Fic: Sparkling Stars XIII: Court-Martial (5/7)
Title: Sparkling Stars XIII: Court-Martial (5/7)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Douglas Gray, Harrison Mencken, Edward Garcia, Willy Moss, Christy/Virgil, Quinton McHale, Arlen Spencer, Molly Turner, Morton Dedrick, Thomas Jasco
Fandom: McHale's Navy
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama, Historical, Hurt/Comfort
Rating (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: The Garcia court-martial begins. Will Virgil and his fellow slaves finally get justice?
Chapter Summary: The defense presents its case
Date Of Completion: April 10, 2023
Date Of Posting: April 10, 2023
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1774
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The entire series can be found here.
V
WITNESS FOR THE DEFENSE
"You can't humiliate a slave. How can you humiliate a naked slut who bows and scrapes and kneels, kissing your feet? Not to mention offering himself in the most lewd way."
Reverend Carl Abernathy
Church Of The Holy Shepherd
July 4, 1942
"Call your first witness, Commander Mencken," ordered Gray.
"Yes, sir." Mencken stood. "I call Dr. Edward Garcia."
The slender physician walked gracefully to the stand. He was utterly relaxed as he settled into the chair. Mencken approached the stand.
"Dr. Garcia, you are a respected physician, are you not?"
Garcia smiled. "I certainly hope so, Commander. I have served my country long and faithfully. I can assure you that I have not violated my Hippocratic oath."
"Liar," Willy whispered next to Christy.
"Completely," Christy whispered back. Whether Virgil heard them or not, he was not sure.
"One of the details of the charges involves nipple torture," said Mencken. "Can you explain that?"
"Certainly." Garcia looked out at the audience with a clear gaze. "Slaves build up pressure periodically in their nipples that needs to be released. It is a matter of health for the slaves. I was administering treatment."
The people in the audience who were unaware of this need of slaves were surprised. Others muttered under their breath.
"Damn," Willy said.
"What gall," McHale said through gritted teeth.
"And why is the treatment called 'slave torture'?"
"Well, it doesn't mean actual torture, of course. It's just a term someone slapped on it. It's medical treatment, and that's what I applied."
"I see."
Those who knew the truth fumed. Christy noted that Virgil didn't seem angry, just tense.
Maybe that's part of being broken: no anger.
"What about the slave's leg wounds?"
Garcia shrugged. "Previous injuries. I was merely checking them."
"And the stomach wounds?"
"I was attempting to apply some lotion on his stomach, and to my horror discovered there were hooks embedded in the fabric of the roller."
"So there was no torture involved with this slave?"
"None."
"Your witness, Commander Spencer."
"Thank you, Commander Mencken." Arlen stood and paused for a moment, studying the defendant. Then he came out from behind the table and approached the stand. "Dr. Garcia, you say there was no torture involved in your visit to Gunner's Mate Edwards three weeks ago?"
"That is correct, sir."
Arlen looked contemplative as he crossed his arms. Anne hid her smile. Her superior was in top form.
"If this was all so innocent, why the eye and mouth bindings?"
"Slaves are skittish. I merely wanted to work unencumbered by slave nervousness."
It was a bold statement and everyone knew it. Arlen made a show of incredulity with his eyes but forged ahead.
"So the clamping of nipples with clothespins was to relieve pressure?"
"Yes."
"And the use of a wire brush over Virgil's previous thigh wounds was just checking things out?"
"Yes."
"And the hooks embedded in the roller you dragged across his stomach was all a mistake?"
"Oh, yes "
Christy wanted to jump up and yell, "Liar!" but restrained himself. It would only help Garcia's case, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
"And what about his navel?"
Garcia frowned. "His navel?"
"Yes, navel. You placed a wire brush in his navel and twisted it for maximum pain."
Garcia was surprised for a fleeting second, then he said, "I didn't do that."
"You didn't place a wire brush into Virgil Edwards's navel and twist?"
"No."
"Let me remind you that you are under oath."
"I still didn't do it."
"We have witness testimony saying you did."
"They're lying."
Arlen pretended to look confused. "Lying? The witnesses described all your other methods. Why just make this one up?"
"I told you the reasons behind my actions."
"What were your motivations, Doctor?"
"I explained them."
Mencken rose. "I object. Asked and answered."
"Move on, Commander Spencer."
"Yes, sir." Somehow Arlen kept from gritting his teeth. "So you maintain that all the witnesses describing slave torture, including the slave himself, was mistaken, or the witnesses are lying?"
"That's right." Defiance sparked through Garcia's facade of smoothness.
"Uh huh." Mencken wasn't the only one to ham it up. Back in this audience, McHale particularly appreciated Arlen. He knew how being a leader meant using theatrics at times. "So everyone is mistaken or lying?"
"Yes, that's what I said."
Was that impatience around the edges of Garcia's tone? McHale smirked. Even the bad guys could get rattled on the witness stand.
"That seems pretty farfetched, doesn't it? Everyone's lying except you?"
Garcia glared at Arlen. Commodore Gray frowned at the prosecutor. "Move along, Commander."
"But, Your Honor..."
"Move along."
Arlen's gut clenched. His strategy depended upon him hammering Garcia on his obvious lying.
Okay, an obstacle. So I work around it, like Virgil does every day.
