Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

Chapter Text

Chapter 4:

Tuesday, July 4th, 2243
Administration Building, Inquiry Hall
Starfleet Engineering Academy
Belfast, Ireland, Earth

It took weeks. Weeks of cadets being paraded in front of the board of inquiry, weeks of testimonies, weeks of Starfleet trying to get over the black eye from the media that, not only had they not known what was happening at sea during the jamming incident, but had nearly lost people due to it-- and that they were court-martialing cadets, often considered the best and brightest that the Federation had to offer.

The buzz eventually faded in light of interesting developments in the cold war between the Klingon Empire and the Federation, but the inquiries didn't.

They couldn't very well court-martial the entire group of nearly sixty cadets that had been involved. When it came down to it, four of them were formally charged -- O'Sullivan, Harrison, Corrigan and Scott.

They had indeed made the history books -- the second time for Scotty -- but instead of for some accomplishment, they were noted down as the first cadets ever court-martialed in Starfleet history.

O'Sullivan ended up being offered a choice between years of community service and a dishonorable discharge, and took the discharge.

The last time Scotty saw him was two days before his own sentencing; O'Sullivan dressed in civilian clothes, Scotty in his black dress uniform, outside of the inquiry hall.

"See ya in the merchant service, maybe," O'Sullivan said, and Scotty was surprised that the dark glower he'd been getting from the other cadet since the mutiny wasn't there anymore.

"Aye, maybe," Scotty replied, not exactly sure what to make of this unexpected amiability.

O'Sullivan looked around the marble hall, his gaze finally settling to rest on the flag of Starfleet. "Never really was meant for this." Then, with that reflection, he half-shrugged with a grin that was rather nonchalant considering the circumstances. "Good luck. Ye put up a good fight, for a tyrant."

Despite his best judgment, that made Scotty chuckle. And despite everything, he meant his reply: "Good luck to you, too."

The very last thing he ever heard about Keith O'Sullivan was that he had blown his own ship to kingdom come, a captain at thirty of a ship he bought himself for cargo carrying, taking a Klingon battle cruiser with him. And when he heard about it, Scotty could only reflect that maybe the mean-as-a-snake Irishman wouldn't have chosen any other way to go out of the game.

In the meantime, Sean Kelley had gotten away without so much as a reprimand and kept his spot as the first in the class; the board considered his leap from the Queen Mary to warn the Lady Grey a moment of moral courage -- and one of their senior cadets actually acting like they felt their senior cadets should -- and made sure that word spread about it.  They even tried to commend him for it.

Sean didn’t have any of it.

He stood in front of the board, pointed to Scotty and said, “If you commend me, you have to commend him, too.  If you give me credit for courage, you have to give it to Mister Scott, as well.  We both braved that storm, we both leapt into that ocean, and we both did it for every right reason.”

Scotty didn’t know if it actually made any difference in deliberations, but he’d been more’n a little touched by it.

Harrison took the worst of it. He not only had been charged with the worst crimes, but he had lied during the proceedings, adding perjury to the list. Thus far, everyone else had been honest about it all -- some out of fear, some for the sake of honor -- and Harrison's lies stood out like a beacon. It finally came out that he had been behind manipulating the whole thing because if Kelley, Scotty and a handful of others between the two teams were sunk, career-wise, he would be the top of the class. So he had taken the tension already there, then further pitted the teams against one another, and apparently just got in so deep he couldn’t see his way back out again.

Led away in restraints, on his way to break rocks on a prison asteroid for five years, Harrison looked defeated and broken-spirited, and no matter what had been done and said in the past, Scotty never quite forgot that look.

That had left Corry and Scotty, finally, who stood together for the last round of it, and stood outside together waiting for the sentencing.

"Is it bad that I'm more afraid of going home and seeing Mom and Dad than I am of what's gonna be said in there?" Cor asked, arms crossed as he looked out of the windows.

"Not really." Scotty wasn't really looking forward to explaining to his own family, either. At all. While there had been some communication between Corry and his family since the inquiries started, none of it had really done much to ease the disappointment, and that would only get worse when this was over.

Scotty hadn't even attempted to call his own, though they had been informed.

The cadets had been honest about it all. Scotty saw no point in trying to find loopholes, or play the system to get out of it. Not only would that be against his own nature, but it would be downright dishonorable to boot. When the charges came up, he made no effort to fight the ones that he knew he was guilty of, and only dug his heels in on the ones that were genuinely unfair or inaccurate. Corry had done the same.

The conviction was already over and it had been, at least, honest.

"Well, the worst case scenario is that we end up like Harrison. The best case scenario-- uh--" Corry laughed, albeit quietly. "Help?"

"We don't get charged by the civilian court for high seas piracy?" Scotty replied, with a half-grin and a shrug. "Damned if I know what's gonna happen, Cor."

"If we're still in Starfleet when this is over, I'm betting we'll be kept ensigns until we're fifty." Corry glanced back at his best friend, looking wryly amused at it all. "Sure I can't talk you into going pirate? The Grey's in dock, not too far away."

"Oh, I've had my fill o' that, I think." After a moment more thinking on it, Scotty added, diplomatically, "For now, anyway."

Corry just nodded, still smiling some, and it fell to silence again. But-- a comfortable silence. Really, even a peaceful one. When the deliberating was over, they would go and face whatever was due them, even if they didn't know what that would be.

Together, into the fire and the storm.

The board consisted of Admiral Pirrie, Captain Pearson and Captain Robert April, who had been overseeing the construction work on the four new Constitution-class starships being built in orbit. Starships that, at this point, Scotty wasn't so sure he would ever get to see with his own eyes. If there was any real sorrow for how things had happened, it was that he might never get to step foot onto the Constitution, the starship he'd been dreaming of now for years.

