why we need to offer our personnel the right to use their own initiative instead of insisting on ironclad, no-exception rules. Our enemies have chosen one path. I urge you to chose the other, and find Chief Petty Officer Sharpe innocent as to all charges and specifications.”

Captain Halstead looked from the members to the trial counsel’s table to the defense counsel’s table. “The members will now deliberate. Do you anticipate difficulty in rendering findings, LCDR Nasser?”

Nasser looked to either side at the other members. “No, Your Honor.”

“Then this court is closed and will reconvene at ten hundred tomorrow in this same courtroom.”

After everyone else had left, Jen turned to Commander Carr. “I didn’t realize my presence here would sandbag Major Hue as much as it did.”

Carr stretched and smiled. “I hoped for that, and got more than I expected. But the game isn’t over, lieutenant. I never celebrate prematurely.”

Jen jerked her chin toward the judge’s bench. “I was thinking, if they’d just charged Sharpe with disobeying an order, it probably would’ve got him non-judicial punishment and he would’ve taken hits there. But they wanted to nuke him.”

“You’re very likely right, lieutenant. But that’s one of the perils of trying to classify too much. The right people, the ones who could’ve kept this from getting this far, didn’t hear about it at all or heard too late to impose a little sanity on the process. Chief Sharpe might have been hammered because of that.” Carr yawned. “I’m not even sure what time-zone my body is in. I’ll see you in the morning, lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jen watched Carr leave the courtroom.

#

“Have the members reached findings?” Captain Halstead asked.

“We have.” LCDR Nasser passed over the data pad containing the findings to the bailiff, who carried it to the judge, who studied the pad before handing it back.

“Chief Sharpe,” Halstead directed, “will you and your counsel stand up. LCDR Nasser, announce the findings, please.”

Nasser gave Sharpe an enigmatic look, then focused back on the data pad. “Chief Petty Officer Ivan Sharpe, this court finds you not guilty as to all charges and specifications.”

There was some more legal boilerplate to go through, but eventually Captain Halstead looked around the courtroom once again. "The court-martial is adjourned."

As the judge, the members and Major Hue left the courtroom, Chief Sharpe turned to Jen and saluted her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Jen returned the salute, shaking her head. “You and I both know what Lieutenant Sinclair would have done if I hadn’t helped bail you out, Sheriff. You damned well better thank Chief Henga for saving your butt, too.”

Sharpe’s old grin finally returned. “The woman never listens to me.”

“Lucky you. Get back to work, Sheriff. Try to stay out of trouble from now on.”

“Yes, ma’am. Please give my regards to Lieutenant Sinclair.”

Jen waited while Commander Carr finished wrapping up paperwork with the court, uncertain if her role as assistant had wrapped up as well. When Carr finished and came back to the defense counsel’s table she gave Jen a surprised look. “You’re free, lieutenant. I’m officially back on leave, while I try to find the quickest shuttle back to Earth.”

“I know some contacts who might help,” Jen suggested.

“Do you know a decent place to eat while I work those contacts?”

“Fogarty’s is okay, if you don’t mind being around a lot of ship drivers.”

Carr grinned. “Some of my favorite people are ship drivers. Can I treat you to a victory lunch?”

“Thank you, ma’am.” They began walking out of the courtroom, Jen struggling with words she knew she had to say. “Commander, Paul always told me that you pulled your punches when you were prosecuting me. I never really believed him.”

Carr shook her head in denial, but didn’t look at Jen. “I did my duty.”

“Which isn’t always that easy to figure out, is it? But I saw what you did to that master chief. If you’d hit me like that, with all the stress I was under, I might’ve fallen apart.”

“I doubt that,” Carr remarked. “You stood up pretty well on 6 July. I’ve never thought of myself as being more intimidating than terrorists.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, ma’am. Anyway, thanks for what you did for Chief Sharpe.”

Carr swept away Jen’s thanks with a wave of her hand. “I’m still trying to balance the scales, lieutenant. Besides, I wanted to see justice done in this case, too. But if you need me again, you call me. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jen extended her hand. “Pax?”

“Seriously?” Carr stopped, looking at Jen’s offered hand, then smiled and shook it. “Thanks.” They started walking again. “How’s Paul doing on Mars, by the way?”

“Getting in trouble.”

“Big shock.”

“Yeah. You heard about the Utopia incident, didn’t you?”

Carr nodded. “I saw the transcripts, but I’d love to hear Paul’s personal take on things.”

“Well, stuff started going wrong as soon as he got to Mars, starting with the surprise he got when he reported in . . .”