A Life Ends

Posted on Mon Mar 1st, 2021 @ 10:13pm by Cailus Griffin & Lieutenant Kalin Brennan-Griffin PhD

Mission: The Gauntlet
Location: Carnwennan Station: Courtrooms
Timeline: Current

After the failed abduction, and the subsequent rushed decision by Milne to get Cailus and Shae off the station, the subsequent court martial happened far faster than was usual. Starfleet Command had been adamant: they could not let Cailus and Shae leave the starbase without facing the consequences of their actions, whatever those actions might be.

The proceedings, at least, weren’t complicated or argumentative. The defendants had plead guilty to all charges and there was nothing to contradict their statements. Even little Eva’s testimony was considered, although only second-hand from Captain Wolfe over subspace. It was all astonishingly routine, as if the entire affair was on tracks. Cailus and Shae’s representative argued their case, asking the board for clemency and compassion. The prosecutor argued eloquently for considerable prison time, laying out Cailus and Shae’s numerous crimes in excruciating detail and waxing on about ethics and criminality. The entire thing barely lasted three hours, broken only by a brief pause when Eoin needed changing.

That, at least, was a new experience for the JAG: a defendant taking a break to change her son’s diaper in a side chamber, guarded by a half dozen heavily armed officers while everyone awkwardly waited for them to return.

Finally, it was done. The board, five senior officers hurriedly empanelled to render judgement, retired to make their deliberations. Cailus and Shae, with the children, were left alone in a small meeting room to wait. It had no windows, indeed nothing of note besides furniture and a replicator.

Cailus was tense. Every minute that they waited for the decision on their future seemed to stretch on. He switched between standing and sitting, having no idea what to say to Shae to pass the time, his anxiety palpable. The dress whites were uncomfortably tight, and he tugged irritably at the collar as he looked at Shae, forcing a tiny weak smile as he looked at her and Eva.

Shae smiled back, but it was somehow hollow; her coping mechanism for all this anxiety had been one of avoidance, trying not to think about it as much as possible by occupying all her time being Mama. Eva needed a drink, then a story, then it was Eoin’s feeding time, and shite, don’t let him spit up on the pristine white dress jacket! So even though she seemed fully engaged with the children, in reality her mind was a million miles away waiting for the verdict.

First one hour passed. Then two. Then three. Time stretched and stretched. Finally the door chime rang, and when Cailus went to answer, a smartly dressed Andorian officer stood waiting at the door. He too was in dress whites, standing straight, his expression severe and somber.

“Commander, Lieutenant, they’re ready,” he said. Glancing at the children, he added, “You can take a few minutes to prepare yourself if you like.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Cailus said stiffly. They might as well have been on a parade ground with the stuffy formality of it all. The lieutenant nodded, stepping back and the door closing to give them some privacy. Cailus moved to Eva, picking her up automatically, his entire body electric with nervousness as his heart hammered away in anticipation.

“Ready?” he asked Shae, holding out his left hand to her.

“Oh goodness, not really,” Shae replied as she snuggled Eoin into the sling she had been wearing to keep her hands free. Then with a deep breath, she took her husband’s hand and went with him to face their fate.

They returned to the courtroom, the five officers on the judiciary panel already there, all five of them betraying no signs of their feelings. One of them was the captain of the Emir, the ship that had rescued the family just the other day, but the other four were strangers. The one in the center, a human admiral who looked so old that he might well have been born the same year as Cailus, watched them gravely.

The defence counsel was the only friendly face in the room, but even he looked uncomfortable as Cailus and Shae sat down next to him. The tension in the air was immensely uncomfortable, heightened only further by the extreme security presence both inside and outside the courtroom.

Then, once everyone was settled, the admiral leaned forward and spoke, his voice surprisingly strong and deep given his frail appearance. “This court martial is now in session. All present are reminded that these proceedings are classified top secret, and that divulging any classified information will result in criminal penalty. Now, before this court renders judgement, do either of the defendants wish to make a final statement?”

