Free My Life: An Ex-Quarterback's Adventures in the Galactic Empire by Colin Alexander Page A

the air lock and call it even.
    They did not let me brood for long. A door slid open in the sidewall and an armed guard came through. With his blaster, he indicated that I should go out through the door. I did, although with considerable jitters, and found myself in a conference room, for which the other was an anteroom. Most of the room was taken up by a doughnut-shaped table that was split into four equal quadrants. Carvalho, Gerangi and two other officers sat at one quadrant. The guard placed me at the section opposite them and then stood behind me.
    Gerangi spoke first, addressing Carvalho. “I have requested a Captain’s Court for the examination of crew-member Danny a Troy. I charge that, on a ship operating under Fleet discipline, he has violated the Fleet regulations regarding fighting with another member of the crew and has further violated the regulations by causing the death of a member of the crew.” He touched the table in front of him and the wall behind him converted to a screen displaying the relevant regulations.
    I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. We were on a pirate vessel, yet they were going to try me for a violation of Fleet regulations!
    Carvalho took his time before replying. He was a big beefy Srihani with a jet-black goatee that he fingered while he thought. I’d never spoken with him since joining the ship, in fact, I had rarely seen him, but it was hard to believe that this was a novel experience for him. Still, I could think of no reason for him to be putting on a show. When he finally spoke, it hardly seemed worth the wait.
    “Do you have evidence to support these charges?” he asked Gerangi.
    “I have no personal knowledge of the events,” Gerangi replied. “However, several members of the crew were witnesses, although they had no opportunity to intervene.”
    Liar, I thought. His comment about the rest of the crew being unable to do anything really brought my blood to a boil. I almost jumped up to protest. Almost, but not quite. On some level in my mind, the regulations displayed on the far wall registered and I saw what they were doing. If Gerangi had seen the fight, he would have been required to act to stop it, or be equally guilty. The other crew members, not being officers, were off the hook as witnesses if the captain accepted that they were unable to stop it. Gerangi was inventing a fiction to clear himself and the rest of the crew. Any thought of protest died stillborn. I slumped back in the chair to await the inevitable.
    What happened next, however, was just as amazing. Gerangi brought one of the crew in, sat him down at an empty quadrant, and asked him to describe what he had seen. Listening to him, I wondered if I had been hallucinating. My memory and his coincided up to the fall of the stew. According to him, Kolgorinn had then sworn he would kill me and drew the dushuku to carry out the threat. I had managed to throw him, causing him to land on the knife. I waited for Gerangi to laugh, but he didn’t. With complete seriousness, he thanked the crew member and brought in another one. The second repeated an identical story. Two more of the crew performed in the same way before Carvalho called a halt.
    “I think it is quite clear what happened,” he said. I was glad he was so clear. I was starting to feel confused. “I find that, in fact, it was Kolgorinn a Travanna who caused the fight and attacked with intent to kill. As he is already dead, no further action is necessary. Let the record show that this conclusion is consistent with, and reached according to, Fleet regulations governing conduct of the crew.”
    I felt like I was gasping for air, but whether from happiness at the conclusion or in bewilderment at the charade, I don’t know. Why would a pirate ship pretend to operate under Fleet regulations? The reality, of course, was that discipline wasn’t maintained on pirate ships, so here the officers had rigged the official account so that the outcome fit