Honor Harrington: My Near-Fatal Near-Mistake
A very short one. At the Peep/Masadan prison on Blackbird, a moon in the Yeltsin system, the Masadan Captain Williams took in 53 POWs from HMS Madrigal, courtesy of Commander Thomas Theisman of the People's Navy of Haven. In accordance with the Articles of War, and as the decent person he was, he made every effort to recover them, treat them as best he could and hand them over to his superior officer...in this case, Williams. 26 of them were women.
But when Captain Honor Harrington captured Blackbird, to Theisman's utter, sincere horror, she found nineteen POWs. In a heinous violation of the Articles of War pertaining to POWs, the other 34 had been brutally murdered...at the very least.
Of the survivors, only two were women, both of whom had been severely beaten - and gang-raped. Commander Mercedes Brigham was almost killed, and Ensign Mai-Ling Jackson wasn't in much better shape, found clinging protectively to Mercedes, both filthy and naked, so desperate to protect her that even the medics could hardly persuade her gently to let her charge go so they could help her. Even such a hardened Marine as Captain Susan Hibson was near tears.
In utter, cold fury, Honor came this close to blowing Williams' head off. Few could blame her. I couldn't. Despite what it would do to her career if a serving officer in Her Majesty's Royal Manticoran Navy were to execute a military prisoner without trial, i.e. end said career, I was almost hoping she would kill him.
Thankfully, Lieutenant Prescott David Tremaine ("Scotty") realised what she intended and - barely - stopped her, with every scrap of strength he had and a desperate plea to whatever rational mind she still possessed. Luckily for the RMN (and us readers!), he and Admiral Matthews got through to her and she allowed Williams a trial. Fair, just and entirely above board - and she witnessed the execution of the sentence handed down by a Grayson court of hanging.
In Honor Among Enemies, David Weber said she and Scotty had never discussed the incident, and never would.
My muse has seen fit to disagree. Maybe David's right. I think he was. But she doesn't. So...
Steadholder Harrington's Residence, Harrington Steading, Grayson
Shortly before The Short Victorious War
Honor sighed in mild exasperation. True, Grayson owed her for managing to prevent its wholesale nuking by those Masada fanatics, at the cost of most of Fearless's crew. True, she had signed the Treaty of Alliance in lieu of Admiral Courvosier (oh, Raoul, I miss you) to bring Manticore and Grayson together in what was sure to be a mutually beneficial partnership. True, she had pitted a heavy cruiser against a battlecruiser, an encounter which by any conventional standards was a foregone conclusion grossly in favour of the larger, more powerful, better-armed ship - and, somehow, had won the battle.
But did Benjamin Mayhew, the Protector of Grayson, have to go so overboard in his gratitude as to gift her with an entire bloody mansion?
MacGuinness, her Chief Steward's Mate, read her thoughts from her face (she would, he thought wryly, make a terrible poker player) and said amusedly, "Of course he did, Milady. You're a Steadholder now, remember. By Grayson custom, he couldn't give you anything smaller -"
"Or less ostentatious?" the born former yeoman groused.
"- rather, he had to give you a dwelling which reflects and befits your status. And, after all, you are a holder of the Star of Grayson - plus the only female holder thereof," MacGuinness pointed out airily.
"Why," Honor complained, "do I get the feeling that you, the Protector, Her Majesty, the Prime Minister, the First Space Lord, White Haven and, yes, even you, Stinker," she reproached her shoulder companion Nimitz, "are enjoying this?"
"Probably," he smiled, "because we are, Milady."
"Thought so!"
"But," he added, more soberly, "it's not as if you don't deserve it. Taking on a battlecruiser with a heavy cruiser? I'm not, technically, a military man, Milady, but even I know what a gross mismatch that is. I understand the instructors at Saganami Island are incorporating what you did into the manuals."
"I was lucky," she protested. "Thunder of God wasn't crewed by experienced Peeps - if she had been, she'd have fought much smarter than she did, we wouldn't have gotten anything through her ECM - or not much, anyway - and Lieutenant Cardones wouldn't have been able to pull off the tactical miracle that he did by getting old-fashioned nukes past a Sultan-class ship's defences!"
"All of which merely reinforces the position of the Protector and Her Majesty," he countered, "which is that you deserve this, Milady."
"But -"
"Honor," he interrupted, using her given name for the first time since - well, ever - "will you just take the win and be done with it? Even Nimitz is getting bored."
Sure enough, the cream and grey treecat yawned...but Honor knew he was putting it on. She laughed and surrendered.
"Okay, okay! I'm what the newsies like to call a heroine! Happy now?"
"Ecstatic," MacGuinness replied dryly. Nimitz bleeked in merriment. "And on that note," he sniffed, "I do believe supper's ready."
"Including roast rabbit and celery for Greedy Guts here?" she grinned, tickling Nimitz. He mock-squealed and retaliated, making sure as he always did to keep his lethal claws sheathed. Grayson had had a most graphic demonstration of what he could do with them when he and Honor had faced off against would-be assassins who had badly underestimated both of them.
