Though I'm well aware the decision to
write this story, and the prelude "Jurisprudence" which has preceded it,
could cost me some fans, seven years of STAR TREK: VOYAGER have led me
inevitably to this point. To allow what occurred to go unaddressed, as if
nothing immoral, illegal or unethical had been done on their seven-year jaunt,
seems to me both inexcusable and a violation of TREK'S most important
fundamental principles. I've read one or two stories on this very subject,
including some that were extremely well-composed. None left me satisified that the critical issues had been substantively
explored. Hopefully, I'll remedy that with a satisfying, exciting tale.
Then, again, you can't please everyone.
[Note to the casual reader: I strongly
recommend you read the story preceding this one in the
"The Trial of Kathryn Janeway"
By Joseph Manno
"On all counts: Not guilty."
The voice rang, almost defiantly,
through the courtroom.
Commodore Phillipa
Louvois, in that moment the plea was announced,
chanced a look at the defense table... and more specifically, the defendant
herself.
As the words had been spoken, Captain
Kathryn Janeway, whether consciously or not, had
straightened into even more erect a posture. It was a proud, steadfast pose:
She cut a striking figure in her class-A dress uniform.
There was no explosion of applause, no
collective gasp, not even a murmur, from the gallery...
...because, essentially, there was
no gallery—or, at least, nothing that could be called a crowd. Only a handful
of observers was present. In a room designed to hold
hundreds, it lent the proceedings an odd distance, as if the words spoken were
falling into emptiness.
As expected, the assemblage of admirals
selected to hear the case reacted not at all to the declaration. Instead, their
head, the venerable, soon-to-retire—or, rather, retire again—Admiral
Joseph Parker, acknowledged with a slight nod, and the brief, "Very well …
plea has been entered and recorded. The court will hear opening arguments
beginning Stardate 55447.8. Until that time, we stand
adjourned."
He brought the gavel down with what
would have passed for a convincing finality.
Phillipa knew, though, that for all of them, the
ordeal was just beginning.
***
Alynna Necheyev,
Commanding Admiral, Starfleet, had listened with an assumed impassivity as
Captain Janeway's defense team responded to the
charges.
Alynna smiled slightly, self-deprecatingly.
She'd known that it would probably have been best not to be present for the
arraignment; cultivating a certain detachment or neutrality to the unfolding
events would probably have been a better tactic.
But she'd found herself unable to do so.
Despite the volatility of the situation, and the manner in which its
disposition could imperil her own future plans, Necheyev
had come anyway.
They're my officers … my responsibility. I owe it to them,
at least, to be here.
Something of Alynna's
conflict must have invaded her expression; she caught FNN reporter Diane Dell
stealing a speculative glance … and just as quickly returning attention to a
lap-held PADD when Necheyev parried her look with a
less-than-companionable glare.
That woman. She's going to be trouble, despite my best
efforts.
She again considered the form those
efforts had already taken.
The two had faced off mere moments after
Necheyev's rather heated encounter with Phillipa Louvois, when the latter
had suddenly appeared in her office and unceremoniously arrested Kathryn Janeway.
"I know what you're going to say,
Admiral, and I have to decline," Dell had declared, rather emphatically,
in the immediate wake of Louvois' departure with her
prisoner. "This story is far too important for me to allow you to
keep it under wraps."
Time for the old soft-shoe, Alynna, she'd thought. Her smile as she'd turned was as genuine as 35 years of
Starfleet experience could contrive.
"I have no intention of
attempting to silence you, Diane. In fact," Necheyev
had continued, while making her deliberate way to the replicator, "I have
a proposition for you."
Dell was no fool, though, and had been
immediately on her guard.
"What would that be?"
she'd inquired cautiously.
"Tea, dear?" Starfleet's most
powerful officer had had no intention of rushing, now that she had the
floor… and a moment or two to think.
FNN's star reporter was too bright to be
taken in by Necheyev's grandmotherly façade, but it
did seem to throw her off stride a bit—just as the Fleet Admiral had desired.
"No, thank you."
Necheyev had simply sat again, as if they were
going to continue the interview.
Nonplused, Dell too, had reclaimed her
chair, realizing that there was but one way to proceed.
"You were saying," she'd
asked, "something about a 'proposition,' Admiral?"
***
If ever Phillipa
Louvois had regretted underestimating someone, it was
in reference to Alynna Necheyev.
When she'd glanced at the Commanding
Admiral's orders, she'd realized that the subtlety of the woman's machinations
were positively Byzantine… and that the playing field had just become far more treacherous
and unfriendly than it would have otherwise been had she foreseen this
particular tactic.
Her conversation with Necheyev in the wake of the instructions she'd received had
left her all too aware that she'd declared victory prematurely… and that
now, she'd pay the price for it.
Louvois had begun badly, but her incredulity
had left her reeling; no doubt the feeling was similar to what her superior had
experienced moments before.
"A gag order? You can't be
serious."
The face on her office view screen had
smiled with just enough self-satisfaction to be infuriating.
"Oh, I'm quite serious, Commodore. This trial
will be conducted behind closed doors, on the grounds of Starfleet
Headquarters. The press, other than Ms. Dell, of course, will know nothing about
it—until it's over, that is. And since you're oh so fond of using regulations
to your advantage, I'm sure you're aware that I'm… how did you put it?… 'well
within my purview' doing so.
"You'll make your case, Commodore Louvois… and Captain Janeway will
have her day in court, as you desired." The smile had then disappeared. "But I'll not
see Starfleet subjected to another circus like the Erika Donaldson trial
became—not when it's in my power to prevent it."
"Something of what's going
on is bound to get out, Admiral. This won't remain a secret.
Diane Dell…"
"…has agreed to write her account
of the trial as an exclusive for FNN, to be published only after the matter is settled. I
reminded her of the numerous…" Necheyev had
frowned momentarily, then brightened, "…security issues such a
trial would raise, and she graciously agreed to abide by my restrictions.
When the grin reappeared, it was
positively wintry.
"Insofar as you're concerned, Commodore, I don't need
your cooperation—since I command your obedience."
Now, as she left the arraignment
proceedings, Phillipa chided herself again.
You should never have left Dell alone
with Necheyev in that situation if you could avoid
it. The woman could leave a serpent tied in knots.
It hadn't taken the JAG officer long at
all to realize just how Necheyev must have
suborned the younger woman into a stance Louvois
would never have predicted.
She considered it again, even as she
walked silently through the halls of Starfleet Headquarters back to her suite
of offices.
It probably went something like,
"Diane, you have an opportunity the likes of which come along only once in
a generation or so. This trial could be the defining moment of your career. If
you simply wait to publish it, you can have an exclusive. What journalist could
pass on that opportunity?"
Satan, reflected Louvois
bitterly, always finds an angle.
***
"I knew they'd try something like
this!"
B'Elanna Torres didn't have what many would
categorize as a retiring disposition. She was, after all, half-Klingon: This
meant saying what she thought, precisely when it occurred to her… and damn
the conventions of tact and moderation.
This, though, had probably been the
wrong time and place for her customary candor.
Her husband managed not to wince, or
even react at all, other than to place a gently restraining hand on her arm,
and whisper, "B'Elanna…"
Her father-in-law, however, wasn't so
phlegmatic about it.
Instead, Vice Admiral Owen Paris glared
at her from across the expansive desk in his office, and replied with an
affronted, "And to whom, exactly, are you referring?"
It was yet another crisis moment in a
relationship that had been strained from its very beginnings only weeks ago.
The man caught between them sighed
inwardly.
You'd have thought motherhood would have
mellowed her just a bit, at least temporarily.
No such luck.
Drawing, not for the first time that
day, on mediator's skills he hadn't known he possessed, Tom Paris intervened before
the exchange could get out of hand—using an appeal he hoped would work on both.
"Stop it, you two! This isn't doing
Captain Janeway any good."
That, to his relief, silenced them both.
"Blaming Starfleet doesn't
help, and isn't fair," the younger
"Then why single out the
captain?" she
demanded.
It was the elder Paris who answered.
"Precisely because she's the
captain.
"She was the ultimate
authority," he explained. "The court of final appeal, as it were, for
seven years. She made more tough decisions than almost any other commander in
Starfleet history…"
"…and obviously someone thinks she
got a few things wrong," noted Tom sardonically.
Contrary to what many of his
subordinates—who'd affectionately nicknamed him "Rushmore"—might have
thought, Owen Paris was not without a sense of humor.
Right now, though, he wasn't amused.
"More than a few," he answered
grimly. "I've reviewed the charges… the prosecutor, Phillipa
Louvois, is really going for the jugular: She's
selected John Ross as co-counsel. He's one of the most brilliant and relentless
litigators in the JAG Corps. He wasn't in court today, but I have it from a
fairly reliable source that next week will be another matter entirely."
"Lawyers," B'Elanna
practically spat. "P'h'thk, one and
all."
Wryly, the admiral observed, "I'm
sure Captain Janeway's defense attorney would
appreciate that sentiment."
Before his wife could launch a
counter-offensive, Tom adroitly conceded, "Good point, Dad." To B'Elanna, he gently stressed, "Sometimes they're a necessary
evil."
"All right… fine," she acknowledged his
point with a curt reluctance that would have been construed as impolite had she
not been part-human, part-Klingon… and all B'Elanna.
With her typical engineer's pragmatism, she pressed forward with, "Well,
what about the captain's lawyer? She's not going to rely on a Sta–… on an attorney assigned by the people
trying to put her in prison, is she?"
Both
At least she's trying, Tom thought. Somehow he knew his father
felt the same way.
The admiral had an answer… but it was one
with which he didn't look happy.
"No.
"She's not."
***
Only a few months ago, Luciano Cicero
Mantovanni would have sacrificed a great deal for this particular view
from his ready room window: Earth, drenched in blue, swathed in clouds—that is,
in all her undiluted glory.
Now, however, he would have preferred to be elsewhere.
Behind him, the door to his sanctum
sanctorum opened; a moment later, he felt a presence at his side.
"Pensive is not a mood that
suits you."
The Sicilian's gaze didn't waver, but he
arched a brow slightly.
"Nor is it one I particularly
enjoy, Hatshepsut.
"Did T'Laris dispatch you to go
digging… or is this an independent expedition?"
