"Open the door!", a militant baritone ploughed through the layer of metal, while knocking Beethoven's "Fifth" with the butt of his handgun. The space inside was filling with smoke. "In the name of the Queen! Open up, or we will!"
A figure was hectically rummaging over a bookshelf, with a pack of documents in his hands. He finally found the paper that he was looking for. It was a copy of a letter addressed to the Gallic Foreign Legion. A drop of sweat fell on it from his forehead.
He winced towards the entrance. Someone fired shots at the lock. He stood still and ceased breathing for a few moments. His eyes gaped like two caves full of dark and uncertainty. Someone kicked the door, but it held, so he continued with his business. He ran towards a bin where a pile of what used to be paper was on fire and threw the documents into it. Someone kicked the door again, but it failed to buckle. He stopped, took a couple of breaths to placate his soul and fixed his clothing. The lock creaked as he opened it. Before him stood what looked like a firing squad. "I suppose you are here to arrest me?", he fired the illusory calmness towards an array of plasma rifles as he stretched them his hands. They were promptly cuffed.
He was wearing the full ensigns of his rank, honours and titles. He greeted his captors with a smug smile, having made sure that everything sensitive had been destroyed. The last line of text disappeared as he was taken out of the quarters. It was his signature. The name "Sir George R. Hall" became smoldering ash.
The Provost was slightly irritated by Hall's smug attitude toward the whole affair, but he knew full well the reputation of the captain. ''Captain Sir George Richard Hall. By order of Lord Hamilton, Commodore of the HMS Norfolk I am arresting you on the charge of insubordination. You are temporarily stripped of your rank and relieved of your command. You do not need to say anything, but if you do speak what you say can be used against you in a court martial. You will be taken from here to a military prison to await trial.'' With that the Provo nodded to the two corporals who flanked the former captain. ''March him away!'' bellowed the Provo and the retinue lead a now dishonored George hall to the shuttle bay.
A wooden creak. The door opened.
A jerk of a rope.
A gag. And another one.
His eyes were as if they were the origin of the sound. Their sockets looked like they were about to vomit out their contents. A whole life of misery was rewinding in front of them. But all that misery, all that misery combined, was nothing in comparison with what they were seeing now. Sir William Richard Hall Senior was looking at his little son George witnessing him turn from a person into meat. The shape that the sight deformed his face into remained frozen until it decomposed.
There was a note on the toppled chair beneath the chandelier.
Hall's father was a Loiner and a smoker, and it was no huge wonder that he developed lung cancer. For some time, because it was written in the note, Hall thought that his father had committed suicide to avoid suffering a more tormenting death. For that time, that scene was the worst thing he had ever seen, and sometimes it haunted him in his dreams. But one day, by pure accident, he got hold of his father's medical files. Before he committed suicide, his father was winning against cancer, and would have probably survived. The gruesome scene stopped haunting his dreams, but this replaced it as the most horrible moment in Hall's life. Why did he actually do it?
Sir William Richard Hall Senior was a nobleman who cared to act nobly. He truly cared. It is unknown to the general public that his family received an opportunity to claim the very throne on the account of the dynasty that had reigned in Bretonia for over 730 years, during the Founders' Day Revolt of 752, but he betrayed his family in order to stay loyal to the king. Thus the whole ploy was foiled, but because all had to be kept secret, Sir William received nothing as reward. Some of his family members were stripped of titles and imprisoned, most of the property was confiscated, most of the influence was lost to mistrust, most of the family's former "friends" and clients were now enemies, and Sir William found himself impoverished and significantly degraded. Eventually he had to marry a rich commoner -- after selling his sword and medals so he could pay the taxes. It was far from a happy marriage, and there were even doubts that all of Sir William's six children truly were his. Two of them died during infancy due to the pollution and the poor hygiene on Planet Leeds, where he was forced to move from Cambridge due to business.
This is what struck George's heart while he was reading the medical files. This is what changed his life, and made him choose his current path. He was awaiting court martial in a military prison because of that path at the moment, but he was there intentionally. He purposely committed a minor offense so he could spend what he believed was the final Gallic push at the safest place possible, instead of at the front line. Or, at least he believed that it was a minor offense and that the place was safe, but he disregarded that he had enemies at the top.