"I had thought he'd already eaten."
"Oh, he has," she giggled, "but you know what he's like!"
"Bleek!" Nimitz protested with a put-upon air...which, once again, she knew was false.
Later that evening
"Milady?" Armsman Andrew LaFollet ventured as he peeked into her study, where she and Nimitz were playing with a laser pointer (even after more than two thousand years Ante Diaspora, they were still popular with cat owners...and 'cat bond partners, too - remember, one does not own a treecat, though the Mesans and others have tried). It was more entertaining than with a cat, as Nimitz, with his innate intelligence, knew perfectly well where the spot was coming from but played with it and Honor anyway.
She was vividly reminded of the 'comic strip' Uncle Jacques had discovered c/o the Society for Creative Anachronism when she was ten T-years old, which depicted a cat who'd nommed up the laser dot, shimmered with energy and blasted her hapless owner, though the cat was revealed to be dreaming. Or indulging in wishful thinking. She'd laughed hysterically, as a smiling Jacques had intended.
Honor looked up. "Yes, Andrew?"
"You have a visitor, Milady," Andrew told her, "one Lieutenant Tremaine."
"Scotty?" she said delightedly. "Please show him in!"
He did so, and Scotty shook her hand. "Welcome to Grayson, Scotty! Sit down!"
"Thanks, Captain," Tremaine nodded, "the gravity here is a bit higher than Manticore's."
"Sissy," she teased, though as her homeworld of Sphinx was a 1.35g world, Grayson's gravity was actually lighter by her standards. "Can I press you to an Old Tilman?"
"Thank you, Captain, I believe I will," he smiled. MacGuinness was way ahead of them, delivering a tray with two ice-cold steins; he handed one to Tremaine.
"What's on your mind?" Honor asked.
"Blackbird," he answered soberly.
She couldn't help shivering slightly at the name. Blackbird. It was almost a curse to her. "In what context?"
He looked uncomfortable. "We, uh, never talked about, uh…"
"...me almost ending my own career?" she finished softly. "You exerting everything you had, physically and emotionally, to stop me from making the biggest mistake of my life? And it would have been a mistake, Scotty," she went on with equal gravity and sobriety. "Completely contrary to the Articles of War. If I had killed Williams, you would've been entirely justified in placing me under arrest, CO or not. Oh it would've been satisfying personally, but a Queen's Officer can't - mustn't - allow personal feelings to obscure her duty. And I very nearly did, Scotty.
"With all due respect, I doubt you could really understand my fury at what that monster had done, because you're not a woman. You can't appreciate what rape does to a woman, either experienced or just witnessed, as I did. I...I wanted to kill him. I wanted to watch him die." Her voice dropped. "Even knowing what it would do to my career...nothing seemed as important as getting justice for Mercedes and Mai-Ling and all the others. No," she shook her head, reconsidering, "not justice. Revenge. I wanted him to pay for what he'd done."
"He did," Tremaine quietly pointed out, "at the end of a Grayson hangman's noose."
"After a fair and honest trial," Honor agreed. "Which, even as the murdering, raping scum he was, he was legally entitled to." She sighed. "I wonder about that sometimes. But then I remember something Uncle Jacques once showed me from the SCA Archives. It was an extract from a...videotape, I think he said. A 'science fiction' series on 'TV' called Star Trek. Used to be very popular, I gathered.
"A character was discussing the old American Constitution and saying to a tribal leader that the words had to apply to both sides. The leader queried it, and the character said, 'They must apply to everyone, or they mean nothing!' And so it is with the Articles, Scotty. No matter what he'd done -"
"Allegedly done," Tremaine pointed out.
"- yes, allegedly done, good point - he deserved a trial...even if the verdict was a foregone conclusion."
The Judicial Chamber, Grayson
At Williams' trial
It hadn't been quite so simple. Grayson, as a patriarchal society, was fiercely protective of its women (though they knew perfectly well that Honor Harrington didn't need to be protected, force of nature that she and Nimitz were). They were seen almost as sacred; what few rapes Grayson's history held were committed by off-worlders. No decent Grayson man, even drunk, would even think of forcing a woman into carnal acts.
If only because if he did, his fellows would tear him apart...if the women didn't get to him first.
The trial opened with a statement from the prosecution. Normally this would be followed by a similar one from the defense. But the Honorable Henry Mayhew (no relation to the Protector) said to the judge, "May it please the court...Your Honour, my oath of service binds me to defend this...man," he looked sour, "who has been accused of the most heinous crime of rape. But the evidence against him is, frankly, overwhelming. There can surely be no justification for carnal knowledge of a woman against her will. The Tester, the Intercessor and the Comforter forbid it, and rightly so.
"I have looked deep within my heart, but I find that as a God-fearing and righteous man I cannot reconcile my duty with my feelings, try though I might. I have prayed to Father Church, and I have sought the advice of Reverend Hanks. All he could tell me was to answer to my own conscience in this Test. I do not believe I can carry out my solemn duty in the face of this accusation. It is my duty to defend him to the best of my ability, that he might receive the fair and honest trial to which even such as he is entitled.