The Felisian trilled gently; she was
clearly amused.
"Let's just say that your officers
are… concerned."
He allowed the silence to reign for a
long moment, and continued to enjoy the panoply of color before him. In a very
real sense, this was not his home world—the Sicilian had, after all, been
raised on Vulcan—but he could feel its power… and knew she could, as well.
Earth was special. Anyone who came here, who saw it this way, couldn't
deny that.
Move on with business, Hatshepsut, Mantovanni thought.
On cue, she did just that.
"It's my understanding that you
don't particularly like Captain Janeway,"
she began abruptly… hoping, no doubt, to stir some reaction from the
inscrutable man with whom she'd served now, for almost a decade.
He rewarded her with a marginal frown.
"I'm surprised T'Laris would
mention that; Romulans aren't usually known for their loquaciousness."
The Felisian's
whiskers twitched.
"No. Her loyalties are far more to
you personally than Starfleet, or even the rest of the senior staff. She's…
cordial, but hardly gregarious.
"Actually, it came up in
conversation almost two years ago." She withheld for a moment, and then
continued.
"I learned it from Kate
Sheridan."
The Sicilian smiled infinitesimally.
Kate.
Her very existence was, in his mind, an
indirect endorsement of Kathryn Janeway's inherent
goodness:
Later, a spatial anomaly Kate Sheridan
had encountered while piloting the Delta Flyer had changed her life
forever… hurling her and the doughty little vessel irretrievably into the
past—the past, unfortunately, of another quantum universe.
Our universe.
Now,
Stranger in a
strange land.
He was already bracing himself for one
of Hatshepsut's customarily incisive, irritating
analyses, when the intercom sounded.
"MacLeod to Mantovanni."
Hatshepsut's well-modulated purr rose an octave, and
wavered, in obvious frustration. She'd obviously planned on having more time to
"excavate."
Her captain suppressed a knowing smile,
and answered.
"Go ahead, Sera."
"You wanted a reminder that
Commodore Louvois is expecting you for a preliminary
discussion of your testimony at 1530 hours. It's 1510, now."
"Thank you, Commander.
"If you'll excuse me,
Counselor," he told her, managing to keep satisfaction—and, perhaps, a
hint of relief—from his tone: She knew him as a very few did, and he
simply didn't want to deal with her and Louvois
in succession. "I have a previous engagement."
Her unblinking gaze touched on something
of his perspective, though, and she wrapped her tail around his wrist for a
brief moment.
"Later?" she inquired with an atypical
intensity.
Again, he arched a brow.
"I didn't realize I was that
upset, M'Raav. You, however, are the counselor. 'Later' it is."
He left her in the ready room, staring
again at Earth…
…and not nearly, it seemed, so cheered
at the sight as she'd been.
***
Hardesty
Grover was tired... and this was, most emphatically, entirely too early
on in the proceedings to be experiencing that particular sensation.
It wasn’t a
literal exhaustion or fatigue that plagued him, so much as what one of his
favorite writers, J.R.R. Tolkien, had once called
being “weary of the world.”
Of course,
that was just a wonderfully poetic way of saying that Grover was old.
Even in the
days of organ transplants, bionic replacements, artificial enhancements, and
even—if one were willing—genetic supplementation, there were limits to a human
being’s longevity... and Grover was beginning to approach them. While there were
men and women active into their 120’s, they were the extreme exception rather
than the rule. Through a combination of good genes, great doctors, and sheer
determination, he'd managed to remain at the top of his profession decades
after most attorneys had been reduced to law journal philosophizing and
reflections on their past triumphs.
Fending off
the pretenders to his throne had become progressively more difficult, though.
There were now four generations of younger attorneys, hungry for their time at
the apex of an all too competitive profession... and Hardesty Grover had
prevented their ascent for nigh onto 50 years.
“Don’t look
back,” the legendary baseball player Satchel Paige had said over four centuries
ago. “Someone might be gaining on you.”
Here, now,
was the latest attorney to make his move.
“Opening
statements, please,” directed Admiral Joseph Parker. “The prosecution may
proceed.”
It was clear
from outset of the day’s events that both sides had brought their big guns to
bear: Lieutenant John Ross, son of Vice Admiral William Ross—“Smilin’ Jack” to friends and foes alike—rose from his seat
next to Phillipa Louvois
and took center stage.
Ross was a
slender man, but commanded the attention of all in the room immediately; he had
a quality of intensity that was compelling without being off-putting. His
blond, boyish good looks completed a package tailor-made to turn heads, win
hearts and move minds.
The
relatively small size of a courtroom that didn’t have to allow for either
interested onlookers or innumerable members of the media permitted an intimacy
that promised for a simmering intensity throughout... and Starfleet’s youthful
prosecutor looked to take immediate advantage.
“Admirals,
Mr. Grover... Good morning.” He flashed a brilliant smile to the defense
attorney—who returned it with a companionable thoughtfulness.
“I have an
unenviable task—to press a case against the woman who has become, over the last
few years, a living legend throughout the Federation. It is not a duty I regard
lightly, or undertake readily.
“It is,
however, a necessary one. For despite her many heroic actions and brilliant
decisions during a lengthy stint as commander of USS Voyager, Captain
Kathryn Janeway has, interspersed with those, a
number of questionable ones..." Ross paused for effect, then continued.
“...and a few
that are inexcusable.
“The
prosecution will show that Captain Kathryn Janeway
knowingly gave aid and comfort to the Federation’s deadliest enemy. It will
make evident that she employed psychological torture and inappropriate
coercion—in more than one instance. In addition, it will establish that she, in
her actions against one Lieutenant Commander Tuvix,
committed murder in the first degree.” He glanced coolly at the defendant, who,
despite her best efforts, had reacted with a tightening of the jaw as the
charges were laid out.
“Ultimately,
it will illustrate—with irrefutable strokes—the career of a woman who,
while often inspired and clearly decisive, has, by dint of her own actions,
made herself unfit to wear a Starfleet uniform.
“Thank you.”
For a long
moment, Admiral Joseph Parker didn’t react, as if he were having difficulty
processing what he’d heard. The venerable old officer—a legend in his own
right, and flanked by the equally famous Vice Admiral T'Kara
and the up-and-coming young Rear Admiral March Patterson—finally gestured
slightly to Hardesty Grover, stating, “And now the defense.”
In what might
have been a calculated gesture, the distinguished barrister reassuringly
squeezed the hand of his client, and then, with what looked to be some
difficulty, rose and made his careful way into the figurative spotlight.
Grover smiled
inwardly, and evaluated his opponent's opening.
Brief...
eloquent... subtly persuasive... but with your cards held close to the vest.
Well done,
young man.
“Esteemed
Admirals, Commodore Louvois, Lieutenant Ross... Good
morning.” He chuckled self-effacingly. “Then again, as we old men are wont to
say, any morning you’re still breathing is a good morning.”
It wasn’t
exactly incisive humor... but it worked from a man of his advanced years,
lightening the atmosphere momentarily. Joe Parker shook his head, grinning...
he was pushing 90 himself, and while he might not feel the immediacy of his
existence in the way Hardesty Grover did, it was a consideration for him, too.
“I find
myself forced to concur, in large part, with young Lieutenant Ross’ assessment
of my client.” He dispelled the momentary confusion a moment later, by adding,
“She is heroic. She is brilliant. And she has, indeed,
become a legend. As to the rest, well... I’ll politely disagree.”
He commented
on each of Ross’ charges, gesturing with a subtle emphasis learned in a century
of practicing, and mastering, the law.
“Giving aid
and comfort to the enemy? Hardly. A brilliant stratagem that weakened not one,
but two of the Federation’s deadliest foes would be more accurate.
Psychological torture and coercion? Present a single witness or a victim in
either case, and I’ll consider it. And, finally...
“The
liberation of her two comrades from their... imprisonment... within the
artificial construct Tuvix is being labeled by the
prosecution as murder in the first degree.” His voice took on an edge of
disdain. “That is, quite simply, preposterous—as expert testimony will confirm.
“Ultimately,
the defense will show: that the veritable plethora of charges against my client
are notable far more for their quantity than their substance… that Kathryn Janeway is a woman of exemplary character and extraordinary
abilities... and that Starfleet, in perhaps its entire history, has produced no
captain who has endured so much, under such conditions, so successfully.
“Thank you.”
As he hobbled his way back to the
defense table, Hardesty Grover caught John Ross' eye for just a moment… and
recognized that he was wary of his foe…
…but all too eager for the fray.
***
"I know you're upset, Commander,
but this is necessary."
The woman at whom the admonishment was
directed, though, didn't see it that way. She ran a hand through her
golden hair, pushing it away from a face that Louvois
found, in its way, disturbingly familiar.
"Commodore Louvois,"
Kate Sheridan practically begged,
"I've come a long way to see my m–… to see Captain Janeway,
and I have to see her.
"I'm going to see her."
The assistant JAG took a deep breath.
USS Argus' first officer might be thinking with her heart and not her
head, but to dismiss her out of hand, considering the situation, would have
been cruel.
And while Phillipa
thought herself ruthless, she liked to think she hadn't crossed the border into
cruelty—yet.
She had cut the orders that had required
Sheridan to report immediately to the JAG office upon her return to Earth,
rather than, as Louvois had known she would have
otherwise done, head directly for a reunion—or confrontation—with the woman
who, if things had been just a little different, would be her mother.
They were mother and daughter in
all but the most literal sense, separated by the slenderest of quantum threads.
That made what Phillipa said next even more
difficult.
She shied away from it, however, not at
all.
"You're reacting emotionally,
Commander… which is understandable, and even excusable…" her voice then
took on a more rigid timbre," …but not tolerable, if it jeopardizes
my ability to conduct the prosecution's case one iota. Like it or not, you are
on the list of possible witnesses… thus, I cannot allow you to
communicate with Captain Janeway in any
fashion for the duration of this trial. I would very much hate to bring you up
on charges… but make no mistake, I'll do what I have to do in the pursuit of
my…"
"…vendetta?" finished
It was both immature and unprofessional
in the extreme… yet Louvois refused to summon forth
the indignation that was clearly her right in the wake of such an insult.
She pushed away from her desk, tilted
the chair back, reclining momentarily, and answered with, "No. I have
nothing against Captain Janeway, Commander. What I do
have, though…"
She leaned forward again.