Arlen gave himself a moment to think, distracting everyone by pacing.
"Get on with it, Commander Spencer," said Morton Dedrick, sounding bored and impatient at the same time.
Quite a feat.
"How would you explain the mysterious wounds and illnesses of slave patients shortly after you joined the staff?"
"How would I know?"
"So you never heard of such cases?"
"No. I don't spend my time listening to hospital gossip."
"Even when it pertains to slaves "
"Especially when it pertains to slaves."
"And why is that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why especially not slaves?"
"Stories swirl around them all the time." Garcia shrugged. "Their imaginations run wild."
"Whose imaginations?"
"Slaves."
Arlen decided he didn't like the direction this was going. Suggesting that slaves were prone to exaggeration (or lying) was not a good idea for their case
"You were caught in the act by the crew of the PT-73."
"Who mistook my actions. And, not incidentally, punched me, with my assailant being an enlisted man "
"There is no evidence of that "
"Well, I'm telling you there is! The blond guy."
Arlen did not go into identifying Christy. While there was no photographic or witness evidence (none of the witnesses would rat Christy out), he was not eager for the judges to get all put out by an officer getting punched out by an enlisted man.
"You were caught and now you must answer for your crimes."
"No sermonizing, Commander," said Douglas Gray.
Arlen didn't want to end his cross-examination on a sour note but feared he would dig himself deeper if he continued.
He gave himself a few seconds to make a decision. How to end this cross-examination?
"How do you see yourself, Dr. Garcia?"
"Um, I'm not sure what you mean." Garcia frowned.
"How do you see yourself as a doctor?"
"Oh " Garcia was comfortable again. "I am a highly competent physician with an excellent record of curing my patients."
"I see. And does that include slaves?"
"Of course "
Arlen remembered something. He went back to the prosecution table and riffled through a stack of papers, slipping one out and holding it up. "Exhibit G. I have an affidavit here by Lieutenant Cherry Ames stating that you ordered the staff not to provide pajamas, robes or slippers to slave patients. Not even a hospital johnny."
Garcia sniffed. "I don't recall giving such an order."
"You don't? You said, according to Lieutenant Ames, 'This order is in effect due to shortages.' "
"I have no idea."
"So you never singled out slaves in an order that essentially forced them to remain naked while non-slave patients were clothed?"
"No, I did not."
"But I have a sworn affidavit..."
"I have no idea what Miss Ames is about, but I gave no such order."
"Liar," Molly said under her breath behind Mike Bartowski. He nodded in agreement.
Arlen shrugged and handed the affidavit to Yeoman Tate. "No further questions."
The three judges conferred on the bench. Douglas Gray announced, "Before closing arguments, we need to do some further research. Virgil Edwards, approach the bench."
Perplexed, Virgil obeyed while Christy, the crew and other supporters were just as confused. The judges stepped down from the dais and Gray ordered Virgil to stand in front of them.
"Oh, no," Molly whispered, suddenly sure of what was to come next.
"We need to examine these infamous wounds for ourselves. Lift your shirt."
Virgil blinked, unsure of what he had just heard.
"Are you deaf, slave?" Gray snapped. "Lift your shirt."
Arlen rose to his feet like he had been shot out of a cannon. "I object! An examination like this should be performed in private."
"Nonsense," said Gray. "Slaves are used to public displays of their bodies. Besides, the Court wishes to be clear and non-secretive." He pinched Virgil's nipples. "They feel quite normal to me. Gentleman."
Dedrick not only punched Virgil's nipples, he twisted them. Jasco's touch was cool and impersonal, and Virgil avoided the pity in his eyes
Douglas Gray's dry, chapped fingers skidded across Virgil's stomach next. "You seem quite healed."
"I am progressing, sir," Virgil replied in a hoarse voice.
"Good."
Dedrick and Jasco took their turns, Virgil continuing to hold his shirt up above his nipples. He was startled when Gray poked his finger into his navel.
"Skin's fine," he said, and after he took his finger out, Dedrick put his in and used his nail to scrape Virgil's skin. Virgil forced himself not to tremble. He could only imagine his friends' reactions to all this. His mortification increased at Gray's next order. "Pull down your pants."
Virgil nearly gasped. He could hear similar noises behind him.
"Your Honor..." Arlen tried again.
"Sit down, Commander." Gray stared coldly at Virgil. "Pull down your pants "
Virgil did as ordered, his shirt still rucked up above his chest. He held his pants just above his knees.
The Chief Justice lifted the bottom of his boxer shorts, exposing his thigh wounds. He ran his fingers over the wounds.
"There's barely anything here."
"They've... they've healed, sir."
Gray grunted. The other judges took their turns.
"All right, turn around," said Gray.
Mortified, Virgil as ordered. He did not dare look at the audience.
The judges traced his thigh wounds. There was utter silence in the room. Virgil wondered if they could hear him breathing. When they finally finished, Gray said, "Turn around." Virgil obeyed, suppressing a shudder at the man's steely eyes. "Get yourself put together," he said in a tone that suggested Virgil was at fault for being half-naked.
Virgil fumbled with his pants and started tugging down his shirt.
"Dismissed." Gray said to Virgil and continued, "We'll break for lunch. Closing arguments when we resume."
Virgil was grateful for the break. He went quickly down the aisle, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, and left the courthouse.
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