- Joined
- Dec 12, 2007
- Location
- California
“This session is now called to order.”
The soft chime reverberated throughout the room with a tenacity unfitting its gentle nature. It resounded off great, gleaming blue panels, their metallic sheen reflecting sound and light with equal alacrity. Palpitations of a unified heart of justice could be heard in the dying timbre of the noise as it continued to echo relentlessly around the room. All ambient chattering died down immediately, and all focus was shifted toward the front of the great chamber.
At the front, a panel of men and women, all on equal level, in decorous military uniforms. Facing them, one could make out the faces of some of the most notable members of the Artisan Coalition. On the audience’s left, sat the aging, yet still beautiful, General Catherine Ulharas, her knowledge of medicine and science inherent in her name; next to her, General Isaac Adama, a long-standing field general, sat and looked ahead without mercy; next to him was the cold and calculating, and rather young, General Roy Tambuk, his reputation as the Chessmaster commanding a portion of the silence permeating the room; on his left sat his mentor, General Yridi Zwi, the most famous and prestigious of all field generals; in the center sat Commander Jeremy Darvis, whose function as judge, jury, and executioner was justified by his reputation for impartiality and compassion.
To the left of Darvis sat an empty chair, its emptiness shouting the sadness of the men and women surrounding it; on the other side of it sat the slightly diminutive, but all the more imperious, General Bermudus Rel, the face of fury and keeper of the technological arcane as head of the Academy of Military Arts and Practices; and at the end, totally opposite of General Ulharas, sat the terrifying and inspirational Master of Enkou, General Dmitri Moreschvek. The seven of them stared forward, solemn and at the same time grimly aware of their highest duty, at one man.
“General Jacob Kawlas Corragan,” began Commander Darvis, “you are hereby charged with high treason against the Artisan Coalition for your actions in recent weeks while commanding its forces in the island skirmishes of Bos Moraes against the rebellious citizens there.”
Jacob Corragan, a field general, stood impassive while he faced his peers; his uniform was as decorous as the rest, and he stood as imperiously as they sat. Behind him in the front row sat the Ruling Council of the Republic of Sicerion, their emotions far less masked than those of their military counterparts. They wore their own formal, civilian clothing, and looked uncomfortable in this definitively military environment.
“Your misconduct includes: undue corporal punishment toward soldiers who would not carry out your orders against civilians in rebellion; undue verbal assaults on the visceral fears and worries of soldiers who would not carry out your orders against civilians in rebellion; for ordering the use of HADES canons against civilians in rebellion; for targeting civilians in rebellion; for attempting to create a second front with the Magus Draconus, directly against Coalition Policy of Non-engagement; for the unauthorized discharging of six Majors, thirteen Lieutenants, and forty-seven Ensigns under your command, who would not carry out your orders against civilians in rebellion; for repeated use of excessive force towards uncooperative civilians; for cruel and unusual punishment of prisoners of war from rebellious forces; ignoring subpoena; contempt of Court Martial; conduct unbefitting the rank of General.”
Each successive charge against Corragan was read without emotion by Commander Darvis, rushed, as if he were being stung by the very words he read and was attempting to appear impassive. Councilman Arnold Kim sat behind General Corragan, and with each charge, his grin grew slightly wider as he contemplated the humiliation this would allow him to bestow on an individual he saw with passionate disgust. Nobody in front of Corragan so much as twitched during the litany of offenses.
“Do you deny any of these charges, General?”
“Yes, sir. All of them.”
Darvis frowned as he said, “Very well. Major Keder?”
A very flustered Major, in his full military uniform, stood up, and began speaking. “Commander Darvis, I would like to call Major Nekowitz to the stand at this time.”
Darvis looked at some papers in front of him, shuffled them a bit, and pulled one to the top and said, “Major Nekowitz to the witness stand, please.”
From the audience, another member of the military stood up and advanced toward the front. He sat down behind a barrier on equal level to the High Command, sitting with his back to the side wall, General Ulharas to his left.
“Major Nekowitz,” began Keder, “Can you recall to us the events that occurred the night you were discharged?”