"…is a case."
***
The devil's
in the details.
Hardesty Grover
idly pondered the origin of that particular observation—pondered, and failed to
recall—even as he rubbed weary eyes and reached again for the object that had
served as his font of wisdom and inspiration since he'd first started
practicing law at Cogley & Shaw 94
years ago.
His
innumerable succession of harried law clerks all learned early on in their
apprenticeship to keep the weathered old coffee container filled with a Turkish
blend Grover had happened upon one night whilst bleary-eyed from study, and
desperate for rejuvenation.
Devil's Brew, he thought, after half-draining the
mug, and smiled wryly.
Let's say
"Fountain of Youth" instead.
It had been,
ironically enough, Kathryn Janeway's addiction to
coffee that had put the two immediately at companionable ease when first they'd
met: On less tangible connections had winning combinations been formed, after
all. The fact they'd both preferred the stuff black and strong had merely
confirmed their opinion of the other's judgment.
Grover
glanced at the wall chronometer: 0137. He idly wondered whether his client was
propped up with her own "cup 'o Joe," or sleeping the sleep of…
"Objection,
Counselor," he ventured aloud to himself. "Calls for a conclusion.
It's your job to demonstrate that she's one of 'the just.'"
For three
weeks, opposing counsel had called witnesses, heard testimony both expert and
subjective, and engaged in rhetoric that would have given pause to Demosthenes
himself… all in reference to the four Prime Directive violations with which Louvois had seen fit to charge his client. It had been
exhaustive, and exhausting.
Grover
glanced at his quarters' small bookshelf of personal literary favorites… and,
on this of all nights, immediately spotted The
Devil and Daniel Webster.
I seem to be
returning again and again to Satanic themes this evening, he thought, and chided himself
for having followed such an oddly disturbing tangent, consciously or not.
After all,
you're not exactly risking your immortal soul for this woman, Hardesty. You're
getting melodramatic in y–… in the dead of night.
Grover had
always had a sense of when the "trial within the trial" was about to
begin… when the groundwork had been laid, and the incidentals set aside. That
time was soon upon him.
Like the
compulsories at a figure skating competition. Critical, but not exactly exciting. Tomorrow, though, the short
and long programs begin.
The
prosecution was scheduled, at 0930, to begin calling its witnesses as pertained
to the criminal charges that had been leveled. Ross and Louvois,
until now, had conducted themselves calmly, civilly… but without the intensity
of conviction he'd anticipated from two such reputed litigators.
Perhaps
they're pacing themselves. Hardesty. They've certainly got you on stamina.
Then he
laughed as, despite himself, he thought, Devilishly clever of them.
***
"The
prosecution calls Luciano Mantovanni."
Diane Dell
noted that the legendary captain's appearance garnered more than a few
noticeable reactions as he made his way to the witness stand. She keyed what
were, for now at least, her private observations into the specially
configured PADD that had been her constant companion and confidante for over
two months now.
There was
some sort of procedural delay at that point, an administrative matter that had
the attorneys at sidebar with Admiral Parker. During the lull, she typed:
He's a striking figure.
The qualities all starship captains possess seem
distilled in Mantovanni. He's intense; he sits with what at least looks like
a relaxed pose in the witness stand… but for obvious reasons, I wouldn't call
it "at ease."
Even the presiding admirals don't seem immune to his
influence: While Vice Admiral T'Kara is impassive, as
I'd expect from a Vulcan, Admiral Parker, if I'm not mistaken, smiled slightly
as he and Mantovanni exchanged glances.
Rear Admiral March Patterson's reaction was much the
reverse. Clearly he and Captain Mantovanni have met before, and aren't
very fond of each other. [Note: Dig around after all this is over and see why
these two have bad bloo–
Her attention
was drawn back as the trial resumed.
The bailiff,
a burly old marine master sergeant, rumbled, "Raise your right hand,
sir." After Mantovanni complied, he recited, "Do you affirm on your
oath as a Starfleet officer and by the Powers and Principles you hold dear that
your testimony will be truthful and complete to the best of your
knowledge?"
"I
do."
"Please
be seated, sir; state your full name, rank, and current billet for the
record."
"Luciano Cicero Mantovanni, Captain, Commanding Officer, Federation
starship
Which card
will they play? wondered
Dell.
When it was Louvois who stood to question him, she answered herself, Queen
of Swords.
"Captain,"
she began, "you've held the center seat on four Federation starships
during your career, is that correct?"
"Yes."
He hesitated. Dell noted that he was practically glowering, and wondered why.
Eventually,
though, he continued with, "I, in succession, commanded the Miranda-class
USS Liberty, the Constitution-class USS Intrepid, the Akira-class
USS Alexios Komnenos,
and now the Sovereign-class
"You're
acknowledged an expert on ship-to-ship combat tactics by Starfleet, is that not
true?"
Now he gave a
reply that was clearly not scripted.
"That's
a question for Starfleet… not me."
Oh, boy, Dell thought wonderingly. I just
realized why he's hesitating: He doesn't want to be here.
Louvois, instead of
expressing annoyance, merely inclined her head and smiled.
"The
captain's accomplishments are a matter of record; Starfleet's opinion of his
expertise is well-documented. I assume the defense will acknowledge that?"
Grover, from
his seat, waved an acceptance.
"The
defense will so stipulate."
Louvois turned back
to Mantovanni.
"And
you're one of the few starship captains who's had more than one encounter with
the Borg?" she asked.
"Yes."
Sighing
slightly, Starfleet's Assistant JAG nudged, "Could you be a little more specific,
Captain?"
"I've
been involved in three such incidents: The first was while I commanded the Alexios Komnenos;
she was one of the ships that participated in the defense of Earth when a Borg
cube invaded Federation space a few years ago.
"The other
two incidents remain classified."
Louvois nodded.
"So it's
safe to say that you have extensive experience with the Borg?"
Grover
reacted to that.
"Objection
to the adjective 'extensive,' Admirals… that's a highly subjective
term."
Parker
considered that momentarily, and then ruled, "Sustained."
"Allow
me to rephrase," Louvois conceded. "You
have more experience than all but a mere handful of Federation starship
captains, insofar as number of encounters with the Borg are concerned, Captain.
Is that not so?"
Mantovanni
responded with a succinct, "It is."
"You've
also had an opportunity to examine USS Voyager's logs at length, and
have done so?"
Again, Dell
got the sense that Mantovanni was tempted to say something other than what was
eventually heard.
"I have,
and I did."
"I refer
you to those from the period on and around Stardate
51003. Are you familiar with the events contained therein?"
Now he gave a
reply more clearly indicating his true feelings.
"Insofar
as anyone who wasn't present can be familiar with what occurred, yes."
That
obviously wasn't precisely the answer Louvois had
been expecting. She strode back to the prosecution's table and engaged in a
brief but intense conversation with John Ross, who gestured once or twice in
Mantovanni's direction. Dell briefly toyed with the idea of trying to turn up
the gain on her PADD and listen in… but a quick glance around the courtroom
left her momentarily transfixed by the forbidding gaze of Alynna
Necheyev—who, Dell had no doubt, knew exactly
what she'd been thinking.
Damn it,
that woman is everywhere.
A thought
occurred to the journalist then, and she wrote:
There's
an elite fraternity of Starfleet captains. They're a rare breed, no denying…
and they stick together. As his testimony progresses, it's becoming clear that
Captain Mantovanni isn't exactly enthusiastic about testifying against
Captain Janeway.
Abruptly, Louvois turned back and continued her questioning.
"You
read about USS Voyager's first series of encounters with Species
8472?"
"Yes."
"In your
expert opinion," she inquired, stressing the word slightly,
"did Captain Janeway handle the incident
properly?"
"I don't
know."
Exasperation
clouded Louvois' features, and her temper frayed
momentarily.
"Admiral,
permission to treat the witness as hostile."
Parker
frowned… and Grover acted.
"Objection!
She called him, Admiral. If Commodore Louvois wants
to treat her own witnesses as hostile, I'd have to categorize her as
downright antisocial."
The scattered
laughter from the gallery didn't endear Grover to Louvois
any more than the previous two months of comments had.
"Admiral,"
she gritted, "could you please instruct opposing counsel to restrain his
sarcasm? This is a courtroom, not a comedy club."
"Mr.
Grover…" Parker warned, "…your antics are becoming progressively less
amusing."
The venerable
attorney grinned, almost impudently, and replied, "I might dispute that,
Admiral, judging by the courtroom's response, but I take your meaning. I
apologize to Commodore Louvois and the tribunal
members."
He was an old
man… and old men get away with things. There was no way around that in polite
society.
"Sidebar,
Admiral?" Louvois requested.
As the
attorneys again huddled with Joseph Parker, Diane Dell noted something odd:
Despite his seeming reluctance here—a reluctance that was almost certainly to
the advantage of Kathryn Janeway—Luciano Mantovanni
was scrupulously avoiding any eye contact with the defendant. And she was
certainly trying to establish it, from what Dell could see.
Interesting.
"I'll
put it another way," Louvois said, as she
resumed her questioning. "Would you have handled it in the manner she
did?"
"No."
"What,
then, would you have done?"
"I would
probably have allowed Species 8472 and the Borg to continue fighting among
themselves without interference."
"Why?"
Louvois prodded.
Mantovanni's
answer was brutally candid.
"The
Borg are an enormous threat to the Federation… and while my utter lack of
sympathy for them probably doesn't reflect well on me, I'm completely
unapologetic about it. Species 8472 was, as an old friend of mine used to say,
'doing a job on them,' and the fact that the Borg were on the ropes was a
situation that could only benefit the Federation."
"I
see." Louvois pondered that for a moment… or,
rather, let the gallery ponder it. "What about Captain Janeway's
conviction that Species 8472 was more dangerous than the Borg?"
"It was
incorrect," Mantovanni asserted.
"What
brings you to that conclusion?"
"Her own
statements. During a staff meeting, the logs of which are a matter of Starfleet
record, Captain Janeway mentioned something to the
effect of, 'The Borg assimilate. We investigate… and that's given us an
advantage.'"
"I don't
understand. Could you explain further?"
Clearly he
didn't want to do so, but proceeded anyway.