The sight of his father's lifeless body twitching on a rope started haunting his dreams again. He suddenly sprung up from the bed, sweaty and dazed, and started striking the bars with his palm. He had been refusing to speak for weeks, but now his screams teared through the midnight silence, and echoed between the cell block walls over the darkness, waking many of the inmates up: "I want to call my lawyer! I want to call my lawyer! I want to call my lawyer! I want to call my lawyer!" And so on until he was injected with sedatives and passed out. He was allowed to call his lawyer in the morning.
Edmund paced around his quarters on the York, mulling over the events of the past few days. Sir George Hall was a shrewd and cunning old man, and a brilliant tactical commander. Edmund fully expected Hall to have a plan, he didn't know what but the charges weren't something he could wiggle out of on a technicality. The Provosts had arrested him in accordance with military law, he had been charged formally, everything was more or less water tight. Yet Steiner couldn't help but feel like there was something missing, something that Hall had planned in advance for such an occasion.
Edmund needed a legal mind, someone who could ensure that justice would be carried out fairly, but he needed someone whom he could trust and there was really only one man who suited those categories, his own brother, William Steiner. Edmund sat down, and sent a message to his brother and spent the night discussing the trial, the conditions of Hall's arrest and the charges that were before him.
For now, patience was what was needed, nothing could be rushed, lest everything go awry.
They shook their hands, Hall and Brian Strates, his lawyer. They were sitting at a table in a cell, and apparently had been talking for a short time. "Sorry for all the pleasantries", said Hall, "I have not spoken to anyone for weeks". Their hands parted and Hall seemed to have received something, secretly, from Strates. "The details, then...", he said as he grasped a glass of water. Water was the only beverage that was served in prison. It seemed to have suddenly received an orange tint. He took a sip and continued.
"There is a commodore called Edmund Steiner. The Steiners are a big family. They are everywhere: the Armed Forces, the Police, the BMM, where else not. They have the law, they have the capital. Edmund's been doing devil knows what to O'Brien to climb the rank ladder, so I'd say they have the influence, too. And before being aware of that... eerie cobweb of theirs, I acted towards one of them rather unkindly."
Strates lifted an eyebrow, as if he was interested to hear the dirty specifics. Hall wandered off for a second. "I can't even remember his name... I think it was Edmund's brother or something... And I am not sure if that was the only Steiner I have slighted. In June I resigned from my position as admiral, I had a number of disagreements with O'Brien and Admiral McIntire, and I became a captain again. Meanwhile Edmund was made a commodore. When O'Brien's notice about the imminent Gallic threat to New London had been transmitted, I received a message from Edmund, which stated that I was to be transferred from the Norfolk Fleet in Cambridge to the York Fleet in New London, which was the first line of our defense. It is not traditional to send experienced officers to fight in the first ranks, so I could understand that this was, in fact, a legal way to get rid of me."
Strates was apparently used to such stories, as he did not change his mood. Hall took another sip. "But Edmund was not my commander. When I resigned, I stayed under the Norfolk Fleet and its commander, but I was also, as explicitly stated by O'Brien, under the orders of Commodore McKinley, who was in charge of a squadron in Newcastle. I am not yet sure why. McKinley used to be my trainee, it might have been a way to humiliate me. Commodore Dagon, who was at the time in command of the Norfolk, was then, as far as I now know, sent to a covert mission. I wasn't even informed that I was suddenly under someone else. Lord Hamilton, who returned from retirement at the time, was then instated as commodore and as the Norfolk Fleet commander in chief. A much younger lad than you would expect, but he still manages to think highly of himself. He is convinced that his service prior to my own makes him more experienced, but the time when he served was incomparably simpler. Pardon me, I digress... Where was I..." "If Steiner was not your commander, then how did he give you an order?", Strates reminded him. "Ah, yes! I did suspect that it was not only him behind it, it was clear to me that it was a setup by O'Brien and McIntire. I refused Steiner's order on the basis of him not being my direct commander. I was well aware of the potential consequences, or so I thought, because this is not about who is whose commander, but about getting rid of me. I refused and then contacted Hamilton, instead of doing as told before contacting Hamilton, as is the practice. Hamilton doesn't know me, directly, but I don't know what filth they had been filling his ears with by then either. He, of course, agreed that Steiner was right, charged me with disobedience and sent the provos to arrest me. As I had predicted. You see, if they want to get rid of me, they will do so anyways, because they can. It's a powerful clique. And it suits me much better that they do so by sending me to prison than to get killed in battle. It is not that I would mind dying for Bretonia -- but this is not for Bretonia, this is for their personal whims!"
