Twin Stars 1: Ascension (9 page)

She gave him a sad, sympathetic look. “Lieutenant, I hardly think I need to tell you what greases the working of government in our day and age.”

He took that as his cue.

“Yes, in every day and age I should think.” He said with acceptance. “But, I should congratulate you on your new home. Give me your transfer code before we go, and I’ll send you a home-warming gift to help you celebrate.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” she said politely. “But, we will definitely appreciate it. Thank you.”

He shook his head, “not at all.”

“Well, let’s talk about your case, then.”

An AR window requesting a joint link popped up at the edge of Tysen’s vision, and he accepted it. This would allow the defense lawyer and himself to share a limited cooperative AR workspace in the air over the table and around them. Turning the restaurant table into a virtual office space that only they could see.

Once he’d accepted, several semi-transparent floating AR windows appeared over the table between them- each of them data files. Tysen could see one labeled with his name, and two labeled with military file codes that he assumed were the cases for the prosecution and defense.

“We talked before through a link, but I wanted to do the real planning face to face,” she told him. “We need to work on a strategy to get you out of this mess.”

“Besides my actions being justified?”

“Means and ends, is it Lieutenant?” She gave him another tired, sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, but that may not be how the Court of Enquiry sees it. They are just as likely to see this as a money making opportunity as they do a trial, and from what I see in your file your family may not have much to give.”

Tysen frowned. “Yes, my father saw to that when he died and left us neck-deep in gambling debts.”

“Ahh, that’s right.” She said, as if remembering something. “I wanted to ask you about that. I read your file, but there isn’t more than a brief mention of it. How was that resolved?”

Tysen shrugged. “I talked with his creditors and arranged a solution.”

The defense council’s eyebrow went up. “Just like that? You must have been what- thirteen?”

“Twelve.”

“And you walked into a shark’s pit and arranged for the debts to be paid- just like that?”

Tysen smiled, remembering how scared he’d been at the time, facing the bosses of the underground gambling houses, and yet he’d still held his ground and made them take him seriously. It was one of the proudest moments of his youth.

“Hardly,” he told her. “I had something they wanted more than money, and I used that as leverage.”

“Which was?”

“A title. While we were indeed drowning in debt, our family had once been quite noteworthy. I arranged for one of their children to be added to our family registry- something that gave them legitimacy that no common born could ever hope to achieve.”

She stared at him, shocked. “Wow. Remind me not to play poker with you. You did that at 12, and your family agreed?”

“My mother…Didn’t have much choice.”

In truth, it had been the thing that had driven the first rift between himself and his mother- she had resented his taking of authority, and resented being forced to go along with it even more. She had never quite looked at him with the same affection since that day, as though he had changed to her from her son into something else.

“But, hold on.” Clews replied. “While they might be a Noble on paper, they’re not in blood. I mean, nobility is determined by genetics, not law.”

“No,” he told her. “It’s both. Being part of a Noble family registry gives you the right to intermarry with other Noble bloodlines, something that those without the proper pedigree cannot do. We’re born sterile and conceive in-vitro, it’s our registry that determines whether the children have the right to claim Noble status or not. I’m told it’s about keeping the bloodlines pure.”

She stared at him in fascination. “That’s really something. I have known a number of nobles, but I don’t often get to interact with them like this. Please forgive me my interest.”

Their dinner arrived, and both began eating. Tysen had to admit, the chicken here was quite good. Perhaps he’d bring mother and Hariet here in the near future- although he worried Hariet might not want to eat in public with her condition. Yes, nobles were conceived in a medical facility, but it didn’t mean that their supposedly perfect genes really were perfect. Errors, legacies of generations of genetic alterations of the human genome, still crept in and popped up- Hariet being one such example. They called it “Plastic Syndrome”, a condition unique to Nobles with their enhanced nervous systems, and her sense of touch was literally disappearing. Her skin becoming as sensitive as a piece of plastic.

“Hey, wait a moment.” Lt. Clews waved a piece of carrot to get his attention as a thought occurred to her. “Doesn’t that mean you have a member of your family who’s involved in organized crime?”

“No,” Tysen shook his head. “The paper brother we adopted was killed several years ago in a vehicle accident.” To Tysen’s great relief at the time. “It won’t come up.”

“I should hope not,” she said, popping the carrot in her mouth and chewing on it. “We’ve already got enough problems with the piracy charges, and anything that paints you in a bad light won’t help our cause, even if you are a Noble.”

They finished their meal in silence, each thinking their own thoughts about the situation. Finally, as coffee was being served, Lt. Clews brought the files up again into view, having dismissed them while they ate.

“Okay then, let’s talk about our defense. What story are we going to tell them?”

“Why not the truth?”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” She brought up the files in question- lists and images of containers scrolled between them. “You traded all of these cargo containers to pirates for a tow back into orbit.”

“Cargo that was about to be destroyed as the station fell on the planet and killed a great many people.” He pointed out.

“But it wasn’t, was it?” The image on the AR window between them changed to security footage of the pirates loading the containers onto their shuttles. “So, that makes you a thief who aided and abetted these pirates in robbing the station. You traded property you didn’t own for services that may not have been necessary if the station personnel had managed to get things back under control.”

“They were locked out, it wasn’t possible.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she brought an image of a balding man with thick black eyebrows up. There was a name under the image- Archibald Thomas. “That’s now how the crown attorney is going to put it. He will frame it so you look like you were a part of the pirates. Like it was all a big plan- terrorists or no. He will make you seem like the mastermind of the whole thing.”