"Captain
Janeway's conclusion about Species 8472 was logically
flawed. They couldn't possibly have been more dangerous than the Borg if
only a few days of research enabled Voyager's crew to find a viable
tactical option against them—which is not to denigrate their achievement is so
doing."
"So you
would have denied the Borg the nano-technological
advance Captain Janeway provided them in exchange for
passage through their space."
"Yes."
Now Louvois asked a question Dell thought particularly
incisive.
"To what
lengths would you have gone to deny the Borg this information?"
Mantovanni
turned his formidable gaze full on her: It was rife with conviction.
"If it
had become necessary, I would have destroyed my ship and every member of my
crew."
Now her
questions took on a different motivation, as Phillipa
Louvois looked to steal some of the thunder from
Grover's cross-examination.
"But
what if the Borg had lost, as seems almost certain from the presentation
of the facts? Species 8472 had vowed to 'purge' our galaxy of life… and you
have to agree, their weaponry is formidable."
"Other
than the Borg, Counselor, we live in a galaxy full of beings who are
imaginative, determined, and clever. I refuse to believe that no other group of
people would have, just as Voyager's personnel did, stumbled onto or
researched a weapon similar to the nano-probe
torpedoes that proved so effective in their final encounter with 8472."
"But,
Captain, in their first meeting, Species 8472 attacked Voyager, and
heavily damaged her."
"They
were justified."
Now even Louvois looked taken aback.
"How
so?"
"Look at
it from Species 8472's perspective: They're engaged in a war with a 'race'
that's unremittingly hostile and quite powerful. During a battle with a Borg
cube, one of their vessels collides with it and is damaged. In the midst of
said encounter, as he is no doubt fighting for his life, the pilot of the ship
finds nosy little aliens poking around on, perhaps even sabotaging, his already
damaged craft. While Starfleet officers might take the time to talk during such
an incident, it's entirely reasonable to assume that the pilot of that ship
reacted to protect his vessel and drive off the invaders.
"Wouldn't
you? Wouldn't you then fire on the retreating vessel? You'd found them aboard
your ship, having gained access without leave, attempting to learn about your
technology… during a war. Destroying them before they could retreat and
use whatever information they'd gleaned against you would be your duty.
"Later,
you encounter Voyager in close formation with another Borg cube…
thereby precluding, in your collective minds—no pun intended—any possibility
that they aren't in cahoots with the evil creatures you're fighting. I'm just
curious as to what conclusion these people were supposed to draw.
Species 8472 reacted in the only reasonable fashion open to them: They treated Voyager
and her crew as foes because, clearly, they were."
"Thank
you, Captain." Louvois turned back towards the
prosecution's table, then reconsidered and shifted her pose back towards
Mantovanni.
"A few
other questions, Captain: Using your tactical expertise in examining Captain Janeway's plan and actions, what would you conclude her
motivations were?"
"Objection!"
Grover promptly challenged. "Even an expert witness can't speak to another
person's motivations."
"But he can,"
Louvois countered, "examine her decisions and
actions and draw a conclusion based upon those."
This time
Joseph Parker pondered his response for a longer period of time. Rear Admiral
March Patterson leaned over to consult with him. Finally, the older man
decided, "The objection is overruled. The witness may answer."
Mantovanni
did so.
"I would
assume she saw that circumstance allowed for a golden opportunity to navigate
Borg space unhindered—and unassimilated—and that this chance was incredibly
alluring."
Louvois pounced on
that.
"Would
you categorize Captain Janeway's subsequent actions
as giving aid and comfort to the enemy?"
Everyone had
known this question was eventually coming.
Mantovanni
didn't hesitate.
"Without
question, I would."
Dell jotted:
Mantovanni's
testimony was eloquent… and damning. It'll be interesting to see what tact
Grover uses to discredit him—if that's even possible.
Louvois returned to
her seat.
"Prosecution
reserves the right to recall the witness, but I have nothing further at this
time."
Admiral
Parker glanced to Grover.
"Cross?"
Grover took
his time first standing, and then hobbling over to Mantovanni. Dell found
herself sympathizing, but quashed it; that was obviously the canny old
attorney's motivation. She'd seen him walk with greater ease once or twice, and
knew he was playing the card for all it was worth.
"Good
morning, Captain."
Mantovanni
inclined his head. "Mr. Grover."
"I hope
you'll be patient; I have a few questions for you.
"Captain,
would you consider it fair to say you had very little experience when you
received your first ship?"
Mantovanni
arched a brow. "That's why they call it your first ship,
Counselor."
There was
scattered laughter from the gallery, and Grover smiled, almost indulgently.
"Of
course, Captain. I misspoke myself. Allow me to rephrase: Were you not, at the
time, the youngest captain in Starfleet history?"
"Not
precisely," Mantovanni replied. "James Kirk achieved the rank
of captain faster than any other individual; that record stood until Captain Tryla Scott only a decade-and-a-half or so ago. I earned
the title of captain when still a full commander, at age 29… and, at
that time, was the youngest person ever placed in permanent command of a
capital starship."
"In
point of fact, though, the number of years you've spent in actual command of a starship
is surprisingly small. How long did you command the original
"Around
two years," Mantovanni answered.
"And she
was destroyed under your command, is that correct?"
Now, for the
first time, the Sicilian's expression changed: He was noticeably affected at
the memory.
"Yes…
by the Romulans."
"And
your next command, Intrepid?"
Mantovanni
smiled slightly.
"Chronologically,
69 years. In actuality, just over one."
Grover's
expression remained "country Grandpa" friendly, but no one in the
courtroom was fooled by it.
"Then
there was Alexios Komnenos.
You never brought her back, either, did you?"
"Objection,"
Ross interjected. "This line of inquiry has no bearing on the matters in
question here."
"I respectfully
disagree; it goes to the witness' motivations and credibility, Admiral."
Surprisingly,
for the first time, it wasn't Admiral Parker who replied; March Patterson spoke
instead.
He first told
Ross, "Overruled," then indicated to Grover, "A little
more latitude, Counselor… but not much."
Lastly, he
addressed Mantovanni.
"Please
answer the question, Captain."
Wow. These
guys can't stand each
other, Dell thought. There's gotta be a story
here.
"Alexios was destroyed during a classified
mission," Mantovanni confirmed.
"Of
course, I understand Starfleet's need to maintain confidentiality in certain
circumstances," Grover allowed, "but I'll have to ask the
court to allow Captain Mantovanni a little more specificity. Captain, did the
mission in which Alexios was destroyed involve
the Borg?"
This time, it
was Vice Admiral T'Kara who intervened.
"You may
answer the question, Captain."
Mantovanni
nodded grimly.
"It
did."
"Then I
can certainly understand your dislike for them… and perhaps, also, your
resentment for a woman who brought her ship back from numerous encounters with
an enemy that destroyed yours."
"Objection!"
Grover
quickly appended, "Withdrawn."
The point, though,
had been made. It might not be the case, but it certainly had everyone
thinking.
Then the
clever old attorney stunned them all.
"Captain
Mantovanni… did you or did you not, in defiance of Starfleet regulations,
participate in a conspiracy to allow the clone of Jonozia
Thompson, host of the Lex symbiont,
to retain the position of captain on the USS Argus even after the
original Jonozia host had been killed?"
"Objection…
relevance! Move to strike, and for an immediate mistrial!" Ross yelled.
Parker stood, and growled, "Chambers…
now!"
Diane Dell sighed.
Damn. I'm missing all the good stuff.
***
"He
should be disbarred for that stunt!"
Phillipa Louvois was beyond livid. She was practically petrified
with indignation.
Judges,
attorneys, defendant, and even witness had reassembled in a chamber adjoining
the courtroom—away from the prying eyes of both interested onlookers… and very
interested onlookers.
"I fail
to see why you're so agitated, Counselor," Grover drawled. "In fact,
the only person who might have some justification for genuine outrage seems
rather… composed."
Mantovanni's
expression wavered not at all.
"You
think that just because you've been doing this for years that the rules don't
apply to you?" Louvois was almost red-faced as she faced off with her
counterpart.
It was in
that moment that the entire complexion of the confrontation changed.
"What
'rules'?" Grover
asked, clearly exasperated. "What are you blathering about, Counselor?
Don't try to pretend you're surprised by evidence with which your own office
supplied me."
To say that
Ross and Louvois looked dumbfounded was the
understatement of the 24th century.
Drolly,
Mantovanni observed, "I daresay Peter hasn't been coordinating with Paul
as fully as he should."
Starfleet's
assistant JAG shook her head, as if hoping to rattle something back into place.
"Counselor, are you actually saying that someone from my office
disclosed this information to you?"
Now Grover,
too, realized what must have occurred.
"Oh, dear...
and you didn't authorize it."
"'Authorize
it?'" she echoed indignantly. "Until three minutes ago, I
didn't even know about it!"
For a moment,
no one had any idea what to say.
Finally, the
Vulcan T'Kara broke the perplexed silence.
"It
seems obvious, Mr. Grover, that someone with a hidden purpose gave access to
said information," she speculated. "That purpose, however, remains a
mystery."
Joseph Parker
put an end to that train of thought before it could even gather steam,
and put them back on the proper track.
"Be
that as it may… I don't see sufficient cause for a mistrial, especially at
this late date. I have complete faith in the presiding officers to put aside
that statement and regard Captain Mantovanni's testimony with the weight and
significance it warrants. Your objection, however, Lieutenant Ross, is
sustained. This subject will not be mentioned in open court again, by
either side, under penalty of contempt."
Phillipa Louvois took his momentary pause as an opportunity.
"Considering
the events of the past few moments, the prosecution requests a continuance,
that I might investigate the circumstances around the… revelation… as pertains
to this trial."
The three
admirals exchanged glances, and March Patterson nodded.
"Agreed.
The matter is continued for 72 hours. We'll expect your report before then,
Commodore."
"Aye,
sir," she acknowledged.
Parker was
satisfied… or, at least, mollified.
"We'll
reconvene to make the announcement in a few moments; until then, you're all
excused. Mr. Grover, a moment, please. Admirals, I'll join you shortly."
Patterson was taken aback by the dismissal, and even T'Kara
arched a brow, but both complied without comment.
The moment
the door had closed behind him, Parker turned his complete attention to the
room's only other occupant.
