The sick bay of the SDF-4 Liberator is about three decks tall, its medical staff serving over five thousand people, with state-for-the-art medical equipment.
One of the equipment inside the sick bay is an imaging scanner used to examine brains. It is a large box shaped device, with a chamber inside where a patient can lie down.
Sergeant Ken Yama is inside the chamber, which hums. He had laid there for the past minute or so.
"And we are done," says a Spacy corpsman, a young woman with purple hair. "We'll prepare for our next patient."
"I'll walk with you, Sergeant," says Corporal David Banion, wearing a gray outfit instead of the gray sailor's uniform with red neckerchief he wore in court-martial.
He follows the Space Marine sergeant as the latter is escorted by two Spacy policemen.
Oooooooo
"i already have our staff review the brain scans you forwarded to the office," says Commander Sari Priyatosh, sitting at her desk in her office. "Hopefully you can talk your clients to accept a deal, or maybe it will even reinforce their defense."
"That's good, Commander," says Lieutenant Hunter, whose hologram appears in the office. "There is one thing. I've arranged to have the GMP test samples of food and drink- anything our clients ate."
the defense counsel refers to the Galactic Military Police,m which conducts criminal investigations involving the United Earth Forces.
"In case there's something in there."
"The thing is, the GMP forensic lab has a turnaround time of nine days."
"They'll prioritize murder over a mess hall brawl," says the commander.
"The judge gave us three days before we start impaneling a jury. The trial counsel's case is very simple; she could rest her case the same day we pick a jury."
"Yes, and a special court-martial is a lot more stingy on continuances," says Priyatosh. "I once served as a judge in a special court-martial. It didn't go to trial though, the defendant plead guilty and spent some time in the brig in exchange for a chance at a honorable discharge."
She then sees Corporal Banion raise his hand.
"You may speak, Corporal," she continues.
"Well, ma'am, I have a lead," he says. "There was a riot at a county fair down in Planet Alfheim. It happened at the exact same time as the mess hall brawl. It might be worth going down there and taking a look."
"And you are just begging for a chance to visit a planet, Banion," says Commander Priyatosh. "What does Lieutenant Hunter say?"
The lieutenant stays silent for a while. "This is more like grasping at straws than pulling a loose thread, but we have to go down to the planet to take a look. Nothing's a coincidence unless proven so."
"Our staff can make transportation arrangements for you two to the surface."
"I should add, Commander," says Banion, "Robbins Air Base is less than five miles from the county fairgrounds where the riot took place."
"Why thank you, Corporal," says the commander. "Now I have to work on my own case. Continue on."
"Aye aye, ma'am," say Hunter and Banion.
Oooooooo
On the Planet Alfheim, Robbins Air Base takes up ten square miles of land. The robotech war machines and the people to whom they are entrusted, are there to defend the planet from hostile attack and to deal with any crisis that pops up.
A shuttle from the SDF-4 Liberator touches down after a five hour flight; its landing gears rolling on the hard surface. Soon, the shuttle taxies towards some hangars. Police cars soon arrive where the shuttle is.
Ground crew airmen move a moveable staircase to the shuttle. Lieutenant Hunter and Corporal Banion step out into the open air of the planet.
The corporal takes a deep breath. "Air," he says. "Natural air."
"You're breathing in fumes from the chemicals they use for these spacecraft," says the lieutenant.
"Still, sir, this is air, bound only by a planet's gravity. Haven't breathed natural air in months."
"We're not here just to smell the air, Banion. Let's go."
The Air Force security police soon take the two men to the stockade, a large building which holds prisoners awaiting trial and those sentenced to short-term confinement. Hunter is familiar with the procedure, presenting his credential s to the guard, being searched.
He and Banion are escorted inside the stockade, walking inside the hallway. Lieutenant Hunter recalled an incident Commander Priyatosh told him about when the judge of a court-martial ordered her jailed for a night for contempt. Obviously, she did not make contempt a habit or else she would not be his commanding officer.
They arrive inside a room used for meetings with prisoners, veery much like the room in the SDF-4 brig. A woman wearing a blue jacket and skirt is also inside. She has black hair and amber0compelcted skin. Her rank insignia identifies her as a major in the United Nations Air Force.