Nekowitz looked quickly between Darvis, Keder, and Corragan, and licked his lips nervously. He began in a tremulous voice, “Yes, sir. General Corragan had summoned me to his tent, and delivered me paper signed orders to use our smaller HADES-M canon on a section of housing in Rulam Village. I politely told the General that I would not carry out his orders. He lit them on fire, and then ripped off my Major’s insignia. He shoved me out of his tent and told me to get Major Braum before I left for Sicerion.”
“Did he ever tell you that you had been discharged, Major?” Keder asked.
“No, sir. Though, it felt implied,” replied Nekowitz. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable. Whatever Corragan had done, Nekowitz still felt some remnants of loyalty to his old commanding officer, and he hoped that Corragan would forgive him. He had to do this. He could not resist testifying.
“You said he burned the orders he had shown you, yes?” Keder had walked in front of the table he had been seated at, along with a few lieutenants, and walked toward Nekowitz.
“Yes, sir.”
“Is this true, General Corragan?” he said, turning to the General.
Corragan did not answer. A major next to him, Vincent Kursch, leaned and whispered in his ear. He then spoke.
“Yes, it is true.”
Murmurs began to resonate in the chamber, and after it did not abate, Darvis rang the soft chime again. Instantly, the din died down and the questioning resumed.
Keder had returned to his seat in the mean time, and now Kursch stood up, and addressed Nekowitz.
“Major Nekowitz, can you please give us the exact wording and circumstances of General Corragan’s orders to you on the night in question?” he asked, sounding confident.
Nekowitz shifted uncomfortably. He tried to recount the words, and when he seemed sure, he said, “The orders said, ‘Fire two blasts from a Class HADES-M Canon toward the third row of houses in block 1000 if the citizens of Rulam have not turned over their hidden rebel soldiers to us by 2359 hours tonight.’ He had written and signed it with an old-fashioned pen on paper.”
“Is this true, General Corragan?” Kursch asked, turning toward the General, who remained impassive and betrayed no emotions.
“Yes, it is true,” he said, staring blankly forward. He seemed to be eying the wall between Zwi and Darvis.
“And, what time of day did you receive these orders, Major Nekowitz?”
Nekowitz looked sick. He finally managed to say, “1330 hours, sir.”
“So, the citizens of Rulam had over ten hours to either turn in their hidden, or to evacuate?”
“Yes...sir, they would have had that much time.”
Kursch turned and sat back down.
Nekowitz looked beside himself, and seemed bursting to say more. He looked beseechingly at Darvis, who was not looking at him, and then to Keder, who had called him. Don’t leave me here! he pleaded with his eyes as they met Keder’s.
“Major Nekowitz dismissed,” Darvis said, looking down at more papers in front of him.
He had no choice but to stand up and head back to the audience. He tried to look at Corragan, he tried to convey the regret he was feeling. He couldn’t help it that he had been the one to receive those orders!
Keder stood up as Nekowitz passed them, and said, “Commander Darvis, I would like to call Major Braum to the stand at this time.”
Darvis shuffled more papers, and found the one he was looking for much faster than he had found the previous one. He had been expecting Braum to be called. The Major’s compliance with Corragan was as exemplary as it was horrific.
“Major Braum to the witness stand, please,” he said, not looking up. From the audience, a tall, handsome man had walked to the witness stand and sat with grace unexpected of a man his size.
Keder began in ernest, addressing the room at large as much as he was addressing Braum. He was no longer nervous as he had been at the beginning of the trial. He spoke confidently and avoided eye contact with Kursch and Corragan. “Major Braum,” he began, “Do you recall being sent to General Corragan’s tent around 1340 hours on the night Major Nekowitz was discharged?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Did you follow those orders?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“And what happened when you arrived at General Corragan’s tent?”
“He handed me paper signed orders, sir, telling me to use a Class HADES-M Canon on the third row of houses in 1000 block of Rulam’s residential district if the citizens did not turn over their hidden rebel soldiers to us by the end of the day.”