"I'm not
entirely certain as to whether you were truly innocent in all this, but make no
mistake on this point, Mr. Grover: You've been flirting with the borders of
contempt for almost a month now. My patience is exhausted."
"Admiral,
I…"
"Shut
up," Parker
snapped.
Grover did
so, huffily.
"If you
even vaguely approach the periphery of indiscretion for the remainder of
this proceeding, you and your client have had it; instead of declaring a mistrial,
I'll dismiss the tribunal, disbar you, and dispose of the case myself."
"That
wouldn't be prudent, sir."
In response
to that, Joseph Parker laughed.
It was
genuine, and contagious; despite the gravity of the situation, Grover almost
smiled.
"How do
you mean? Politically? I may not be 117 years old, Counselor, but I,
too, am an old man with nothing to lose. Ninety-something four-star admirals
aren't exactly upwardly mobile.
"Why do
you think I ended up presiding over this tribunal?"
The older man
contemplated that momentarily.
"Probably
for the same reason I did, Admiral: To go out with a flourish."
Parker folded
his arms in satisfaction.
"I thought we understood one
another."
***
Diane Dell had
listened with an ever-increasing admixture of dismay and delight as the trial
had progressed: The lawyers on both sides were living on the edge, dancing at
the borders of contempt and mistrial. All, though, had managed to remain on the
right side of the issues… or, at least, had ducked back to it before Admiral
Parker had decided to discipline them.
That didn't
mean, though, that he'd let the trial become a show: On five separate occasions
over the two weeks since attorney Grover had directed that startling accusation
at Captain Mantovanni, opposing counsel had been either called to chambers or
requested such a meeting themselves. This, of course, meant that Dell knew
little or nothing of what had occurred there.
She could
nearly grasp her frustration; it was that tangible. Diane knew that one
side or the other had been, on those occasions, about to disclose information
that would have given her real leads on stories she could pursue for the next
five or ten years—stories that would earn her a Pulitzer… or even more than
one.
There had
been, in those weeks, a veritable plethora of witnesses—especially for the
defense. Voyager's entire command staff, and some of her crew, had taken
the stand at one point or another; each of those called had attested to the character
of Kathryn Janeway—that they'd follow her to hell and
beyond. Seven of Nine's testimony on her captain's behalf had been, in its way,
even more persuasive than had Captain Mantovanni's… neither Ross nor Louvois, though, had chosen to cut into her statements—yet.
The
cross-examinations in most cases had been brief, provocative, and designed by
the prosecution, Dell realized, to show what had become a recurring theme: The
very fact of Chakotay's crew being included in Voyager's
had resulted in a ship that was, despite Captain Janeway's
insistence, not a Starfleet vessel, but one at least somewhat influenced
by the "ends justify the means" mentality personified in so many Maquis—that a portion of the reason they liked her so much
was that they'd, at least in part, made her over in their image. Dell wasn't
certain the Starfleet attorneys had succeeded in their goal of undermining all
the character attestations, but one thing was sure: John Ross and B'Elanna Torres wouldn't be having dinner together any time
soon.
What had been
most telling to Dell, though, was that, in each case, the prosecution
had reserved the right to recall the witnesses later, during its rebuttal
phase.
Things were
percolating again… and Dell was growing impatient with the entire affair.
Finally,
she'd decided to act, and actively pursue the lone story she could—that of
Luciano Mantovanni and the stunning revelation about Jonozia
Lex. Rather than devoting the weekend to collecting
her thoughts and collating her trial notes, as she'd done for the last
four-and-a-half months, she'd instead written a brief article for FNN,
referring to the legendary captain's supposed indiscretion as related to the
parasite incident, and prepared to submit it. Just to cover all her bases, she
sent a communiqué to the USS Liberty, then in dry-dock undergoing a
refit, and waited for an inevitable response denying her the exclusive
interview she'd so audaciously requested.
When the
brief reply—the one inviting her aboard—had come, she'd nearly choked on her
surprise.
Almost, she'd asked to bring a camera… but
decided in the last moment that was pushing even her luck.
Even as the
door closed behind her, and she got a good look at his eloquently Spartan ready
room, Diane Dell decided to take a tough stance.
"I hope
you're prepared for some hard questions, Captain."
Luciano
Mantovanni's expression remained inscrutable.
"Respectfully,
Ms. Dell… I was the one who invited you here."
She conceded
that with, "True enough"… and then leaned forward, trying simultaneously
to convey journalistic neutrality, professional interest, and genuine respect
in her own facial cast.
"Tell me
what happened," she invited.
And so, he
did.
When he was
done, nearly an hour later, Diane Dell was again struggling with her amazement.
My God… this
man's put his career in my hands.
She had no
illusions that she could disgrace and break him in the court of public opinion
if she so chose: All pretension aside, her influence throughout the Federation
was immense. Her words had more influence than those of most UFP council
members… and she was unafraid to use that power if she deemed it necessary, and
responsible.
All right,
let's see just what got him to this point.
"From
what you said, Dr. Matsuoka made the original choice."
That observation
seemed to trouble him.
"No. I
made the decision that got Jonozia killed, and I
made the decision, finally, to go ahead with the cloning procedure,"
Mantovanni insisted. "Despite Shiro's claim of
absolute authority and ultimate responsibility, if I thought he'd done wrong, I
would have considered euthanizing the clone before it was viable."
He's trying
to protect everyone else, even while he gives himself up. Interesting.
"Well,"
she replied, "I guess there's a certain symmetry to that sort of 'giveth and taketh away,' Captain…
if you're the Lord God, that is. But you're a captain in the Federation
Starfleet, and answerable for your actions… or do you imagine yourself above
that? I'm going to assume—for the sake of argument—that even your ego
doesn't ascend to such heights."
He offered no
response to her acerbic observation, but instead stayed doggedly on the
subject.
"I had
an option that enabled me to save the Lex symbiont, and I took it. It would have died if we
hadn't cloned Jonozia."
"If that
was, indeed, your sole motivation, well… that'll come out here, won't it?"
she asked; it was clearly supposed to be a rhetorical question.
Mantovanni
took the opportunity to answer.
"That
depends entirely on whether you're more interested in the truth… or a story.
Take care, Ms. Dell. Your pen's starting to drip yellow."
Inwardly,
Diane smiled. You really don't have much regard for either other people
feelings, or your own, do you?
She didn't
relent, though… and gave him a glare that attempted to imply righteous
indignation—even when feeling nothing of the sort.
"We'll
let the facts decide concerning your actions and leave my interests
aside. If your lone inspiration was the saving of a life, Captain, why has everyone
been so close-mouthed about it since then? You, Doctor Matsuoka,
Commanders Sheridan and Benteen... all of you had
knowledge of what occurred. Why didn’t you report to Starfleet what had
happened? Why did you lie?”
“I did not
lie to Starfleet,” Mantovanni asserted firmly.
“A lie of
omission is still a lie, Captain. You did not fully disclose what had
occurred. Is that true?”
The Sicilian
answered with a nod.
"So
then, you decided to disobey regulations, because you thought the ends
justified the means. You exercised your own judgment, in defiance of the rules,
to preserve the Lex symbiont's
career." Her tone took on the hint of unbelief. "You can't tell
me you would have done that if he hadn't been your friend… and lover, once,
when he was a she—Saren Lex."
She'd hoped
to catch him off guard with her knowledge of their past romantic relationship,
but Mantovanni took it in stride.
"Don't
assume I'd underestimate you, Ms. Dell. I'm certain you've earned your
reputation."
Noted, she thought.
"How is what
you did radically different than what Captain Janeway
did with Tuvix?" Dell inquired pointedly.
"You both made decisions in a critical situation; you both acted to
preserve life; you both made a choice that sent someone to their death."
Now
Mantovanni arched a brow.
"When
did I say what we'd done was radically different?" For a moment she
thought he was done, then he let his true perspective be known.
"I could
point out, Ms. Dell, that my decision to send Jonozia
aboard the parasite mother ship was based on an urgent need for data and
intelligence on them, and that Jonozia agreed
with me once his emotions had been put aside. I could point out that my
decision to clone the Jonozia host for the Lex symbiont had the consequence
of saving a being who'd lived for over a century—one possessing a vast
repository of wisdom and knowledge invaluable to the Federation. I could point
out that my decision to not inform Starfleet Command was based on my
interpretation of the spirit of these regulations, as opposed to their letter:
Those regs are in place to prevent beings from
claiming serial immortality and acquiring the power derived thereof. In this
case, it was used to preserve a life cut short tragically and heroically—to
give a wife back her husband, to give a ship back its captain, and…"
"…to
give you back your friend and former lover?" she concluded.
He merely
arched a brow.
"If you
wish, I'll acknowledge that my friendship with Jonozia
Lex caused me to consider the cloning option fully. I
like to think I'd have taken the compassionate direction in any case, but since
I've never been placed in that situation before or since, I can't speak with
certainty.
"As for
Captain Janeway, her decisions are ultimately between
her and God."
Every attempt
to rattle him had failed. It seemed he was truly unflappable—when he chose to
be.
Dell wasn't
quite finished, though.
"That still
doesn't answer the ultimate question of why you chose to keep this
from Starfleet."
He took a deep
breath, exhaled, and then answered with distilled candor.
"I
determined that informing Starfleet could only end in disaster, if they
chose to make the decision I deemed was morally and ethically wrong, but
politically and bureaucratically expedient. I decided, 'No victim, no crime.'
Perhaps that was wrong, but I stand firmly by my decision… and I'm willing to
accept the responsibilities of that decision—even as Captain Janeway, I'm certain, is willing to accept those of hers.
"To me,
it was worth the risk."
He stood, and
gestured to the door.
"I hope you got what you
wanted."
***
Phillipa Louvois was compelled to admit that Hardesty Grover
deserved his reputation. In the abstract, she would actually have enjoyed
watching him work… if he hadn't been working against her, that is.
Her mind was
awhirl with the brilliant exchanges between attorneys and witnesses that had
made this trial one of the most memorable with which she'd ever been involved.
Everyone had gotten in telling blows… and, to be frank, she wasn't even certain
who was ahead on points anymore.