"Lieutenant Roy Hunter," says the lieutenant, introducing himself. "I am defense counsel for three Space Marines aboard the Liberator.
"Major Marcia Yu," replies the woman. "My client should be on his way.,"
An Air Force security policeman, wearing a blue helmet on his head, brings in a prisoner clad in an orange jumpsuit,. He has black hair and a sharp look on his face. He takes a seat.
"I remind you, Lieutenant, that whatever you say to this man, he can testify in your own court-martial," says Major Yu.
"That is okay, ma'am," replies the prisoner. "I think I want to tell my story."
"I am Lieutenant Roy Hunter," says Hunter. "Your name."
"Messer Oilfield, Third Lieutenant, United Nations Air Force. Presently a veritech combat aviator flying the Stonewell Bellcom VF-25 Messiah."
Lieutenant Hunter smiles. "I went to V-School ten years ago. I trained in the Alphas of the last war. I was maimed in a training accident and it ended my prospects in veritech combat aviation, so I studied law in Columbia University on Earth and became a judge advocate for the Spacy."
"Interesting story, sir," says Lieutenant Oilfield.
"Tell me your story, Lieutenant."
"ROTC followed by V-School. I was assigned here to Robbins after finishing V-School. My commanding officer flew in the Battle of Reflex Point."
"Yes, the battle that liberated Earth from alien occupation. Please continue."
"Some of my teammates and I had the day off, so we checked out the Gradion County Fair-it's only a few miles from here. I remember there was cotton candy and turkey legs and beer."
"I remember my parents took me to a county fair when I was seven, sir," says Corporal Banion. "Oh, please continue."
"We were at the concert stage. A lady was singing. Then, during an intermission, I heard this song."
Hunter's eyes widen a little. "That song was not from the lady, nor a DJ, right?" he asks.
"I heard it in my head, sir," says Oilfield. "it sounded like a children's choir."
The Spacy judge advocate anticipates what the answer will be. "Please continue, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir. I felt detached. I could barely notice what was happening; I saw violent images and heard violent sounds. But then another song pulled me back."
Lieutenant Hunter pushes his cane on the floor to stand up. "Excuse me?" he asks, surprised in his voice as if he got an unexpected answer. "What song?'
"The singer on stage. She was singing. It was pulling me back to reality. I didn't lose myself. When I fully returned, there were so many people. I had blood on my hands. After that, I was taken to the hospital. The next day, I was arrested and told I was being charged with murder!"
"Thank you for your time, Lieutenant Oilfield," says Hunter.
"Sir, right now I have all the time to spare," replies the Air Force lieutenant.
"I do want to ask you some things, Major."
"I can not discuss what my client told me," replies Yu.
"No, I want to ask if you asked for his brain to be scanned."
"Yes," she answers.
"And tox screens?"
"Of course. We're lucky no prohibited substances were found in his blood."
"As crazy as this might sound, ma'am, I'd like a copy of the results. There's an...outside chance that what caused the brawl up in the SDF-4 is the same as whatever caused that riot at the county fair. If there's a common cause, my clients' defense might work."
Major Yu smiles. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
oooooooo
"It definitely looked better," says Corporal Banion.
He and Lieutenant Hunter look around one of the stages at the County Gradion Fairgrounds. There are chalk outlines on the concrete surface. Much of the place is blocked by yellow police tape. Many of the stands that once served food and drink were overturned. The worse of the mess had been cleaned up., though the damage to the stands and the permanent facilities, such as broken windows, is still evident.
The stage itself is a large wooden platform, thirty feet by twelve feet, about two feet up from the ground. Electrical outlets on the surface allow electrical music instruments to be plugged in.
"I see," replies the Spacy judge advocate.
"It did sound like a place to have a good time," says the paralegal. The whole fairgrounds is empty, as the fair was closed after the riot.
"At least we have the security footage. We'll see if it can help us build a case for our clients."
"There's one more thing, sir. Remember when that veritech pilot told us about the girl singing on this very stage?"
"Yeah, I remember, Corporal. He said her song came up."
