Chapter 25: Captain’s Mast

NSS Borman, October 11, 2141
Captain’s Mast

Alan was called to the Captain’s office in hand cuffs. He was wearing a flight suit trimmed in Martian red, but he had pulled off his name patch. Fliers take all forms of identification off their flight suits when flying in combat. Alan hoped it sent that message to Captain Reisman. He was in the outer office and Chief McCoy was briefing him. “Lieutenant, you are going to be charged with violation of Article 90, Assault of a Superior Commissioned Officer. But we can make this all go away. Just plead guilty, Captain Reisman gives you thirty days and it’s over.”

‘But then so is my career,’ thought Alan. Once found guilty of any article in the code of Military Justice, an officer is no longer eligible to reenlist. He just nodded in response. The chief gestured to a Marine guard who leaned over to unlock Alan’s leg irons but Alan said, “Leave them. You’re just going to be putting them back on in a couple of minutes.”

The Marine looked up at Chief McCoy, who just shrugged. “It’s his Captain’s Mast.” The captain’s office door opened and the Marine guards actually pulled Alan’s Velcro covered feet from the Velcro carpet and carried his weightless body into the captain’s office and planted him in front of the captain’s desk. The captain glared at Alan, waiting for a salute, but Alan’s hand cuffs were chained to his leg irons so he couldn’t lift his hands higher than his naval. “Lieutenant JG Alan B. Scarlett reports sir,” said Alan, staring into Captain Reisman’s eyes.

“A captain’s mast starts with a salute, Lieutenant,” said Captain Reisman.

Alan continued staring at Reisman and wordlessly shrugged, then he lifted his wrists to show that his arms were restrained. “It’s not a big deal, sir. A salute is a sign of respect. I lost all respect for you when you assaulted my trainer.”

“You call her your wife,” growled Captain Reisman. He stepped out from behind his desk and stood in front of Alan. “Do you know that she’s married to a woman?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you know that you’re not the first work husband she’s had and you probably won’t be the last?”

“Sir, are we going to spend the afternoon playing trivia? Because I have a Captain’s Mast that I was invited to attend. It’s scheduled for this hour and I’d hate to miss it because we were playing stupid fucking games...” Alan was silenced by a solid punch in the gut by Captain Reisman.

“You think you’re so smart Mister Scarlett, sleeping with and fucking the hottest piece of ass in the navy and pretending that you’re married to her. Well, you’re not. She’s a Luna whore and you’re just some O-2 with a bachelor’s degree...”

“Doctor,” said Alan. “I’m an O-2 with a doctorate in...” and Reisman silenced him with another punch to the gut. Both punches would have sent him sailing in the zero-g environment, but the chains added mass to his slim body and the Velcro on his shoe soles held tight.

“Mister Scarlett, you are charged with assaulting a superior officer, a violation of Article 90 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Just plead guilty and you’ll have fifteen days in your bunk with your whore ... I mean wife, then the both of you can return to duty, and it all goes away.”

Alan didn’t want it to go away. He wanted a court martial so he could proclaim to the world what this jerk did. “I want a lawyer,” he hissed, trying not to vomit.