He shook his head in self-pity. "I thought, originally, that they would be content if I was practically neutralized by a curtain of steel bars. But I had a lot of time to think here. And one time I remembered that French king, whatever was his name, who was kept behind bars, and then guillotined. And that Soviet emperor who was kept behind bars, and then shot... Or hanged... Together with his children. I... believe you know how my father passed away?"
Strates nodded. Coldly. "I'd rather die to a Gaul. But better not die at all, yet. This is what I want you to pull off."
He took a sip of the water and leaned closer to Strates. "Listen: I don't want to get out. If I do, they'll send me to the front. I neither want to hang. So, I would be very grateful to you if you made the process last as long as possible, without reaching a conclusion. As long as you're in my service, my bank account is in yours. And I am sure that it will not run dry before the war is over. When it is, getting me out would be very suitable, of course. What do you say, my friend?"
It was an unusually sunny day in the city of Portsmouth, the New London rain had, for the time being, ceased to reveal a pale sun. The military court buildings hummed with activity as barristers, solicitors and judges of all types wandered back and forth through its doors. A number of prominent naval officers had also arrived to hear or take part in the days proceedings.
Former Admiral and Captain George Hall was to be prosecuted on the charges of insubordination, a charge that came as a shock to the general public. Hall arrived with his defence, and were instantly ushered indoors by the Military police, the prosecution arrived soon after. Commodore Edmund Johann Reuel Steiner stept out from the carriage along with his barrister, his own brother, William Frederick Volker Steiner. The fact that there were two 'Steiner' family member on this case was an instant blow to the prosecution's look, with many other lawyers offering to take William's place. Some considered it a conspiracy designed to put Hall out of commission. The two brothers were silent as they walked up the steps into the court house, while they waited outside the chamber doors, they conversed in Rheinlandic.
''When they get down to it'' William started ''They will argue that because you were not Hall's commanding officer, you had no right to give that man an Order.''
''The rank and position gives me the right to summon him to one position or another, further more the Commanding officer of the Norfolk fleet supported the order once he was aware of the situation.'' Edmund replied
''Regardless, it will depend on how well one can argue the matter, should the Crown find Hall guilty, I doubt he will return to service, in fact he may even be tried under the death penalty...''
''Good.'' Edmund said blankly
''Good!?'' William said with some disbelief ''The man refused to follow an order, does that means he deserves to die?''
''He has threatened all of us at one point or another Wilhelm, he is dangerous and ruthless, and when he stops obeying orders, he becomes a traitor. I have no doubt that O'Brian will reduce his sentence if he is found guilty, but we must find him so first.''
''Do not make this personal Edmund, if you wish of a chance of success, you must be unbiased and clinical in your assessment. I can do what you ask, but I will not smile if we find this man guilty.''
''That is all I ask'' Edmund said grasping his brothers shoulder.
About this time, Hall and his defence had managed to pass through the crowd that waited outside and finally entered the courts themselves. Hall entered the room just before the chambers and came into contact with Edmund and William for the first time since his arrest. The two Rheinlanders looked at the older Bretonian with a distinct disinterest as he sat on a bench opposite them while they all waited for permission to enter.
The Court Martial would be presided over by three separate naval officers of sufficient rank, there was some speculation by both William and Edmund that Lady O'Brian herself would be one of the presiding judges, something that they seriously wished against as she did not have the kindest option of their family. The other judges were a mystery to them, two captains of little renown who were there to ensure an unbiased trial and, much to the relief of Edmund, no jury to pander too.
"Order! Order!", the judge kept swinging his gravel. The process was turning exactly into what Hall had paid Strates for, and what Strates was manipulating it with. A reality show. And it is in every director's interest that their reality shows last as long as possible. It was not exactly polarizing the public, but it did provide good joke material and pub talk subject. Hall's monetary reserves, much larger than any honest admiral, let alone captain, could have, kept flowing out, and would for a long time. Edmund was fueled by rage, and the fact that not all was going according to plan was putting his fuel ablaze even better. It looked like it would not finish soon, but then Strates called a witness for Hall. One of his few truly trusted trustees, Lieutenant Ian Graham. Hall had told Strates that Graham knew about the personal tensions between the Steiners and him, and was supposed to help prove that this was a trap set by the Steiner family, and Hall's disobedience only a way to avoid it.