The defence counsel looked at Cailus, who simply shook his head, not trusting himself to talk. The counsellor looked then to Shae.

Shae rose in deference to her superiors, then paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking. “I am a Federation citizen by means of adoption. I love the Federation and Starfleet, to which I followed my older brothers. I was happy to serve the Federation and Starfleet, until they betrayed me; I was kidnapped from my college dorm room, already an Officer and I was doing extended education, and then suddenly I was in a cell, treated in the most inhumane conditions, forced into experiments no decent person should ever have to know, trained to do… horrible things… Starfleet and the Federation failed me, a rightful citizen, by leaving me to those barbarians, then they failed me again when I was punished when I finally got free of them. Then a glimmer of hope, one Captain was able to do what no one else could and offered me true freedom by freeing my daughter; this turned out to be another failure when this clone died. Yes, we went outside the chain of command and took justice into our own hands, but we wouldn’t have had to if Starfleet and the Federation hadn’t failed us so completely.”

Shae’s hands were shaking by the time she was done, and her gaze on the panel faltered with her courage spent. She took one more shuddering breath and finished her statement with, “Thank you for your consideration.” then sat back down.

The admiral was quiet for a long moment. He looked to either side at the men and women beside him until they all nodded back in mutual assent, and he leaned forward once more.

“Before this court renders judgement, I will add on a personal note,” he said gravely, “that this entire affair is the most disgraceful scandal that I have seen in my career. I will personally make sure that heads will roll for this. Doctor Brennan, you are right that the Federation has failed you and your family. On the behalf of the Federation, I offer you all my deepest apologies, along with a promise. This travesty will not go unanswered. At this very moment, an independent commission is being established to find justice for you, to expose the criminals who hurt you, and to punish them for their actions.”

Then the admiral sighed. “However, that is for the future. For now, we must address the present. Lieutenant Kalin Brennan, stand to attention.”

For the first time in years, Shae had acknowledgement and validation of her pain, and immediately it felt like a weight had been lifted. With tears in her eyes, she rose and came to attention, or as well as she could while wearing a baby across her chest; it didn’t matter if she remained an Officer or not, she finally had the recognition she desperately needed.

The admiral’s tone shifted then, just a little, at the impact of what he was about to say. “Lieutenant Brennan,” he began formally, “you have plead guilty to all charges. The evidence supports the statement you gave to the Starfleet Criminal Investigative Service, which the prosecution has chosen not to contest. Furthermore, this court recognises and accepts the extreme circumstances that you acted within.”

“However,” the admiral said, “this court cannot forgive the wanton violence with which you acted, nor can it condone such vigilante actions. Your conduct has been unbecoming of a Starfleet officer and a citizen of the Federation. The people you hurt may well have been monsters, akin to Hitler’s Nazis or Khan’s Augments, but they did not deserve death. The Federation does not exact capital punishment or extrajudical killings. It is in the hope and expectation that you understand this, within the context of your past experiences, that this court has decided that you will be permitted to remain in Starfleet at your current rank. A type C-1 reprimand will be placed on your permanent record. This is the most severe reprimand that this court can issue. If you had any aspirations of reaching high rank, Lieutenant, this court advises you to abandon such ambitions. It is highly unlikely that you will ever progress beyond the rank of Lieutenant Commander, regardless of how long you remain in the service.”

He stopped then. “That is all, Lieutenant. You may sit.”

Releasing a breath she did not know she was holding, Shae nodded awkwardly, then sat down, though she was not ready to relax until Cailus’ verdict had been pronounced as well.

“Lieutenant Commander Cailus Griffin, stand to attention,” the admiral spoke into the silence of the courtroom. This time, there could be no denying that his voice was hardened. As Cailus handed Eva to her mother, there was a flash of plain fear in his eyes that he couldn’t quite conceal before he stood straight, hands clasped behind his back.