Braum did not seem as conflicted about his testimony as Nekowitz had. Much as Corragan had run his life for several months in Bos Moraes, the Major was loyal only to the Coalition. The Artisan people ruled his life above all else.
“Did you comply with these orders, Major?”
“Yes, sir, I did.” “And at any point did General Corragan specify that you would need to once again demand the hidden soldiers from the citizens of Rulam, and that they now had a time limit?”
“No, sir, he did not.”
“Were you aware of any orders to someone else telling them to warn the citizens of Rulam?”
“No, sir, I was not. It was not my concern. I had my orders, and it was up to the General to run the campaign.”
Keder spoke a little louder as he asked, “So you were aware that you would be incinerating innocent civilians as they slept in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, sir, I was. It was not my place to question the General’s orders.”
“Indeed, the responsibility is on him to understa-” Keder knew his mistake even before he was interrupted.
“Commander, I object,” Kursch said, rising quickly from his chair, “the Major’s personal opinion on the responsibility of a commanding officer is not on trial here.” He did not sit down until Darvis spoke.
“Sustained. Major Keder, you will ask only questions, and will not give personal opinions on statements received as an answer.”
“Yes, sir,” Keder said, and he looked back at Braum. “How many civilians died that night?”
Braum did not move, or intimate any emotions as he said, “Sixteen families. Approximately thirty-six men over the age of eighteen, thirty-three women over the age of eighteen, and forty-one children under the age of eighteen. In total, approximately one hundred and ten people perished, sir.”
“Were there any survivors?” Keder started to sound almost poisonous.
“Yes, sir, but none lasted.”
“Thank you, Major Braum,” Keder said, and finally he betrayed the tiniest smirk as he sat back down.
Kursch stood up and began to question Major Braum, also. “Major, on the night in question, how long had you been stationed near Rulam Village?”
“Fifty-two days, sir,” he replied.
“And how many of those days were spent in cease-fire with the enemy?”
“None, sir.”
“None?”
“Not mutually, sir. For the first forty-eight days, we were ordered not to fire a shot, and were ordered instead to attempt to non-violently extract the rebels. At least two members of the Coalition died each day, sir.”
“Would you call this an effort to preserve the lives of the villagers?” Kursch asked, sounding sure of himself. He could not help sneaking glances at Keder.
“The phrase General Corragan used was, ‘We must never forget that we are here fighting our own, and we must make every effort to minimize their suffering.’”
“Yet, he ordered you to kill one hundred and ten innocents?” Kursch was a good actor. The fake confusion in his voice was convincing, and lent itself nicely to his argument.
“No, sir, not all innocent. We identified twenty bodies as being among the fifty-seven rebel soldiers we were seeking,” Braum said, maintaining the constant demeanor of indifference. A military man right to his core.
“Did the other thirty-seven surrender themselves eventually?” Kursch asked, again with the fake confusion.
“Yes, sir, the next morning at first light, they were all in front of our camp, unarmed,” he replied.
“So...out of over twelve thousand citizens of Rulam Village, ninety civilians died and all fifty-seven enemy combatants were killed or captured?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you,” he said, and sat down.
The proceedings went on for days, with various Majors, Lieutenants, and Ensigns being called in to testify, with Kursch and Keder going back and forth with their questions. All the while, the various hidden activities of the Coalition in Bos Moraes became more and more public. All kinds of physical evidence was produced. There were paper signed orders that had survived, video footage from PSDs, audio recordings, transcripts of calls from the High Command, photographs of the carnage. Both Majors were experts at their craft - every action Major Keder portrayed as unforgivable and irrational, Major Kursch contradicted and seemed to justify. After two weeks, Commander Darvis dismissed the final witness.
“The High Command will deliberate, and will return with a verdict within four hours time,” he said. “At no point will we hear further testimony or consider further evidence. General Corragan will be escorted to a maximum security holding cell, not for his imprisonment, but his protection until he is either rendered guilty, or is exonerated. Dismissed.”
Most stood up and began shuffling out as the High Command quickly rose and filed into a room behind their panel. The Ruling Council remained seated; they had to wait and find out if there would be need for a Civil case against General Corragan for crimes against the Republic of Sicerion.