Graham straightened his tie as good as he could before entering the court, took a big gulp from his flask and finally, when the doors were opened for him, walked onto the seat designated for witnesses of the defense.
He felt quite uncomfortable, not to say stressed, in this environment. Suits and fine talks were far from his business, he never made a good figure when fancy talking was imperative. The whiskey would the least make him more relaxed till this whole unpleasant affair was over for him. If it was not for Sir Hall sitting on the wrong side of the courtroom he would probably have found an excuse not to have to attend.
Ever since Hall was relieved of command on the Norfolk things went south for him, first he got demoted for rackless behavior and then another time for but a small fistfight with another officer. Usually this little fauxpas would have been swept under the rug by Hall but under the new command it cost him his rank. The drinking didnt get better either since then, some officers already set bets when he would be dishonourably discharged from the Armed Forces. The least none of his superiors showed any intention to do so, yet, most certainly only due to the wars state.
Once he took seat Halls lawyer, Mr Strates, asked Graham to tell the jury about the relation between Hall and Commodore Edmund Steiner.
Sir, I am sure you have heard of the Steiners already, they're a rather big family aye? Some of 'em hold quite the influence.
Strates gives him an impatient look.
Oh yes, I will start from the beginning. Like two years ago a young lad out of that family first appeared in the southern region to support fights, I never heard of him before but he seemed to be quite a climber ye? So, Sir Hall's not a bad man but he does put some pressure on the new meat to see what they're made of.
I too would rather have someone who won't run away in the face of the enemy besides me honestly, but that lad seems to have taken it as a personal offence. Probably not used to getting the whip every now and then, I hear they're living in some fancy palace, ha!
He gulped, glancing at Strates to check back he wasn't talking nonsense. Strates nodded slightly to signal him to talk on.
So uh, where was I? Ah yes, that Steiner lad. I mean the Commodore. He since showed quite the dislike against Sir Hall, out of hurt feelin's I'd guess. Not to stretch things, Commodore Steiner rose through the ranks quickly while Sir Hall quit the Admiralty. Soon enough Commodore Steiner sent him orders wich Sir Hall could not follow as they were issued by the commander of a fleet he is not part of! Well, Commodore Steiner seems to have convinced Sir Mcintire to make Hall comply, wich Hall could not follow for reasons I'll explain soon. And here we are, Commodore Steiner seems to have gotten what he wanted...
The nervosity he felt when entering the court was slowly fading away, the whiskey did its job reliably as always.
Now, I know Sir Hall has stepped on some toes in the last years, noo? If you care about my thoughts, I think this smells like revenge. Who knows what would've happened if he followed the order to be reassigned? Its odd that only he got orderd to move isn't it? Sir Hall must've smelled a trap! He's been an Admiral for long, old in the politics business. I mean he held relations with quite big shots like that Loyola lass! Takes a lot of instinct to work with these Outcasts... I mean Maltese of course, they're a sneaky bunch.
To the point, I see no reason why Sir Hall would've disobeyed an order if not out of fear for his life. He's a good man.
If anyone should be sittin' on his chair it'd be the Commodore. He's got a lot more explaining to do than Hall if ye'd ask me.
Graham, quite proud of himself, takes a last look at Strates and Hall, the latter of whom was pale all of a sudden. Then the judge allowed him to leave but to stay available in case the jury demanded his presence again.
He walked out of the room, his thoughts focused on the flask and the brown liquid inside it. After this he felt like having a drink. Or a couple.
William stood and clearly spoke to the three Judges. ''Gentlemen, I will not grace the comments made by mister Graham about my Brother or my family with a response. All that needs to be said at this point is that Captain Hall failed to obey an order that was received by a lawfully appointed officer and, when that order was confirmed by Lord Hamilton, continued to disobey as well as challenge the right Commodore Steiner had to give it. This, therefore, is a case of textbook insubordination, a claim I can support with the recorded communications between the three men I have mentioned.''
