Sentencing
Posted on Tue Nov 27th, 2018 @ 12:23pm by
Mission:
S0E0: What Came Before
Location: Earth
Timeline: Two months prior to Canopus launch
The sound of the gavel resonated in the room as it sent a shiver down Axon’s spine. The jarring sound caught his attention, shaking him from the fog of his daydream. It took a few moments before he realized the woman sitting behind the large podium was speaking to him, asking him a question.
He looked up, trying to pretend he wasn’t disinterested. He was failing.
“Mister Vendrest, do you understand your sentence as I’ve explained?” she asked again, clearly annoyed that he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Yes, Admiral,” he said. He had no idea what his sentence was, but there was really no point in fighting it, so it didn’t much matter. At this point, he was just ready for this whole thing to be over.
He knew courts martial took a long time, but he felt that five months was a bit obsessive. Especially when he wasn’t contesting the charges against him. He wouldn’t have been able to even if he wanted. Despite his complete cooperation, they felt the need to display every single piece of evidence against him, including things he wasn’t even aware of. How they got all of that information, he wasn’t sure. But again, there was no point in arguing.
“You will rise,” the woman said, to which he complied quickly.
An officer in a red uniform stepped forward, gently plucking one of the gold pips off of his collar, slipping into a small black box.
Axon flinched, though obviously the action caused him no physical pain. But the emotional pain was there and quite present.
“Commander Vendrest, you are permanently removed from command of the USS Odyssey, which now has to go through a very thorough and vigorous security overhaul and refit. Once complete she will remain in mothballs until a suitable commanding officer is available.” The Admiral shifted in her seat. She took no pleasure in passing down such harsh sentences, but she also had a disdain for Captain’s who acted carelessly and recklessly with their ships. Axon was just the type of officer she despised.
“You are also forbidden from holding a Commanding Officer position for a period of five years, during which time you are to complete 300 hours of command courses.”
Axon’s eyes drifted to the side seating as his mind began to wander. There were very few people who bothered to show up anymore, which was more of a blessing than he realized it would be. In the beginning, most of his senior staff came religiously, supporting their Captain. But slowly, they all dwindled away, either by reassignment or just giving up on the long process. Even his husband, who had served him with divorce papers after only a few weeks, didn’t bother to return his phone calls. By the time they reached sentencing, Calida was the only one who bothered to come.
“Your security clearance has been revoked,” the Admiral said, continuing with the onslaught of punishment. “I am also requiring you to attend regular alcohol abuse counseling.” She cleared her throat, “Commander Vendrest?”
He looked back at the Admiral.
She leaned forward, setting down the PADD she was reading from. “Commander, I want you to understand something. You’re getting off very easy from this. I have enough evidence here to strip you of your commission and put you in the brig for a very long time.” She picked up a different PADD and held it up. “Endangering the lives of your crew, compromising one of the fleet’s most advanced ships, opening yourself up for security breaches and clearance leaks of the highest order. Another judge might consider you incompetent or your actions treasonous.”
She sat back. “But I have deemed you reckless, a Captain who let his hubris cloud his judgement. Not that that will save your reputation, but it will let you return to a semi-normal life. I have done you no favor, Commander. But I was compassionate. And if you want my advice: find yourself a quiet posting and get your life straightened out.”
“Yes, Admiral,” was Axon’s reply.
The woman looked at him for a moment, her face softening. And she banged her gavel once more.
A spring breeze blew over the ridge and the sun began to set as Axon finally made it back to his family home in Marseille, France. It had been quite a while since he was here last for any extended period of time. He had stayed for a few days when he returned to Earth for his trial, but he was quickly taken into custody and he’d been in the brig for the duration of the court martial.
He could feel another presence long before he reached the front door, but he couldn’t help but smile at the familiar energy. He started to wonder how long it had been since they’d seen each other but he wasn’t given long to think. As soon as he stepped through the large door, Axon was swept into an embrace that felt like home.
“Ibin,” he said, softly, as he allowed the man’s arms to hold him.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there today, big brother,” Ibin said.
Axon nodded, “It was better to do it alone.” And for the first time in months, Axon allowed himself to cry.
“Has the divorce been finalized?” Ibin asked, returning to the room with a tray. On the tray was a large pot, steam rising from the spout as the smell of jasmine filled the room, as well as a bowl of sugar and two cups.
Axon nodded. He was sitting on a large couch in the large family room, the warmth of the fireplace emanating throughout. They’d been home a few hours, just enough time for Axon to shower and change into some comfortable clothes. The brig wasn’t inhumane but it certainly wasn’t up to anyone’s standards of living.
He took the cup of tea that was handed to him. “At least he was honest,” Axon said, dropping a sugar cube into his cup. “He felt that my fall from grace would negatively impact him and his career.”
“I never liked him,” Ibin said, taking his own cup and sitting down on the couch. He pulled his legs into the cushion and leaned back. “He cared for you, that wasn’t a lie. But I don’t think he was completely honest about his feelings.”
Axon shrugged. The truth was, Ibin was saying things he already knew. Being half Betazoid had its upside, people couldn’t deceive you. But it didn’t take the pain away when they tried.
Ibin looked at Axon, “Why’d you do it?”
The question was simple, and yet in all this time, not a single person had bothered to ask. Axon just looked at his brother, pondering the very idea. He could say he did it to protect the mission, he could say he did it to protect the crew. But both would be a lie. The truth was, the Admiral was right. “I honestly thought we’d be able to fix it ourselves, or at least we’d killed those who had the code. I was reckless.”