Corragan was led away.
The soft chime reverberated throughout the room with a tenacity unfitting its gentle nature. It resounded off great, gleaming blue panels, their metallic sheen reflecting sound and light with equal alacrity. Palpitations of a unified heart of justice could be heard in the dying timbre of the noise as it continued to echo relentlessly around the room. All ambient chattering died down immediately, and all focus was shifted toward the front of the great chamber.
At the front, a panel of men and women, all on equal level, in decorous military uniforms. Facing them, one could make out the faces of some of the most notable members of the Artisan Coalition. On the audience’s left, sat the aging, yet still beautiful, General Catherine Ulharas, her knowledge of medicine and science inherent in her name; next to her, General Isaac Adama, a long-standing field general, sat and looked ahead without mercy; next to him was the cold and calculating, and rather young, General Roy Tambuk, his reputation as the Chessmaster commanding a portion of the silence permeating the room; on his left sat his mentor, General Yridi Zwi, the most famous and prestigious of all field generals; in the center sat Commander Jeremy Darvis, whose function as judge, jury, and executioner was justified by his reputation for impartiality and compassion.
To the left of Darvis sat an empty chair, its emptiness shouting the sadness of the men and women surrounding it; on the other side of it sat the slightly diminutive, but all the more imperious, General Bermudus Rel, the face of fury and keeper of the technological arcane as head of the Academy of Military Arts and Practices; and at the end, totally opposite of General Ulharas, sat the terrifying and inspirational Master of Enkou, General Dmitri Moreschvek. The seven of them stared forward, solemn and at the same time grimly aware of their highest duty, at one man.
“General Jacob Kawlas Corragan,” began Commander Darvis, “you are hereby charged with high treason against the Artisan Coalition for your actions in recent weeks while commanding its forces in the island skirmishes of Bos Moraes against the rebellious citizens there.”
Jacob Corragan, a field general, stood impassive while he faced his peers; his uniform was as decorous as the rest, and he stood as imperiously as they sat. Behind him in the front row sat the Ruling Council of the Republic of Sicerion, their emotions far less masked than those of their military counterparts. They wore their own formal, civilian clothing, and looked uncomfortable in this definitively military environment.
“Your misconduct includes: undue corporal punishment toward soldiers who would not carry out your orders against civilians in rebellion; undue verbal assaults on the visceral fears and worries of soldiers who would not carry out your orders against civilians in rebellion; for ordering the use of HADES canons against civilians in rebellion; for targeting civilians in rebellion; for attempting to create a second front with the Magus Draconus, directly against Coalition Policy of Non-engagement; for the unauthorized discharging of six Majors, thirteen Lieutenants, and forty-seven Ensigns under your command, who would not carry out your orders against civilians in rebellion; for repeated use of excessive force towards uncooperative civilians; for cruel and unusual punishment of prisoners of war from rebellious forces; ignoring subpoena; contempt of Court Martial; conduct unbefitting the rank of General.”
Each successive charge against Corragan was read without emotion by Commander Darvis, rushed, as if he were being stung by the very words he read and was attempting to appear impassive. Councilman Arnold Kim sat behind General Corragan, and with each charge, his grin grew slightly wider as he contemplated the humiliation this would allow him to bestow on an individual he saw with passionate disgust. Nobody in front of Corragan so much as twitched during the litany of offenses.
“Do you deny any of these charges, General?”
“Yes, sir. All of them.”
Darvis frowned as he said, “Very well. Major Keder?”
A very flustered Major, in his full military uniform, stood up, and began speaking. “Commander Darvis, I would like to call Major Nekowitz to the stand at this time.”
Darvis looked at some papers in front of him, shuffled them a bit, and pulled one to the top and said, “Major Nekowitz to the witness stand, please.”
From the audience, another member of the military stood up and advanced toward the front. He sat down behind a barrier on equal level to the High Command, sitting with his back to the side wall, General Ulharas to his left.
“Major Nekowitz,” began Keder, “Can you recall to us the events that occurred the night you were discharged?”