Now, as the
trial's final days loomed before her, she found herself reliving the best—and
worst—moments in her mind's eye:
·
Annika Hansen
scoring a major hit on the prosecution when she'd politely, but determinedly,
interrupted John Ross, who'd referred to her as "Seven" during a
cross-examination:
"My
name," she'd told
him proudly, "is Annika."
Hardesty
Grover had taken full advantage of her beauty, grace, and forthrightness on the
stand, and given the Borg—the implacable, merciless enemy—a face… a human face.
It had been a
sight to see.
·
That same
John Ross recovering to so rattle B'Elanna
Torres on the stand that she'd actually lunged from her chair at him, before
being restrained—with not inconsiderable difficulty—by the bailiffs.
"I'm
sorry, Lieutenant. I'm just trying to envision the 'brilliance' of a woman who
put a former Maquis in charge of engineering… less
than a week after she'd committed assault on her then superior. What could
Captain Janeway's thought processes have been? 'Hmm…
she just punched out one of my officers. I know! I'll promote her!
That's just and fair.'
He'd glanced
at Torres like she was a bug, and sneered, "Please."
"Slanderous
p'h'thk! You're not fit to be in the
same room with her!"
To his
credit, Ross hadn't even flinched as the bailiffs caught Torres before she
could make good on her attempt. He'd even managed to make her flush with
embarrassment and fury when addressing the tribunal in the instants afterward.
"It's my
understanding, Admirals, that Lieutenant Torres has recently had a child.
Klingon hormones are notoriously in flux during such periods. I request that
the court excuse her outburst, as I already have.
He then
added, cuttingly, "I'll assume for the sake of argument that it's not part
of a pattern.
"I have
nothing further for this… witness."
·
Former
Ambassador Neelix' deposition on Janeway's
behalf, taken with the aid of Reginald Barkely and
the Pathfinder Project… and conveniently presented by the defense to be read
into the trial transcript, over the protests of Ross and Louvois—who,
of course, had had no chance to cross since communication with the distant
Delta Quadrant was spotty at best.
"…she's
good, and she's kind, and she's the smartest, most determined woman I've ever
known. I owe her my life and my self-respect a dozen times over.
"There
were moments when no one
else knew what to do. Captain Janeway always
found a way to save us... all of us.
"And she
never shied away from the tough
decisions: She brought me and Mr. Vul–… Mr. Tuvok back when we'd been trapped within the form of Tuvix.
"I'll
never forget her."
·
Chakotay's
near-unwavering support for his commander… but his uncertainty when confronted
forcefully by Louvois both with Janeway's
actions during the Equinox incident and his own opinion of her
directives when dealing with the war between the Borg and Species 8472.
Ultimately, though, his loyalty to and faith in her shined through:
Grover had
initially broached the subject of 8472.
"You fundamentally
disagreed with her concerning the Borg 'alliance,' did you not?"
"Yes, I
did."
"So much
so that you actually changed stratagems when she was temporarily incapacitated
during the incident?"
"Also
true..." he'd admitted, "…but, ultimately, it worked. We got
through Borg space, and we've established tentative relations with 8472. That's
what matters."
Then, Ross
had challenged him on the Lessing incident.
"She had
a momentary lapse," he'd insisted. "Knowing her as I do, I think
it's likely she did so unconsciously, intentionally when I was present—knowing
that I'd prevent her from crossing the line.
"Objection!
Commander Chakotay is neither a psychologist nor a
telepath," Ross had challenged.
Grover,
however, had been ready.
"But he is
Janeway's first officer… and it's been said,
Admirals, that no one knows a captain like their longtime X-O… not their
parent, not their brother, not even their spouse. I submit, thus, that
Commander Chakotay is uniquely qualified to
make the statement he just did."
Parker, after
a long moment, had nodded.
"I'm
going to allow it."
At that, the
sinking feeling that had been slowly developing in the pit of Louvois' stomach had lurched.
This could be
trouble.
·
Former Petty
Officer Noah Lessing, the Equinox crewman Janeway stood accused of torturing, denying vehemently that
he held any grudge against her, and further asserting that he'd
"known" on some level that she'd not have really harmed him:
"That
sounds like revisionist history from an ashamed man years after the fact,"
Grover had challenged.
The former
young NCO, now civilian, had looked ashen, but utterly sincere, when he
replied, "Unless you were sitting in that chair, you can't know."
Phillipa had almost
smiled; Grover had neatly cut off the prosecution's best avenue to undermine Lessing's statements. Whether he'd scored points with the
tribunal was another matter, of course… but at least they'd been given
pause—even while she knew that the venerable old attorney had, with Chakotay's and Lessing's
testimonies, adroitly jammed a foot into the doorway of the lone charge she'd
thought, until then, open and shut.
·
Tom Paris
doing himself proud for much of his testimony, remaining eloquent and careful
during most of Ross' relentless cross… but making a critical mistake near its
end:
"It's
clear," Ross had accused suddenly, "that she didn't care about Tuvix, considering the ease with which she had him discorporated."
Tom Paris had
gotten angry.
"You
don't know what you're talking about. She agonized over that
decision."
Ross had
quickly inquired, "You mean it wasn't a snap judgment?"
When
"Well,
thank you for making a case for premeditation, Mr. Paris."
"That's not what I…!"
"Thank
you, Mr. Paris.
"That
will be all."
·
The
controversial decision to disallow the EMH's proposed
testimony—an enormous blow to the prosecution—because its/his status as a
sentient being was still in question.
"Admiral,
I have to ask you to reconsider… Captain Janeway herself
thinks he's sentient!" Louvois had protested.
Parker had
held firm.
"Captain
Janeway doesn't make the law. Neither do I. I can't
allow it to testify when its status is still in question."
Ross had chuckled
harshly, and muttered, "Captain Janeway made
up the law for seven years… that's part of the reason she's on trial here,
now."
The moment
he'd said it, the young prosecutor had known he'd made a mistake. Parker had
taken a breath to respond, but Rear Admiral Patterson had beaten him to the
punch.
"You
make a crack like that again, Counselor, and you'll graduate from prosecutor to
prisoner faster that you can say 'contempt of court.' You got me?"
Ross had
nodded. For the first time during the trial, he'd seemed disconsolate.
"I'm
sorry, sirs. I offer no excuse for my comment. It was inappropriate… and,
again, I apologize to all present."
Parker's
anger wasn't completely doused, though.
"In
response to your request for me to reconsider, Commodore Louvois…
'No' means 'no.'"
·
And,
ultimately, there'd been Ross' soliloquy on the true nature of the murder
charge.
"Smilin' Jack" Ross hadn't been living up to his name;
he'd been positively somber as he again took up his place center stage.
"You
know, I heard something once I thought was pretty profound; even though it
wasn't literally true, it struck a chord within me. It… it resonated."
"Everyone
who ever died was somebody's
baby."
For a long
moment, he'd allowed the statement to echo in the assemblage's thoughts. Grover
had seemed on the verge of saying something, but momentarily withheld.
"Of
course, that's not the case, here. Tuvix had no
mother.
"He also
had no advocate, no champion to speak for him when he most needed it. That
role—long after the fact—belongs to me."
"Objection!
Prosecution is making speeches. I move that Lieutenant Ross' statements be
stricken." Grover's admonishing tone was almost withering.
Parker,
though, was having none of it.
"It's hardly
fair of the tribunal to permit Neelix' testimony into
the record and then deny Mr. Ross some latitude of his own, Counselor.
"Your
objection is overruled."
Ross'
expression was momentarily grateful… but he didn't miss a beat.
He'd made a
circuit that took him past the tribunal, his fellow prosecuting attorneys, and
finally the defense table. His pace was deliberate—in both senses of the word,
as they soon learned.
“Please
remember what is of paramount importance here, ladies and gentlemen,”
he'd begun. “No matter what the defendant’s attorney tells you, or how he
attempts to distract you from the essence of the incident, what it boils down
to is this: In the moment Captain Janeway made
her decision, and then executed it...” The choice of words was clearly
deliberate, but Grover couldn’t substantively object; it was a legitimate use
of the term. “...Lieutenant Commander Tuvok and
Ambassador Neelix no longer existed, except as
possibilities. The late, unlamented Tuvix,
however, was, then, alive and well—a viable, breathing, thinking,
feeling, living person... who’d expressed a strong desire to continue
in that state.
“Now I’m not
here to say that Tuvix’s stance was a selfless one.
In a way, it might even be considered a bit pathetic: He knew there was a good
chance that, if he underwent the proposed transporter procedure, Tuvok and Neelix would be
restored, at the cost of his own life. One would surmise—one might even expect—that
a Starfleet officer would leap at the opportunity to save two people’s lives at
the expense of his own.
“We can
presume, in addition, from our review of Captain Janeway’s
own evaluations of Tuvix as an officer, that
he, if confronted by a situation where two other living members of Voyager’s
crew could be saved by a self-sacrificing effort on his part, would have given
his life unhesitatingly. He would have made the decision we’ve all come to
expect.
“But
that’s not what happened. Tuvix was told,
essentially, that his life—a life he’d come to cherish and value in the
weeks of his existence—was inherently less important than the potential
lives of Tuvok and Neelix.
He was asked to give up his own, so that they might live again. Note the
subtle, but critical, difference there, ladies and gentlemen—not that they
might live, but that they might live again. A living man
was told to die, that two dead men might be restored.
“Tuvix considered all of this, and declined to cooperate—as
is any sentient being’s right.
“It might
have ended there. No doubt he would have been resented, at least for a while…
but firm support on the part of his superiors would have enabled the crew to
accept their new officer after a time.
“Instead, Voyager’s
commander decided to act. She’d asked, and had been refused. That hadn’t been
enough. She’d then commanded... and, finally, compelled. She disregarded
Tuvix’s desires, and forced him to undergo a
procedure that meant the end of his existence. The potential restoration of
Captain Janeway’s two deceased companions—both of
whom were personal friends, I remind the tribunal—meant more to her than the
man before her very eyes, begging for his life.
Ross met the
gaze of each admiral in turn.
“Once we’ve
begun to compel sacrifice, as opposed to simply honoring those who choose
it, we’re essentially legislating morality... and down that path lies
fundamentalism and tyranny.”
He came to a
stop, at last, directly in front of the defense’s table, regarded their charge
with looked like undiluted contempt, and announced, “The prosecution calls
Lieutenant Commander Tuvix to the stand.”
