Demise

[Boss]

Back near Juneau, Mason ordered the ship's logs be transmitted to Fleet Headquarters. The detonation of the Raleigh's core would have been picked up by the scanner arrays positioned around Alaska, but those details would be sketchy at best. Not to mention entirely lacking in voice data, since the link was made via laser array. Ensign Stevens prepared the report, consulted with Johnson, and sent it off. There was no peace for Darryl, no closure. He'd ordered the death of a childhood friend, and the fact that his friend had ordered him to do so brought no relief. He waved to Eric, "Take the conn, Mathers, I'm going to my quarters."

Two Days Later...

"Captain Darryl R. Mason, LAC 43, LNS Reliant?" The orderly stood, framed by the portal to Darryl's quarters. Flanking him were two Marines in full dress gear carrying high-powered Detroit Arms LAR-23s, standard issue to the elite 41st Home Guard. The 41st were stationed on San Jacinto in Virginia. This man was from Fleet HQ, and the document he extended to Mason bore the seal of Admiral Hale himself. Darryl took it and skimmed over it. His face paled as he re-read it slowly, taking in every word as if it would be his last.

"Captain Mason, you are to accompany the bearer of this subpoena to Virginia pending court-martial for actions undertaken on the 20th of April, 818 AS, which resulted in the loss of the FRC 12, LNS Raleigh and all hands..."

"You have ten minutes to collect what personal effects are listed here, then you will come with me, sir." The orderly handed Darryl a second sheet, then stepped back and let the door iris shut. Darryl crumpled the latter sheet in both hands as he fell backwards onto his bunk. I knew this was coming. That didn't make it any easier to deal with. Time was wasting. He got up, retrieved an overnight bag, and began mechanically loading it with the items listed. Soap, shampoo, comb...