"I did some digging, Lieutenant, and I found out where she is working."
"Another road trip?"
"The place is less than ten minutes' drive from her. She's working there."
"No stops for souvenirs, Banion. That's an order."
"Aye aye, sir."
ooooooo
Minutes later, Corporal Banion approaches a stoplight on an expressway just a few miles from the county fairgrounds. Stopping the Toyota Avalon used as an Air Force staff car, he waits for the green arrow. Once the green arrow appears, he turns left on the minor road and after a few feet, turns right into a parking lot. He parks right at a spot lined with blue lines, enabled by the blue handicapped placard hanging from the rear-view mirror.
Among the business served by the parking lot is Zippee's Family Friendly Diner, located inside a one-story building with huge-glass windows. Posters advertise deals such as a steak and eggs special and a grilled fish and rice special.
The two of them walk into Zippee's. The main dining room looks like a typical diner with some booths and tables and a white counter with individual stools. A waitress carries a tray with two meals towards one of the booths.
"Hello there," says the corporal. "I'm Corporal David Banion, and I'm looking for a Kaname Buccaneer. Is he here?
"All right," says a gruff-male voice. You can speak to them."
A woman with short red hair walks at the counter. She has a thick apron with Zippee's on it. Both Banion and Lieutenant Hunter approach the counter.
"Hi there," she says, her voice raspy. "I'm Kaname."
"Lieutenant Roy Hunter," says Hunter. "I'm a lawyer with the U.N. Spacy and I'm representing some Space Marines accused of a brawl aboard ship. I'm hoping you know something that could help us with our defense."
Banion holds up his left hand. "Unlike the lieutenant, I don't have a wedding band," he says, grinning. "You can call me David."
The waitress looks at the two men. The man in the khakis has light brown hair, while the man in the gray outfit is significantly taller, with blond hair. His last name is confirmed on the nametape he wears on the right side above his right breast pocket.
"We'd like to ask you about that riot at the county fair," says the judge advocate.
"I've already spoke to the Sheriff at least twice," answers Kaname. "Well, I'm a waitress here and a part-time singer. I live in a youth hostel with eleven other girls, sharing a kitchen and two bathrooms. All I can do is put my meagre savings into a mutual fund so it can grow over the next forty years or so."
"I remember the financial planning lecture back at Spacy boot camp," says the paralegal. "and I live in the men's barracks in Joint Forces Hangar Harmony."
"Please continue," says Lieutenant Hunter.
"I got to sing that day, in exchange for working graveyard shift three nights in a row," says Kaname. I went into intermission, so I can rest my voice for a second set.
"I remember hearing this voice, like a child's voice. He was singing. Then there was a huge brawl among the crowd in front of me. They kept fighting each other. I was scared. So I did what I could do.
"I sang. I sang my song 'AXIA, Love, Hate'. I sang for my life. And then, the brawling stopped. I could see some of them people standing and others kneeling and others lying on the ground. So I kept singing and singing. It was like I could reach into their very souls. I kept singing until my voice box was tired. I stayed there until the sheriff arrived. They even had to deploy Bioroids for crowd control. But the floor in front of the stage, the violence stopped after I started singing again."
"And you also told this to the Sheriff, right?" asks the judge advocate.
"Yes, I did."
Hunter hands her a cardboard card. "My office contact information is here," he says. "We were temporarily deployed aboard ship for the court-martial; you call that number or send an e-mail and they could at least forward messages to us or even connect you."
Kaname looks at the card. "Maybe if I remember something, I leave a message at your office," she says. "Anyway, tomorrow night is our Salisbury steak special."
"Sounds delicious," says Corporal Banion.
"And you will have to miss it," says Lieutenant Hunter. "Later, you can take a vacation here and have...have.."
"Kaname," says the waitress.
"Kaname serve you Salisbury steak. You can even take her on a date to visit the Robotech Masters ruins here. Right now, we have a shuttle to catch. Let's go, Corporal."
"Yes, sir," replies the paralegal, standing up.
Half an hour later, Banion takes a deep breath of Alfheim's air before entering the shuttle that will take him and Hunter back to the SDF-4 Liberator.