Grover
gasped, then snapped, “Objection!”
Before the
admirals could speak, the young prosecutor immediately conceded,
“Withdrawn." His eyes never left Janeway’s.
"He can’t speak for himself
now, anyway.”
***
"Closing
arguments," announced Joseph Parker.
He turned to
Hardesty Grover, and instructed, "First, the defense."
The old man
took a few deep breaths—girding himself for the final battle—and then stood.
"Admirals,
I'll be brief.
"Kathryn
Janeway stands accused of giving aid and comfort to
the enemy: There has been no formal declaration of hostilities between the Borg
Collective and the United Federation of Planets; thus, the charge is specious,
at best.
"And
even were it not so, there is a great strategic, military truth: The enemy of
my enemy is my friend. Captain Janeway saw, in
Species 8472, a foe that threatened the entire galaxy, and chose to ally with
the devil she knew—in order to defeat the devil she didn't.
"And
that first devil I mentioned is hardly irredeemable."
He smiled
slightly, secretly, and then continued.
"Abraham
Lincoln once said, 'The best way to defeat an enemy is to make him your
friend.' Kathryn Janeway did just that with the drone
that was once Seven of Nine. The fact that this woman was with us during the
course of this trial, answering to the name Annika
Hansen, is all the evidence on that subject we need. The knowledge we
subsequently gained on the Borg is only a beneficial adjunct to Kathryn Janeway's primary goal of saving a soul—to use the term in
its broader sense.
"As to
the charge of murder… it is a generally accepted axiom that the needs of the
many outweigh the needs of the few… or the one. Tuvix
may or may not have been a genuine being, worthy of our respect; I am neither a
biologist nor a theologian, and so cannot speak to those matters with any
substantive conclusiveness.
"What
I do know is that he was alone in the universe. He had no family, no
history, no foundation upon which to claim that his existence should take
precedence over those of Tuvok and Neelix—two men who'd lived, prospered, loved, learned,
grown and affected the lives of thousands with whom they'd come into contact.
It's very rare to be able to point and say, 'This man's life is worth more than
another's.' In this extraordinarily unusual case, though, it was
possible to do just that. In the name of those who loved Tuvok and Neelix—whose lives
would have been devastated by their permanent disappearance—Kathryn Janeway made a hard, terrible decision.
His eyes bore
into those of the tribunal.
"But
make no mistake… she stepped up and made the right decision.
"Psychological
torture? One can argue that a victim has to have been psychologically affected
for someone to successfully assert that they've been psychologically tortured.
"The
only two individuals who were present besides Kathryn Janeway—her
first officer and young Noah Lessing—are both
convinced that no torture occurred. If only to affirm the respected
principle, 'No victim, no crime,' you cannot convict her on this charge.
"The
various violations of the Prime Directive have been trampled into the mire. I
shall not go over ground so exhaustively trod… I am certain the tribunal will
consider each incident with extreme care.
"As far
as conduct unbecoming a Starfleet officer, I can only say: Her crew loves and
respects her. They followed where she led… and she led them home. If, as I
believe, you cannot convict her on any of the other charges, an acquittal on
conduct unbecoming is a foregone conclusion.
"I ask
you to consider the law… I ask you to consider the facts… and I ask you to
consider the truth at the heart of these matters.
"Finally,
I ask you, on the charges and specifications before you, to return a verdict of
'Not guilty.'
"Thank
you."
Parker waited
politely as the aged barrister reclaimed his seat, then gestured to Grover's
opposition.
"And now
the prosecution."
It was Louvois who'd started this… and it was Louvois
who looked to finish it.
“The defense
has, during the course of this trial, on more than one occasion implied that
the prosecution was ‘portraying Captain Janeway’ in a
certain fashion, or ‘interpreting the facts in a biased manner.’
“Normally, I
wouldn’t even dignify such intimations with a reply... but in this case, I
believe it important to do so.
“I don’t know
Kathryn Janeway. I feel no need to categorize or
condemn her. I am, however, cast in the role of lead prosecuting attorney for
the duration of this trial, and it is my duty to have the facts of this case
presented in as coherent and logical a manner as I can.
“Ultimately,
Captain Janeway’s defense of many questioned actions
was a simple, but not simplistic, one: ‘I did what I thought was right at
the time.’ This can be an incredibly persuasive and compelling argument,
especially when its wielder is a decorated Starfleet officer with whom we’re
all inclined to sympathize, and who we’re all inclined to believe. It's
the kind of argument that starship captains have used successfully in defending
themselves throughout Federation history, especially in regard to particularly
thorny Prime Directive issues. I agree with Mr. Grover; it's out of our hands,
now.
“There’s one fatal
flaw in that argument, though, especially as it applies to what has been the
most controversial and hotly contested of the charges against her—that of
murder, in the case of Lieutenant Commander Tuvix:
Doing what she thought was right, in this instance, deprived a being who’d
clearly done nothing wrong of his life... because she’d decided that another
morality should prevail over his. And make no mistake... this was not Tuvix’s morality, and neither was it Starfleet’s. It was
clearly Kathryn Janeway’s.
“I submit
that this is an instance where the ‘I did what I thought was right at the time’
defense is not only inapplicable, but doesn’t ring true even for the staunchest
proponents of such a position.
“Commander Tuvok has been present in this courtroom, and has
testified; we know Ambassador Neelix is prospering in
the Delta Quadrant. They’ve both been granted a second chance at life, and
that’s a good thing.
“The person
who should have made that choice, though, had it taken away from him;
instead, Kathryn Janeway imposed her will, and
silenced him forever.
“What she
thought was right wasn’t. I know it... you know it... and deep down, in
that place where we can’t lie to ourselves, Kathryn Janeway
knows it, too."
It was only
then, for the first time in those many months, that Phillipa
Louvois actually looked directly at Janeway.
She was a
great prosecutor, and a skilled poker player. Now, she employed both of those
skills, and saw something she'd never expected to see.
Something she
or Ross had said had punched through Janeway's
hitherto impenetrable assurance. For just a moment, the woman's expression
wavered.
It didn't
make Louvois as happy as she'd thought it would.
"Counselor?"
With a start,
Phillipa realized she'd been standing, staring,
for almost 15 seconds.
"Sorry,
Admiral." She gathered herself, and continued.
"If I
strike at a man, whether I hit him or not, it's still an attack. If I let loose
a hostile alien creature on a helpless victim, whether or not it eventually
does any harm—whether or not the victim himself felt imperiled—it's still
torture… it's still an attempt to cow and intimidate… and no amount of
explanation after the fact, no matter how heartfelt and eloquent, can alter
that.
"The
idea that since there was no formal declaration of war between the Federation
and the Borg no crime was committed is absurd. The Borg have no formal
government; they're at war with all other sentient beings, by virtue of
their actions. The war is de facto, not declared… Kathryn Janeway knows that as well as anyone. She helped a powerful
and relentless enemy defeat a foe that had fired just a few shots at her ship
and crew in an entirely reasonable scenario. Like it or not, that is the very
spirit of the definition for giving aid and comfort to the enemy.
"As far
as conduct unbecoming a Starfleet officer, I ask you to remember this… a
thousand good deeds do not excuse a single evil one.
"I do not
condemn Kathryn Janeway… but I think it clear that,
as a result of her actions, you must.
"Thank
you."
***
Joseph Parker
didn't even bother with the gavel: The participants' attention was already
focused, rather keenly, on the verdicts. He allowed his gaze a thorough
procession across the breadth of the room.
"In the
matter of the United Federation of Planets vs. Captain Kathryn Janeway:
"On the
various charges of Prime Directive violation… the tribunal finds sufficient evidence,
in each case, for remanding the matters to the Sociological Analysis
Division."
There were
more than a few whispers in the courtroom. Louvois
almost contributed to them, but managed to hold her tongue at the last moment.
The decision, while unusual, was not completely unheard of: Occasionally a
tribunal would deem itself unqualified to rule on the salient subtleties of the
Prime Directive, and defer to a committee of scholarly experts who would
analyze the incident(s) in greater detail.
It was, essentially,
though, a "no decision" decision. Such Prime Directive examinations
invariably took years—or even decades—as those selected to perform the function
delved with exceeding determination, and doggedness, into every aspect of the
occurrence(s). Once SAD had a case, it was, for all intents and purposes, a
matter for posterity.
Hell, they
just ruled on James Kirk's intervention at Eminiar
VII six years ago. Janeway’s “daughter” will have
grandchildren before these are completely addressed.
"On the
charge of giving aid and comfort to the enemy, the tribunal finds the
defendant... not guilty."
Phillipa's expression
remained impassive; she was prepared for the admirals to decide thus on that
particular charge. It was the rest whereon the battle would be decided.
It was almost
amusing, in a surreal way… but the atmosphere darkened again immediately.
"On the
charge of murder in the first degree…"
Then, Joe
Parker hesitated.
Though the
man wasn't one for melodrama, he glanced at his colleagues, as if giving each
one a chance to interrupt the proceedings even at this late date.
Neither so
much as twitched.
The venerable
officer nodded slightly, and resumed his task.
"…the
tribunal finds the defendant… not guilty."
That evoked a
reaction from just about everyone: Janeway relaxed
visibly, and Grover seemed to sag—as if he'd been willing that particular
verdict, and his power was now exhausted; Ross shook his head in disdain,
disbelief, or both; Phillipa, of course, couldn't see
her own expression, but she found it difficult to imagine it was one of
ambivalence.
Oh-for-three.
That's just great.
The defense
team, with the exception of its leader, seemed almost inflated now. There was
some hand-holding and barely suppressed grins.
"In the
matter of conduct unbecoming a Starfleet officer, the tribunal finds the
defendant…" Again Parker paused.
This time,
though, he threw everyone a curve.
"…guilty
as charged."
As quickly as
that, Janeway's expression of confidence, flavored
only with a hint of concern, was gone, replaced by one Phillipa
would have labeled "aghast."
I don’t think
I've ever seen that before… her jaw actually dropped open.
Grover,
though, didn't look surprised.
"Finally,
on the charge of psychological torture…"
The
anticipation was electric.
"…the
tribunal finds the defendant guilty as charged."