“Commander,” the admiral said, “this court recognises that you acted within the same circumstances and constraints as Lieutenant Brennan. However, in cases such as these, it is our responsibility to assess not just a defendant’s guilt, but also to determine punishment that is within a defendant’s best interest, and the interest of Starfleet as a whole. In your case, Commander, this court has seen a plethora of evidence to raise concern. Throughout your career, you have shown a disturbing willingness to use violence in the course of your duties. At Nimbus III, you acted with lethal force, killing four Klingons and permanently maiming two more. At the Battle of Menelax, you both crafted and enacted a battle plan that would lead to carnage the likes of which would not be seen again by Starfleet until the Dominion War. Even further, you personally duelled and killed General Leh’bai of the Klingon Empire. These are just some examples among many.”

There was no compassion in the admiral’s tone this time. His glare was more formidable than Cailus’s had ever been. “Your superiors at the time should’ve had you removed from duty then, but they failed to do so. This leads to the act you are charged with committing, an act of extraordinary violence. You are a security officer, sir, not a soldier, not a warrior, yet you didn’t even consider non-violent means. Your weapons had stun settings, but you ignored them. You murdered unarmed people. You acted in defiance of the laws that you swore to uphold as a security officer, and you continued a streak of violence that is only growing more severe as time passes.”

Then it came. “It is therefore the judgement of this court that you are to be immediately discharged from Starfleet at your current rank. You are also prohibited from seeking employment in any organisation of the Federation that bears arms. In light of your past service and sacrifice, you are discharged honourably with all current decorations and awards, and will be accorded all the privileges of a former member of Starfleet. You are discharged with the gratitude of the United Federation of Planets for your service. Master-At-Arms, please relieve Mister Griffin of his rank insignia.”

The same Andorian who had greeted them before stepped forward. Gently, Cailus standing as still as a rock, the Master-at-Arms reached up to Cailus’s collar and, one by one, removed the three rank pips, two solid and one hollow. Finally, symbolically, he took the combadge off Cailus’s breast before stepping back. Cailus didn’t move an inch, his eyes locked straight forward.

“Lieutenant Brennan, Mister Griffin, this court wishes you the best as you move on from this affair,” the admiral finished solemnly. “This court martial is dismissed.”

As the judiciary panel and other personnel began to file out of the courtroom, Shae was left staring at where the Admiral sat, utterly stunned; she had somewhat assumed that Cailus’ punishment would not be too different than her own. Finally she snapped to and looked at Cailus, still standing at attention. She reached out for him, only to draw her hand back before making contact, afraid of breaking the stillness that now resided in the room. Cailus had been protecting people long before she was ever born, it was all he knew, what would he do now?!

“Cailus?” Shae finally said, breaking the silence with her soft tone. “Dearheart, are you okay?”

Perhaps out of tact, the defence counsel stepped away, triggering a quiet exodus from the courtroom of everyone save the guards. Cailus, for his part, just stayed frozen. His entire world had just shattered. Only Shae’s voice stirred him. He looked at her, and for just a moment, Cailus looked completely lost, before he managed to recollect himself. Taking a deep breath, Cailus shook it off, moving to take Eva.

“Time to go, little one,” he said to the child as he settled her on his hip. Cailus glanced at Shae, adding softly, “Let’s just get out of here, alright? I’ve...no idea how to deal with this.”

Shae nodded gently, then rose. “Yeah, let’s get out of here,” she said, then walked with him out of the courtroom. She almost said something about getting out of these bloody uniforms, but she didn’t want to sound insensitive considering this would be the last time he wore the uniform. That didn’t stop her from unfastening the impossibly tight collar. “Are you ready to go home?” she settled on saying.

Cailus opened his mouth to say ‘yes’ before it hit him: “home” was now irrevocably changed. He had no idea what it would be like, in fact. How the hell did he live without the job? How did he work? Spend the time? What would he do?

“I’m ready,” he said finally. There was a tiny pang of frustration seeing Shae’s rank pips still on her collar, a bit of anger at how uneven their punishments were, but Cailus quashed it. It wasn’t her fault. Instead, he took Shae’s hand, holding it tight as they left the courtroom.