Nekowitz looked quickly between Darvis, Keder, and Corragan, and licked his lips nervously. He began in a tremulous voice, “Yes, sir. General Corragan had summoned me to his tent, and delivered me paper signed orders to use our smaller HADES-M canon on a section of housing in Rulam Village. I politely told the General that I would not carry out his orders. He lit them on fire, and then ripped off my Major’s insignia. He shoved me out of his tent and told me to get Major Braum before I left for Sicerion.”
“Did he ever tell you that you had been discharged, Major?” Keder asked.
“No, sir. Though, it felt implied,” replied Nekowitz. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable. Whatever Corragan had done, Nekowitz still felt some remnants of loyalty to his old commanding officer, and he hoped that Corragan would forgive him. He had to do this. He could not resist testifying.
“You said he burned the orders he had shown you, yes?” Keder had walked in front of the table he had been seated at, along with a few lieutenants, and walked toward Nekowitz.
“Yes, sir.”
“Is this true, General Corragan?” he said, turning to the General.
Corragan did not answer. A major next to him, Vincent Kursch, leaned and whispered in his ear. He then spoke.
“Yes, it is true.”
Murmurs began to resonate in the chamber, and after it did not abate, Darvis rang the soft chime again. Instantly, the din died down and the questioning resumed.
Keder had returned to his seat in the mean time, and now Kursch stood up, and addressed Nekowitz.
“Major Nekowitz, can you please give us the exact wording and circumstances of General Corragan’s orders to you on the night in question?” he asked, sounding confident.
Nekowitz shifted uncomfortably. He tried to recount the words, and when he seemed sure, he said, “The orders said, ‘Fire two blasts from a Class HADES-M Canon toward the third row of houses in block 1000 if the citizens of Rulam have not turned over their hidden rebel soldiers to us by 2359 hours tonight.’ He had written and signed it with an old-fashioned pen on paper.”
“Is this true, General Corragan?” Kursch asked, turning toward the General, who remained impassive and betrayed no emotions.
“Yes, it is true,” he said, staring blankly forward. He seemed to be eying the wall between Zwi and Darvis.
“And, what time of day did you receive these orders, Major Nekowitz?”
Nekowitz looked sick. He finally managed to say, “1330 hours, sir.”
“So, the citizens of Rulam had over ten hours to either turn in their hidden, or to evacuate?”
“Yes...sir, they would have had that much time.”
Kursch turned and sat back down.
Nekowitz looked beside himself, and seemed bursting to say more. He looked beseechingly at Darvis, who was not looking at him, and then to Keder, who had called him. Don’t leave me here! he pleaded with his eyes as they met Keder’s.
“Major Nekowitz dismissed,” Darvis said, looking down at more papers in front of him.
He had no choice but to stand up and head back to the audience. He tried to look at Corragan, he tried to convey the regret he was feeling. He couldn’t help it that he had been the one to receive those orders!
Keder stood up as Nekowitz passed them, and said, “Commander Darvis, I would like to call Major Braum to the stand at this time.”
Darvis shuffled more papers, and found the one he was looking for much faster than he had found the previous one. He had been expecting Braum to be called. The Major’s compliance with Corragan was as exemplary as it was horrific.
“Major Braum to the witness stand, please,” he said, not looking up. From the audience, a tall, handsome man had walked to the witness stand and sat with grace unexpected of a man his size.
Keder began in ernest, addressing the room at large as much as he was addressing Braum. He was no longer nervous as he had been at the beginning of the trial. He spoke confidently and avoided eye contact with Kursch and Corragan. “Major Braum,” he began, “Do you recall being sent to General Corragan’s tent around 1340 hours on the night Major Nekowitz was discharged?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Did you follow those orders?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“And what happened when you arrived at General Corragan’s tent?”
“He handed me paper signed orders, sir, telling me to use a Class HADES-M Canon on the third row of houses in 1000 block of Rulam’s residential district if the citizens did not turn over their hidden rebel soldiers to us by the end of the day.”
Braum did not seem as conflicted about his testimony as Nekowitz had. Much as Corragan had run his life for several months in Bos Moraes, the Major was loyal only to the Coalition. The Artisan people ruled his life above all else.
