(Last Time, on Star Trek – Bravo: [https://bravofleet.com/story/157607/])

Mutiny was the most serious charge filed against Michael at that moment, as fallacious as it was. Between the two of them, both men felt they had sufficient testimony to have the charge fully dismissed without even having to go before a Tribunal. However, that was not the only thing he was being criticized for. Every action, every decision a Command Officer makes, affects the lives of those under them. Michael made several decisions in the 30 minutes he was Captain of the USS Nakatomi, and hundreds of officers lost their lives. Even without his former commanding officer fueling the flames, Michael felt he had to answer for these actions, right or wrong, to know if he truly did the right thing or not.

Mr. Bradley had opted for a small recess in the interview and asked the guards to bring in refreshments. A pitcher of water and some Nutra-Grain bars were brought in for the two. Thankfully, the councilor had some lemon tea-crystal packets to add flavor to their drinks. In truth, Mr. Bradley didn’t need to recess, but he felt it was in the best interest of Michael, who would not have admitted he needed it otherwise. Once the two finished their drinks, the table was cleared once again, and they readied for the next line of questioning.

Mr. Bradley was more confident in his client now, though still having difficult questions to go through, he felt a lot more at ease about Michael’s ability to answer them. In turn, this bit of confidence was felt by the half-betazoid and helped assure him of the things to come. “So, we will continue where we left off, right after you took command of the vessel. These lines of questioning are coming from concerns raised about your command decision-making in times of crisis. This is a general command-level inquiry, and unless found deliberately negligent will not result in legal action. However, I will advise you that anything you say in this interview can be used against you in further disciplinary action by Starfleet Command if they feel it necessary. Do you understand?” Mr. Bradly expounded. Michael nodded as the hovering orb turned green once more, “Yes, I am ready.”

Bradley: “From testimonial reports, you initially called for a saucer separation?”

Michael: “Yes. The saucer was heavily damaged, with hull breaches penetrating several decks. Engineering was having a difficult time keeping up with the demand draw of the structural integrity field’s maintaining the damage. I thought if we could evacuate the surviving personnel to the stardrive and separate, we could restore the rest of the ship’s systems and withdraw from the nebula.”

Bradley: “But that’s not what happened?”

Michael: “No. The Computer was not fully operational and could not manage the separation sequence on its own. We considered a manual separation, but three of the seven docking clamps were damaged. Separation was not possible without also damaging the stardrive section.”

Bradley: “So with engineering struggling to keep up with the integrity fields, hazard and medical teams running around trying to evacuate the saucer section, and you being unable to separate from the damaged portion of the ship, why did you order power to be diverted to the torpedoes instead of calling for all personnel to abandon the ship via escape pods?”

Michael closed his eyes for a moment, lowering his head and taking a deep breath. He knew where this was going, and he knew how crazy he was going to sound for it. But as the memory flashed across his mind, still, he felt it was the only reasonable choice afforded to him. Opening his eyes and once again meeting his council’s gaze, Michael continued.

Michael: “We had checked in with Starfleet three hours prior. Check-ins, by standard, are every twelve hours when in zones that inhibit communications, such as the Nebula did. That meant we were on our own for another nine hours before Starfleet even had any idea we were in trouble. It could have been up to twenty-four hours before another ship was even dispatched to check on us. I ordered available power to the mission pod torpedo array, to allow a level five distress beacon to be fired out of the nebula with a flash copy of our database, stellar coordinates within the nebula, and priority one S.O.S.”

Bradley: (*nodding in approval*) “And that one act may have very well saved what little crew remained. Yet records show that in the time it took to power, load, and fire your distress beacon, 4 integrity fields failed, killing 15 personnel.”

Michael: “I know. I was well aware of that fact.”

Bradley: “Then why, after completing your distress beacon, did you not disable the torpedoes and redivert that power? Why didn’t you call for all hands to abandon ship?”

Michael: “Because there were Letheans in that nebula, and they were getting ready to bear down on us.”

Bradley: “And how did you know this? According to your testimony, the ship’s long-range sensors were inoperable.

Michael: “I’m telepathic. I hear everything, even when I don’t want to. It’s like standing in the center of a crowded sports arena every waking day of my life. Sure, I have trained myself to ignore it, to drown it out and keep focus on what’s in front of me, but it’s always there! I could hear the screams, pleas, and crying of those people on the saucer section. I could feel the overwhelming pressure of anxiety and despair of the crew. But I could hear ‘Them’ too. When telepaths speak to one another, we do so on a higher mental frequency. They could be on opposite ends of that arena and sound like their right next to one another, it overrides that mental noise of everyone else. And I could hear them approach. Hear them discussing how they would get rich scrapping a federation ship for parts, and how they had to make sure everyone onboard died so it couldn’t be traced back to them. I couldn’t abandon ship if I wanted to, they would have just picked off the crew one by one!”

Mr. Bradley leaned back in his chair. Michael could sense he was content with the response, but there was contrition in the manner in which he got it. But both he and Michael knew the line of questioning from a prosecutor would have been just as brutal, if not worse. At least in Mr. Bradley’s hands, he knew when to let off the pressure and give his client a moment to breathe.

Bradley: “You kept the weapons on, because you knew the enemy was coming? Why did you not warn your crew?”

Michael: “I hoped that by demonstrating our weapons were still active, it would have given the Letheans pause…not that it helped. And I didn’t immediately inform the crew because, as you said…they were busy tending to other critical issues. I was worried that adding that fuel to the fire prematurely might have hindered their efforts. I did what I could to prepare them for the fight to come, while they all focused on saving as many as they could.”

Bradley: “Blackbox data confirmed three Lethean Nemosin-class raiders engaged the Nakatomi five minutes after firing the distress beacon. Their pattern of attack confirms your claims of intent to disable the ship, as they did not deliberately target primary systems and structures. Records also show emergency thrusters being used for evasive maneuvers, diversion of power from most non-critical systems to shields, and one enemy ship destroyed by a torpedo launch.”

Mr. Bradley looked up from his data PADD, waving the recording device off once again, and gave Michael a warm smile. “You’re doing great so far, and I’m very confident this line of questioning alone will get everything overturned. There is just one last item we need to address before I can try and get you out of here. Are you ready?” Michael took a deep, assuring breath and nodded in agreement to continue. Mr. Bradly once more waved his hand to activate the recording device and dove into the final question.

Bradley: “At what point in all of this chaos, did you discover Captain Brownson was still alive?”

(To be continued.)