He turned over a page of his notes that lay on the desk before him and continued with his clear, but unemotional address to the court. ''I will also ask you to consider the following testimony of mister Graham, in particular the mention of Captain Hall's dealings with Lady Emna Loyola, whom I believe was accused of being infected, and who has recently fallen into the company of the Gallic Royal Navy. Again, I can provide supporting documentation of this fact.'' He cleared his throat and calmed himself as he did not wish to appear smug at this point, lest his entire argument fell apart. ''Thus I believe that only one question should be asked of Captain Hall: Apart from the obvious insubordination, what else has he been doing? I believe that this question is of the utmost importance considering that this man was once privy to information and knowledge that concerned the security of this House. That is all I will say for now gentlemen''
William sat back down, somewhat confident that he had exploited the testimony of the witness sufficiently. Edmund, who was clearly incensed by Graham's accusations, had calmed down considerably, in fact it was clear by the expression on his face that he was surprised by his brother's mention of Loyola.
The court soon broke for lunch and Hall was returned to the holding cells while the two brothers stood outside the building smoking and talking. ''Are you quite sure that you didn't rush the mention of Loyola?'' Edmund asked ''It did seem a bit..hasty, don't you think?''
''If I hadn't asked, it would have given Hall time to conjure a defensive argument. No accusation has been made, merely an important question which will require very detailed answers. If nothing else, it will slow his defence down. In the meantime, we will need to ensure that you are clear of what Graham said.'' William replied
''I'm not out for power, and Graham is a drunk who doesn't know friend from foe, that was the whole reason he got demoted'' Edmund replied angrily
''Be that as it may, he has called our reasons for this trial into question and Victor cannot help us here i'm afraid, which is unfortunate since he is probably the one who knows Hall best. Still, you've never taken official action against Hall before, nor have you harassed him in any provable way until this trial...'' William said in a thoughtful voice before being promptly cut off by Edmund
''This isn't harassment, this is ensuring that justice prevails. That man has a duty, like you or I or Victor or McIntire. He has an obligation to uphold the rule of law, the protection of this house and it's people and he is answerable to the Queen. He has proven he cannot do those things when he refused to obey orders and dallied with questionable people! I'll not be made the enemy here, he is as guilty as sin and....''
''Enough!'' William said harshly ''I am aware of your reasons and I support them, that is why I am here. Unfortunately, you are not taking into account how shrewd men can be. You cannot simply demand justice be given without any reasonable evidence. We can prove little of what we know, so give me time to make the proper arrangements and I promise you, justice will have a fair chance of being served. But be patient, the Law takes time. Don't rush into this when you don't know what lies ahead, if Hall is as corrupt as you think he is, then we need to be careful, don't you think?''
Two perfectly tranquil faces entered Hall's temporary cell in the courthouse. A guard casually closed the door. "BLEEDING HELL!", Strates' fist struck an imaginary point in the air with the momentum that turned him around. "Was it THAT Loyola?" "Yes", Hall added bluntly. He was taking a seat at the tin table in the middle. "What in the devil's name did you do with that woman!? Is it cardamine?" Strates sat opposite of him. He was nervously twitching his right knee up and down.
The story played all over again in Hall's thoughts. The effort he made to hide it, too. The weight of all that converted into rage, which pulsed away from his chest, and onto Graham. "You don't need to know. No one but Graham and Dagon knows. Dagon is very absent and with Graham you can talk. It doesn't matter what it was, we can cover it up." "It was your idea to call that drunken punk as a wit-" "Don't forget who's paying you!", Hall's shriveled forehead sent him a stern look. Strates' head bowed down and his fingers sunk into his hair. His mind surrendered to its own depths and released a short sigh. His leg stopped twitching. Ironically, the money Hall was paying him with came from Loyola's hands. "So?", Hall's impatience disturbed the silence. "I'm afraid we'll have to reveal your cardamine addiction", Strates' trained pseudo-compassion floated out of his eyes. "How much do you ask for another option?" "Well, alternatively, you can say it was a love affair", he cynically brushed him off. "Oh, and it's nothing." "Go instruct Graham she was only delivering me cardamine", Hall's pride finished it in a commanding tone, to remind Strates again who was in charge. Strates got up, no words, and left the cell. "And eat something! I don't want to hang because your gut was louder than your brai-", the echo of Hall's voice throughout the corridor outside was interrupted by a guard who closed the door.
Strates was told Graham was outside, so he went there. However, all he could see was Graham's "Templar" taking off. He rolled his eyes. This day was not on his side. There were no pubs nearby, so that must be why Graham was leaving, he thought. However, there was a number of restaurants, which flourished because of all the lunch breaks, and Strates decided to pay a visit to one until Graham was back. In a usable state, hopefully.
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