But before he could give his heart to a starship, he'd had to give his heart to a schooner. And that, he was sure now, was no bad thing.

"Do you have anything further to say in your defense?" Pirrie asked, eying the two cadets standing at attention in front of the table.

"No, sir," Scotty said, knowing he was speaking for the both of them. "We made choices we can live with, or die with."

April raised an eyebrow, his mouth in a straight line, but something like amusement written in his face despite it. "That is a rather decisive lack of remorse, Mister Scott."

"Nothin' can be done to change it now, sir. Only live with it, and we can do that."

"He speaks for me, too, sirs," Corry said.

After a moment, April nodded and Scotty thought that maybe the captain understood that. But April didn't say anything more, simply looked over at Pirrie. "Admiral?"

Pirrie stood up, looking at his students, who looked back steadily.

"Mister Corrigan," he started, walking around in front of the desk, pacing back and forth with his cane, "you had recently requested a transfer to the Medical and Sciences Division in Baltimore. Needless to say, that request is now very much denied."

Scotty didn't need to look over to know that had hit Cor hard. Despite how he had gotten tangled up in the sciences, the other cadet had still found a real passion for it in the end that wasn't obsession-driven, a passion that he'd never really had for engineering. Scotty winced himself internally, too.

"However, Commander Barrett and several other instructors have mentioned that you have a good deal of potential, if not a rather notable lack of discipline." Pirrie stopped in front of Corry, facing up to the cadet. "Therefore, Starfleet is prepared to give you a choice. An exchange program is being considered to allow cross-training between our own Medical and Sciences Division and the Vulcan Science Academy. Commander Barrett has already arranged for you to have a position in the test program, firmly believing that the discipline of Vulcan would do you some good. This board is in agreement. In the meantime, your commission will remain probationary for one further year, revocable at any point should you get yourself into trouble."

Scotty could hear Corry draw in a bit of a sharp breath. The Vulcan Science Academy was perhaps the toughest, and the best, school in the entire quadrant for the living sciences. He could get a degree there, and the finest of training, within two years instead of four to six.

On the other hand, the kind of focus and discipline needed to complete that kind of work was astronomical. Never mind that he would be far from home, family, the ocean and everything he loved.

"Your other option," Pirrie continued, "is to take a dishonorable discharge and be barred from any further involvement with Starfleet for a period of ten standard years."

"Yes, sir," Corry replied, a quaver in his voice. "Do I-- do I have time to make a decision, sir?"

"You have three days. The program starts in two months." Not giving Corry any further attention, the admiral turned his gaze to Scotty.

Scotty didn't let himself relax from where he stood at attention, but he didn't flinch under Pirrie's look, either. There really was nothing that could be done to him that fire and water and fear hadn't already tried to do, and the least he could manage himself in this moment was to face the consequences of his own choices with a steady heart.

"You-- are a sore disappointment." Pirrie sounded it, too, something that did sting a little. "Despite some debatable marks that you've gained in this time-frame where you were in the midst of trying to destroy your promising career, your academics have been top rate. It's been unfathomable to us how a good student could turn reckless and irresponsible in so short a time. Ultimately, we can only conclude that you may have just been too young to graduate and perhaps missed some vital training within that extra year that could have saved this from happening."

Scotty had a damn hard time not growling at that one. The thought that he was at least a year younger than the rest of his class hadn't even crossed his mind, really, and to have that blamed for his decisions felt like a slap across the face. He went to reply, briefly grinding his teeth together.

Pirrie must have noticed that look. He knew Corry did, because Cor broke stance to look over. And even though he only caught it out of the corner of his eye, Scotty knew what the message was.

He kept his mouth shut.

"As such, given your high marks as well as your apparent lack of readiness for active duty, you're going to spend another year under a probationary commission. In that time, you'll be expected to attend courses on good conduct as well as perform community service on Lunar."

Lunar Spaceport. About as far from a shining start to a career that Scotty could see, within Starfleet. The notion of good-conduct classes galled him, too.

"Further, you'll be spending three years on corrective action, with a firm eye being kept on your performance. Your other option is to take the dishonorable discharge, just like Mister Corrigan." Pirrie raised both eyebrows. "Are you able to live with that, Mister Scott?"

For just a split second, Scotty thought about taking the discharge, thought about taking O'Sullivan's route, thought about it all. But it was a fleeting thought. He'd fought too hard to get this far.

Now he would heave to, ride out the gale, and set sail again when it was over.

"Aye, sir." Scotty nodded, smartly. "I can."

It was after all of the paperwork, and after the bell had been rung signaling that the inquiries were all finally over, that Scotty got to talk to Barrett again. He hadn't really been looking forward to seeing the disappointment he was sure to get from the Commander, who had been nothing but fair throughout the entire thing.

And so it had surprised him to no end when that disappointment never appeared.

"Did you find it?" Barrett asked, with that same eerie certainty, the same question he had asked the morning before the Lady Grey had been set ablaze. Standing outside of the hall, as the sun was setting on Belfast, he looked like he already knew the answer to the question that he was asking, too.

Scotty clasped his hands behind his back. "Aye, sir, I believe so." He took a moment there, thought about how to word his response. How to show that he'd found the answer to that question, had even fought for it, when the universe didn't want to give it up to him.

"It's not destiny or fate; it's life, and whether ye sink or swim, fight or don't, live or die, the choice on how ye face it is still yours," he finally said.

Then he nodded, putting the final and perhaps most important part in, "Still mine."

And that was the nature of wind.