“Did you comply with these orders, Major?”
“Yes, sir, I did.” “And at any point did General Corragan specify that you would need to once again demand the hidden soldiers from the citizens of Rulam, and that they now had a time limit?”
“No, sir, he did not.”
“Were you aware of any orders to someone else telling them to warn the citizens of Rulam?”
“No, sir, I was not. It was not my concern. I had my orders, and it was up to the General to run the campaign.”
Keder spoke a little louder as he asked, “So you were aware that you would be incinerating innocent civilians as they slept in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, sir, I was. It was not my place to question the General’s orders.”
“Indeed, the responsibility is on him to understa-” Keder knew his mistake even before he was interrupted.
“Commander, I object,” Kursch said, rising quickly from his chair, “the Major’s personal opinion on the responsibility of a commanding officer is not on trial here.” He did not sit down until Darvis spoke.
“Sustained. Major Keder, you will ask only questions, and will not give personal opinions on statements received as an answer.”
“Yes, sir,” Keder said, and he looked back at Braum. “How many civilians died that night?”
Braum did not move, or intimate any emotions as he said, “Sixteen families. Approximately thirty-six men over the age of eighteen, thirty-three women over the age of eighteen, and forty-one children under the age of eighteen. In total, approximately one hundred and ten people perished, sir.”
“Were there any survivors?” Keder started to sound almost poisonous.
“Yes, sir, but none lasted.”
“Thank you, Major Braum,” Keder said, and finally he betrayed the tiniest smirk as he sat back down.
Kursch stood up and began to question Major Braum, also. “Major, on the night in question, how long had you been stationed near Rulam Village?”
“Fifty-two days, sir,” he replied.
“And how many of those days were spent in cease-fire with the enemy?”
“None, sir.”
“None?”
“Not mutually, sir. For the first forty-eight days, we were ordered not to fire a shot, and were ordered instead to attempt to non-violently extract the rebels. At least two members of the Coalition died each day, sir.”
“Would you call this an effort to preserve the lives of the villagers?” Kursch asked, sounding sure of himself. He could not help sneaking glances at Keder.
“The phrase General Corragan used was, ‘We must never forget that we are here fighting our own, and we must make every effort to minimize their suffering.’”
“Yet, he ordered you to kill one hundred and ten innocents?” Kursch was a good actor. The fake confusion in his voice was convincing, and lent itself nicely to his argument.
“No, sir, not all innocent. We identified twenty bodies as being among the fifty-seven rebel soldiers we were seeking,” Braum said, maintaining the constant demeanor of indifference. A military man right to his core.
“Did the other thirty-seven surrender themselves eventually?” Kursch asked, again with the fake confusion.
“Yes, sir, the next morning at first light, they were all in front of our camp, unarmed,” he replied.
“So...out of over twelve thousand citizens of Rulam Village, ninety civilians died and all fifty-seven enemy combatants were killed or captured?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you,” he said, and sat down.
The proceedings went on for days, with various Majors, Lieutenants, and Ensigns being called in to testify, with Kursch and Keder going back and forth with their questions. All the while, the various hidden activities of the Coalition in Bos Moraes became more and more public. All kinds of physical evidence was produced. There were paper signed orders that had survived, video footage from PSDs, audio recordings, transcripts of calls from the High Command, photographs of the carnage. Both Majors were experts at their craft - every action Major Keder portrayed as unforgivable and irrational, Major Kursch contradicted and seemed to justify. After two weeks, Commander Darvis dismissed the final witness.
“The High Command will deliberate, and will return with a verdict within four hours time,” he said. “At no point will we hear further testimony or consider further evidence. General Corragan will be escorted to a maximum security holding cell, not for his imprisonment, but his protection until he is either rendered guilty, or is exonerated. Dismissed.”
Most stood up and began shuffling out as the High Command quickly rose and filed into a room behind their panel. The Ruling Council remained seated; they had to wait and find out if there would be need for a Civil case against General Corragan for crimes against the Republic of Sicerion.
Corragan was led away.