Tysen looked at the image aghast. “Why? I’ve never done anything to him!”

“It isn’t about you, Lieutenant- it’s about the service.” She sighed. “I’ve defended a lot of men and women in the last year, and it’s been the same thing over and over. The brass is looking for people to be made examples of- people they can come down hard on. They want everyone to know the penalties for “creative thinking”; because they’re scared they can’t hold on much longer. Or, to use an old saying- they’re looking for a chicken to kill to scare the monkeys.”

“And I’m the chicken,” Tysen said sourly.

“Exactly.” She waved the image of the prosecutor away and gave him a sympathetic look. “I hope I’m wrong about this, but I don’t think this time is going to be any different.”

“So, do you have a plan?”

“I few of them,” she brightened. “But first, I need some cream for my coffee. Let me order some, and we’ll get started…”

* * *

Tysen’s mother had been a piano player of some note in her youth, and while she hadn’t kept it up through the years, the habit of playing the piano when something was worrying her was a strong one she often fell back on. Thus, Tysen was in no way surprised when he returned home to hear the soft sound of piano music drifting through the house from the back sitting room.

Making his way quickly through the large home, Tysen found his mother sitting at the antique baby grand that had been a gift to her from Tysen’s grandfather on her sixteenth birthday.

“Mother! I have excellent news!” He said enthusiastically, getting a stern look in return. His mother gestured at a nearby sofa where Hariet lay sleeping beneath a hand-woven blanket in the gentle afternoon suns.

“Oh, sorry!” He raised a hand in an apologetic gesture, then stepped in close and whispered- “Mother, I have news. I was just in contact with our ship’s surgeon and he said he’ll be willing to arrange for Hariet’s operation with one of his colleagues at a veterans hospital in Castle City.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “Really?” She whispered back. “Tysen, that’s wonderful!”

He nodded, then after hesitating a moment he added. “We will have to pay him privately, of course. Cash only.”

His mother made a dismissive gesture. “I’ll sell the horses, that should pay for it.”

“Mother,” Tysen cautioned. “You only have two of them left, and one is Hariet’s.”

“What good is a horse she can’t ride?” She reminded him. “No, we can get her another one later. Right now, what’s important is that Hariet can have her operation.”

They both looked at his sleeping sister for a time, and then his mother looked up at him. “Any news from your lawyer?”

Tysen nodded. “Yes, my part in the hearing is scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’ll be taking the stand just before second lunch, when they’re done questioning my crew.”

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’ll have your best suit prepared.”

“You will do nothing of the sort!” He said with mock seriousness. “I can take care of my own clothes- thank you very much! No, you just worried about sister, and I’ll take care of my own needs.” Then he paused and added. “Oh, and I’d prefer it if you and Hariet didn’t come to the hearing.”

He watched her carefully- he expected resistance on this point, but he’d already thought it through and decided that he didn’t want to put them through any more stress.

“Why ever not?!” His mother exclaimed, acting much as he’d expected.

“Mother,” Tysen dropped to one knee beside the piano bench, taking her hands in his, and looked up into his mother’s soft blue eyes. “I know you want to support me, but this may not be pleasant. Lieutenant Clews thinks they may be a bit rough on me, and I’d prefer you not see it.”

She gave him a pained look, and then finally sighed and nodded. “I see.”

“Mother,” he gave her a reassuring grin. “Don’t worry. We have an excellent case. This will be over before you know it.”

* * *

“Please be seated.”

The courtroom was a cold, gray amphitheater, with the defendants and prosecutors on the lowest level, looking up at the raised seats of the panel of judges. Rings of spectator seats, now filled with members of
Crystal Leaf’s
crew and assorted others, were tiered up behind the lawyers- looking down on the legal gladiators before them.

“This review panel is now back in session, and for the record, I am Commodore Earnhardt Sorrell.” Announced the head of the five-member panel, a grim broad-faced man with a large black mustache. “Over the past few days, we have heard from the crew of the Imperial Star Guard Cutter
Crystal Leaf
regarding the incident at Miraposa Three, and we will now hear from the defendant- Lieutenant Albert Tysen.” Then he focused on the small table to his front left, where Tysen sat with his lawyer. “Councilor Clews you may begin your opening statement.”

The Judge Advocate gave Tysen a confident smile and then stood up, taking a moment to look at each of the panel members before refocusing on its leader. “Thank you, your honor.” She said in a loud, clear voice.

“Your honor, fellow members of the board, this man before you needs no introduction. Lieutenant Albert Tysen was the recipient of the People’s Medal for Bravery twice in his short career, and has been personally decorated by the Grand Admiral with the Imperial Academy’s highest honor- the
Ying Fa Star
, for graduating the top of his class. At 26, this makes him one of the most decorated officers in this service for his age, and these are decorations he earned in the field making decisions and taking actions necessary to save the lives of both his crewmates and to defend this state. I remind you of his record because, as I have just said, he is a man of action who has been rewarded by our service for those actions time and again.

“How then, could he not take action when he saw the orbital transfer station above Miraposa Three falling? A station filled with many thousands of lives heading for a planet filled with countless others? I ask you ladies and gentlemen, what would you do in that situation? Would you have let all of those people face their fates?”

“Or,” she paused, letting the question hang. “Would you do whatever it took to save them?”

Lt. Clews was out from behind her table now, walking to stand right in front of the panel and looking up at them.

“Lieutenant Albert Tysen was faced with that choice, your honor, and he did what he believed was the only course of action available to him to preserve that station and those innocent lives. Yes, there may be question in his methods, but does not the law require temperance and consideration of circumstance?