Antumbra - A Lost Cause

All Responsible Parties - Chapter Three

Marcus kept his legs crossed, tapping his elevated foot periodically as he waited, occupying himself with a book until he was called in. The Ensign across from him seemed dramatically less composed, and sat with his hands rubbing up and down his knees, creasing and crumpling his dress uniform. The man's sweat darkened his shirt at the neck and armpits as his wide eyes switched from staring off into nothing to darting towards the door next to them. A brief grin flickered across Marcus' face, but it didn't do anything to calm the man across from him. Marcus pitied one so unsure of himself, so fearful for his future, that the mere anticipation was enough to drive him to hysterics. But that was the point of this waiting room. The vaulted ceilings, the narrow floor plan, the plain white walls and seats without so much as a potted plant to add to the decor. There wasn't even proper air circulation from the vents situated at least five meters from the ground, which no doubt contributed to the Ensign's nervous sweating. It gave the feeling of isolation, claustrophobia, as though you were a bug in a jar. If Marcus hadn't been here so many times he might even fall for the ploy, but then he was usually the one on the other side of the door. But this Ensign was bordering on the jitters, and Marcus felt a twinge of sympathy for the hapless soldier.

"If you were to walk in there as you are now," Marcus began, keeping his voice low but even-toned, "they'd find you guilty the moment they laid eyes on you."

"Captain?" the Ensign asked, almost dumbfounded that he was being spoken to so casually by a superior officer.

"If you want to know a little secret about these things, take it from me:" Marcus leaned forward. A pointless gesture that did nothing to make himself more audible, but did make him seem friendlier to the lower ranking man. "There is no one at fault. Not really. They want to make it seem like some sort of trial, but only if you let them. Maintain your composure, and simply be honest. Act like you're innocent and they'll believe you."

"Uh, thank you, Captain," the man seemed unconvinced, but he did stop his nervous movements. "I'll try."

"And try to keep your arms at your side unless saluting," Marcus added. The Ensign cracked a nervous smile at the comment about his appearance, and quickly smoothed out the creases on his pants. It was Marcus' intention to put the man at some sort of ease, and it seemed he succeeded. Not that anything he said was true, of course. If the individuals behind that door wanted someone to burn, they would burn. There was no sense in letting the Ensign know he had no control over his fate, but at least he could meet it with dignity. Marcus gave one last reassuring smile and leaned back in his seat, legs crossed again as he returned to his story, only for the door to open up a moment later. A man in full uniform stepped out.

"Captain Marcus Julian Wilhelm," the officer said in regimented monotone. "This way, please." Marcus stood up, taking a brief moment to straighten his uniform, and stepped into the room, leaving the Ensign alone. The officer who'd beckoned him disappeared somewhere behind him as the door closed, and Marcus stood before three men and a woman, all wearing suits and sat behind two fold-out desks lined end to end.

"You know why you're here, Marcus," The eldest looking man began. "So let's not waste words. Did you find it?"

"My team has yet to fully recover every unaccounted for item," Marcus said plainly. "I even took to the streets myself and questioned several locals. Insofar, I don't believe anything has turned up."

"Going down to the surface," a middle-aged man on the far left said. "I never saw any documentation of that. Quite the grand-stand to walk among the lowly common folk, I'm sure that was a pleasant stroke to your ego."

"I don't believe that comment was necessary, Admiral," the youngest man to the far right said. He was not much older than Marcus himself, and had dark, slicked back hair. "Captain Wilhelm's character is not the subject of this hearing."

"My apologies," Marcus said, bowing his head respectfully. "I simply felt I owed it to my unit to have every available man searching. I would've felt guilty staying behind and doing nothing, considering the part I played in the situation that brought us here."

"I'm sure you know all about guilt," the second man muttered. He was silenced for good by the elderly woman who raised her hand.

"We know everything that happened, Captain," she said. "No one here finds you at fault, these things happen, but you are responsible for the men in your unit and thus responsible for cleaning up their mistakes. If you cannot handle that responsibility we'll simply find someone who can." That was an empty threat, and Marcus knew it, but the Prime Minister had to press the severity of this situation for the record, and Marcus appreciated the fact that if she had to light a fire under him, it meant someone else somewhere was breathing down her neck in turn.

"We've reviewed the footage," she continued,"the Ensign who failed to follow protocol will be summarily questioned and dealt with, but for now you need to put a bow on this," she stacked papers in front of her, putting away Marcus' files and pulling out the ones for the nervous Ensign, "I think you know it's in the GDU's best interest to keep this quiet."

"It's certainly in someone's," the youngest man said, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly.

"Dismissed," the eldest man was curt, already moving his attention to the next subject, and Marcus gave a quick salute before stepping back and turning around. The officer from before opened the door, and Marcus strode out into the waiting room no less confident than before. The Ensign stood up, desperately trying to fix his uniform.

"That was fast, sir," the Ensign said. Marcus smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"They're pushovers," he assured the man. This seemed to relieve the Ensign as he was led into the room, though Marcus didn't give him another thought. Indeed, the Prime Minister was right, someone had had to clean this up. He couldn't afford blemishes on his career at such a crucial time, especially not something so trivial and silly as a missing asset. Yet such a trivial task had proven to be an extensive undertaking. Short of combing the entire sector with a full platoon, he wasn't sure what more he could do to track down the missing item. Marcus had even considered using this accident as an opportunity to expedite things. It would be a risk, but then anything worth doing always was, and if there's one thing Marcus had learned over his time in the military, it's that the most opportune moments sometimes would come at the seemingly least  opportune times.