Admiral
Joseph Parker glanced again to his left, where Rear Admiral March Patterson
echoed his superior’s proclamations with the traditional, "So say we
all."
When Parker turned
to her, Vice Admiral T'Kara did the same.
"So say
we all."
Parker's next
declaration—the trial's climactic words—had the power of implacability.
"So say
we all."
Even though
she believed with all her being in the absolute justice of the last two verdicts,
Louvois could still find it in herself to sympathize
with Kathryn Janeway: She'd battled impossible odds
for close to seven years, and brought her crew home nearly intact. Now, because
Phillipa had been compelled by her own sense of duty,
the woman's career was in tatters.
"Sentencing
to take place…" Joseph Parker stopped as, for the first time during the
trial, the courtroom doors unexpectedly opened, and Fleet Admiral Alynna Necheyev entered.
She strode
directly towards the upraised dais from which the trio of admirals had rendered
judgment, looking neither one way nor the other, and stopping only after she'd
again surprised the room's occupants by ascending to stand at Joseph Parker's
right hand.
"Begging
the court's indulgence," she stated formally, in a voice that indicated
that she rarely, if ever, begged for anything, "I have an
announcement affecting the proceedings."
Necheyev lifted the
PADD she held, addressed herself to it, and began to read.
"To
Captain Kathryn Janeway, Commander, Federation
starship Voyager:
In recognition of your both unprecedented and unparalleled heroism, I hereby
pardon you of any crime for which the tribunal has seen fit to find you guilty.
May you continue in the service of the Federation for as long as you so desire.
We as a people are honored by your dedication.
Signed,
Christopher Ride, President of the United Federation of Planets."
There was an
explosion of cheers and applause from the defense table. Neither Parker nor Necheyev looked pleased at the lack of restraint, but both
decided to allow the team its moment of triumph.
As for the
prosecution...
...for a
moment, Phillipa Louvois
couldn't believe what she'd just heard.
Then, she was
saddened to realize that, indeed, she could believe it.
The sudden
reversal of fortune was, unfortunately, not without visible impact. Despite an
enormous effort to retain her self-possession, Louvois
could feel an expression closely akin to dismay firmly entrench itself on her
face. She'd fought the good fight, had seemingly won… and then had victory
snatched away by the exigencies of politics and popularity.
Still, she
rallied enough to smile—albeit feebly—as Janeway,
Grover, and the rest of the defense team approached the prosecution's table,
just after Parker rather anti-climactically declared, “The court dismisses all
concerned.”
"Commodore,"
Janeway offered immediately, "I wanted to say
that I don't bear you any ill will. You were clearly doing what you thought was
best for the Federation."
Louvois could feel
her self-control slipping, but tried to tough it out. A grim nod, though, was
all she could muster; she found herself utterly at a loss for words.
It became
clear a moment later that Lieutenant John Ross wasn't taking this turn of
events nearly as well as was his superior.
He carefully
addressed himself to Grover, all but ignoring Janeway
and the rest.
"Congratulations,
Counselor," he practically sneered. "You put on a masterful defense;
the smoke was thick and the mirrors perfectly placed."
Grover could
afford to be magnanimous: He knew that, even though there'd been an unfavorable
verdict returned on two of the main charges, the actuality of Janeway's freedom was a de facto triumph. She was
free to live her life and pursue her career; that was what mattered.
Instead of
returning fire, thus, he replied, "And your arguments made us all
reconsider our original positions, Lieutenant. Your future is obviously a
brilliant one, while mine…" His voice trailed off, and for a moment, it
seemed as if his point had eluded him. Then he completed the thought.
"…mine
will consist of writing memoirs."
Ross, though,
hadn't finished.
"I can
only hope your client will take to heart the difference between 'acquittal' and
'pardon,' Mr. Grover. One means you were right… and the other, that you're
simply the flavor of the month."
It was
grossly insubordinate, especially in light of the pardon announcement.
Phillipa chided
herself; despite knowing it was petty, she was, on some level, glad Ross
had said it.
Instead of
expressing anger, though, Janeway smiled marginally;
it seemed to Louvois more of a smirk, but she
couldn't really be sure: The woman did have legitimate reason to be
ecstatic.
She's just
had the scales of justice completely overturned on her behalf,
after all.
"You'll
excuse me if I say that you sound a little bitter, Lieutenant. Considering the…
extenuating circumstances… I'll ignore your attitude." Voyager's
captain wasn't exactly twisting the knife, but her tone wasn't what one
would call a pleasant one, either. As with those of Ross' closing argument, her
words had been carefully chosen for effect.
And have one
they did.
Being the son
of a powerful admiral had certain advantages; one could afford to wear an
expression of cold contempt for a superior officer far more easily than a
person with no protector in upper echelons.
And Ross took
full advantage of it.
"Excuse
me, sirs. I have other cases; justice needs doing—desperately." He
then turned on his heel and left as quickly as decorum would permit.
"He
doesn't take defeat well, or graciously," Grover noted.
Phillipa Louvois, Starfleet's Assistant Judge Advocate General—a
position she had no doubt wouldn't be hers much longer—sighed slightly,
and shook her head in what would once have been disbelief... if she hadn't
grown to know her adversaries all too well in the past few months.
Her reply,
though, was eloquent in its honesty.
"I know the feeling."
AFTERWORD
As my regular readers well know, I've
never before written comments on a story post bellum, so to speak.
"The Trial of Kathryn Janeway," though, has
garnered sufficient attention to warrant an exception.
I was never particularly fond of Voyager
as a series, and for some time pretty much despised the Janeway character (in both senses of the word). When I
heard that she was going to play an important part in Star Trek: Nemesis—as an admiral, no less—I felt
compelled to write a response to what I believed, and still believe, is the
moral decay infecting the entire franchise. This woman was obviously a
criminal many times over; how could truly
perceptive people lionize her? It boggled my mind.
Thus, The Reckoning—"Jurisprudence,"
"The Trial of Kathryn Janeway" and
"Parthian Shots"—was born. I feel it gives a perspective unique, in
that it wasn't written by a Voyager aficionado, but someone with, in my
opinion, a more objective perspective: A Star Trek fan from way
back—one who remembered when Trek was a morality play that actually
turned out right, or at least sent some sort of substantive, worthwhile message
(which is one of my main gripes with the otherwise well-written Deep Space
Nine).
As an aside, my vision of Voyager's
homecoming is not the only one I've encountered online: Fan fiction
author Rocky has written a notable series entitled Homeward Bound, detailing the trial with what I daresay is much
more of a "Jane-o-centric" perspective. While I fundamentally
disagree with some of the choices Rocky made—I frankly consider them logically
flawed and indicative of a certain shipper mentality—I cannot in truth much
fault the execution. If you're a real Voyager fan looking for strong
material that outstrips much of the TV series, I recommend taking a look on the
net for this material.
We discussed both HB and my short story, "Ahead of the
Curve." Rocky criticized my portrayal of Janeway
as a bit of a shrew, almost a caricature, saying that I'd (incorrectly, in her
view) chosen to emphasize the worst possible qualities with which the series writers
other than Jeri Taylor had imbued her. I countered that while I might have
demonized Janeway a bit, Rocky had without
question canonized her, eliminating the many negative aspects of her
personality that were just as legitimate and verifiable as the more beneficent
ones.
We agreed to disagree, and parted
company amicably. As the old saying goes, after all, there's your perspective,
my perspective… and somewhere between, the truth.
But I’ve digressed long enough.
In writing "The Trial of Kathryn Janeway" (which I'd begun planning even before
stumbling on Rocky's work a year before), I made a
calculated decision to explore the perspectives of various characters, but
specifically to avoid those of Janeway. I
believe there are writers far more competent to speak for her than I… and so
she became a bit player, almost a symbol, in a story that bears her name. The
fact that it's a Liberty crossover meant that the ties to my own series
needed to be strong and relevant. I believe I accomplished that even while
chronicling the trial and surrounding events effectively. While a couple of
readers have criticized that direction/decision, I've noted that those who
dislike the television series love what I've done, while genuine Voyager
enthusiasts are split: To my astonishment, though, those of the latter who
think it fair outnumber the naysayers by about a
70/30 ratio. When most of the ‘enemy’ salutes your effort, well, it's easier to
accept the criticisms for what they're worth... and if you choose to listen,
they can still be worth a lot.
As to the verdicts…
…I'm fairly certain no one is
going to be satisfied. Rabid Voyager fans will cry, "How could you possibly
have convicted her on any of these charges, you nimrod?" "You
forget such-and-such point" or "Your bias against Janeway
was clearly showing." If indeed, it did, I apologize. I made a
genuine attempt to speak from Janeway's perspective,
if not examine her thoughts. Her attorney, Hardesty Grover, defended her ably,
in my estimation. Additionally, as Grover made his points, I found myself
sympathizing with Janeway far more than ever I had…
especially as pertained to the Tuvix incident and the
murder charges leveled against her. As a theologian, logician and moralist, I still
conclude that she indeed committed murder… but decided that a truly impartial
court could not find for the plaintiff—that is, in a legal sense.
On the other hand, Voyager haters
will say, "Geez, you slam-dunked her at the trial, and then let her off the hook
with that 'pardon' shit. I don't understand it!" or "What a copout… I
expected better from you, Manno." While I did
feel constrained by the knowledge that Kate Mulgrew
portrays Janeway in Nemesis, I also believe I found the only solution that allowed me
to make points that should have been made long ago, while remaining within the
borders of canon. Thus, it's a "tie," so to speak… and as former
Coach Pat Dye of the Auburn University football team once said, "A tie is
like kissing your sister." No one's really happy about it. Such is life.
Such is Trek… now.
In addition to the usual suspects, I'd
like to thank both Steve Long and Michael "Spooky" Axe for their
legal observations. Both men are attorneys (one an American lawyer, the other
an English barrister), but I shan't hold that against them… instead, I'll let B'Elanna Torres do it. In any place I stretched or
shattered the believability of trial law for the sake of story, please blame me
alone; they were nothing but helpful, and any errors are no doubt as a result
of ignoring their sage counsel (no pun intended). I'll only point out in my
defense that with the idealistic society of the Federation, the pursuit of
right and truth would take priority over the legalities of the situation; I
tried to portray that as best I could.
I hope you enjoyed it. One way or
another, I'd love to hear your opinion.