"But...I have seen Commander Brigham, and the terrible injuries she has suffered to her person and to her immortal soul," he went on, tears in his eyes. "I have three beautiful wives, and I thank merciful God that, Grayson being what it is, I shall never see them in such a terrible state. Therefore I cannot defend him. It falls to me to surrender to the mercy of this august Court. In truth, Your Honour, if the Law and the Tester permitted it, I swear on the Keys that I would put him to death myself!"
Naturally there was uproar. "Silence in court!" the judge ordered loudly. "Counsels for the Defense and Prosecution, approach the Bench!"
Mayhew and his counterpart, the Honorable David Bonham, did so. His Honour Steven Hawking (a very distant relative of the famous pre-Diaspora scientist) looked at both and asked quietly, "How am I supposed to conduct a fair trial if Counsel for the Defense refuses to do so?"
"I do not refuse, Your Honour," Mayhew said as quietly. "I say only that I cannot defend Williams. David, I think you've won this one."
"Throwing oneself upon the mercy of the Court is permitted, Your Honour," Bonham noted.
"I," Hawking said dangerously, "have been a judge since before either of you was even born. Do not presume to lecture me on the Law!"
"Forgive me, Your Honour," Bonham bowed slightly, "I was merely pointing it out, not presuming to instruct you. By the Tester's grace, I wouldn't dare."
"Mmm," Hawking mused. "If we have no Defense, is the trial still fair?"
"It is if I do my job, Your Honour," Bonham nodded. "I intend to prove beyond doubt that Williams is guilty. Then again, if we can't take the word of a Steadholder such as Lady Harrington, whose word can we take?"
"By all accounts, she almost killed him herself," Hawking observed.
"The key word, Your Honour, is 'almost'. In truth, she did not kill him, though I do not doubt that every womanly instinct in her was screaming for her to do so." He shivered. "I've dealt with rape cases offworld, in both capacities...and I confess I find prosecution to be a much easier job. Not, I hasten to add, that justice should depend upon its speed of delivery!" he hurriedly expanded. "I merely meant -"
"I know what you meant, Counsellor," Hawking nodded. "Very well. Prove his guilt. Leave no doubt."
Bonham bowed. "By the everlasting grace of the Tester, the Intercessor and the Comforter, Your Honour, I so swear before Almighty God."
Steadholder Harrington was among the witnesses testifying. She did admit to her moment of weakness, but implied that Admiral Matthews had been the one to convince her that sparing Williams was the right, just, legal thing to do.
No mention was made, then, of Lieutenant Tremaine.
She sighed. "But for a few seconds after I saw the terrible state those women were in, Scotty, I...just...didn't...care. It was wrong, it was unbecoming of a Queen's Officer, but it was what I felt."
"And no-one could blame you," Tremaine agreed. "Hell, when I saw Mercedes later, when Doc Montoya was treating her, I wanted to lay into him. Then I remembered my duty as a Queen's Officer."
"Which I damn near forgot," she nodded. She barely smiled. "When I told Mother, her first words, typically, were 'Oh, for shame, Honor! You should have killed him, the filthy rapist bastard! I would have!' But it would've been wrong. Justified emotionally, perhaps, but...wrong." Now she smiled gently. "And you stopped me. I owe my career to you, Scotty. If I haven't said it before - probably I haven't - then...thank you. Thank you for saving me from myself."
He looked somewhat overawed at a captain thanking a lieutenant for something he'd done, but he felt an immense surge of pride. "I won't say it was my pleasure, Captain, but damn me if I wouldn't do it again."
"I should hope so," Honor quipped. Impulsively she hugged him. It was entirely unexpected.
But Tremaine was a man, and she was very much a woman, so he could hardly say he wasn't pleased.
Or, he realised with embarrassment, excited. She smelled good. He couldn't help his natural physiological reaction to her closeness.
God, I hope she doesn't notice!
"Captain -"
As quickly, she released him. "Don't know my own strength, I know," she nodded, but although he had almost felt a rib crack, both knew she was kidding.
Thankfully she hadn't noticed his hard-on.
In the same spirit of humour he teased, "Is there anything in the Articles of War to cover a female captain hugging a male lieutenant?"
"I won't tell if you won't," she chuckled.
Nimitz just bleeked. These two-legs had funny ways, but a Person got used to them in time.
Dances On Clouds had, Laughs Brightly knew, wanted very badly to kill the offender, from what she'd told him. Treecats had a simpler view of the matter, viz. an enemy should be dealt with ASAP. But this was not the two-legs' way. No, he had to have a "trial" first (a difficult concept for a treecat, to entertain even the concept that the 'defendant' might not have done what any treecat would've known he'd done).
And then they could kill him. They had.
Hard to explain to his clan when next he visited them, he knew, but he would find a way. He always did.
THE END