CadeFosterWitnessFedvsRajel2397

USS Constitution-B
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((Court Room - Starbase 104))

It took some time, but finally Cade Foster received the call. He straightened his well pressed uniform, made sure his hair was tidy and was ready in the court room. He spent just enough time inside to get a comfortable feel for the place, but not enough time inside to be mad about it. There was a careful balance there, especially important for a person with a low filter like Cade Foster. He knew his limits and tried to work within them.

Maddox: I would like to call my next witness, Commander Cade Foster, to the stand.

Aria was a tad nervous about calling Cade up. He had quite the history, stuffed full of his own court martials and reprimands. However, her also had a reputation of being blunt and straightforward.

Foster: Yes, Commander

Cade offered the Betazoid an even, confident nod and walked slowly forward to the stand. He knew the procedure. The security scan, the swearing in. He was perfectly calm throughout the whole thing. Almost bored. Some things never changed and the basic function of trials still held protocols that were boring no matter which way one sliced them.

Maddox: Thank you for being here today, Dr. Foster. Can you tell me a bit about your time in Xatrac City before, during and after the attack?

Foster: Yes.  ::he have one short nod, paused to let everyone take a breath and get ready and then started to give a careful account.:: We arrived at Xatrac city via shuttle. The city is somewhat isolated due to the dangerous gas bubbles in the plantary atmosphere. Xatrac city is an amalgam of various building that have been continuously built upon and added on to. We started with a tour of the area from a local diver named Dav Jekko, called Skyhook. We were working out way to the administrative offices to meet with the leadership of Xatrac in an official manner when a massive creature native to the gas giant’s atmosphere that the locals called a Razaar attacked the city. It was the size of a Quintenary class freighter and the length of an Odyssey class ship, like a giant worm with teeth and it used those teeth to take a big bite out of the diving area and shake the city. As I said the city is built in stages with a series of connected sections, so this broke some of the natural segments free and caused a massive cascade failure in their engineering. The Razaar took a few more bites, ate a bunch of ships and divers and then sank back into the gas giant. Xatrac city does not have standard shields nor do they have weapons system defenses so the population was panicked and terrified by the attack.

Again he paused to let that sink in. They were defenseless – no matter how foolish he personally thought that was, at least they didn’t make matters worse by aggravating the creature with weapons.

Foster: After the Razaar retreated we went into action to help set up triage stations and get the local medical teams and engineers involved. The damage was widespread and because the city was largely defenseless they suffered widespread power failures and structural damage which caused secondary casualties and injuries. We provided medical relief and engineering back up to prevent large sections of city from crumbling directly into the planet’s atmosphere.

That was it. The logs would back him up. He set the stage as factually as he possibly could.

Aria stood back as the doctor painted quite a picture of the horror the crew had just gone through. She looked back to Ravenna, knowing that she had been badly injured and she was squirming a bit. THe man next to her, a betazoid as well, seemed to be attempting to keep her calm. Aria was sure the recounts of the attack was unsetteling to all of the crew. Aria turned back to Dr. Foster.

Maddox: And according to the records, you were a part of the relief efforts; rendering aid to your crewmates and Zeltins alike?

Foster: Yes, I was a primary responding medic on the scene

Maddox: Can you describe the injuries you witnessed to us?

Aria knew he couldn’t give specifics. She could have called Ravenna up to discuss her own injuries, but she didn’t need to belabor the point. It wasn’t nearly as important or pointient. Dr. Foster saw more of the actual attack.

Foster: I can.  ::He gave a grave nod, putting his hands in front of him on the desk in a motion that seemed to tell everyone to ‘settle in’:: The bulk of the injuries were concentrated in the Zeltin population, although the Constitution officers were also affected. Most injuries were from blunt force trauma ranging from mild – contusions and lacerations – to severe, including multiple cases of concussion, bone fractures and internal hemorrhaging. We were unable to assist most victims directly attacked by the Razaar because they were either dead upon arrival or had been taken into the atmosphere of the gas giant with the creature. It swallowed over a dozen miners and their ships whole. There was a lesser, but significant number of penetrating trauma injuries from the structural collapse, including puncture wounds, severe cable cuts and complete amputation of limbs from the structural collapse. In the area immediately around our team there was a minimum of one hundred moderate to severe cases and double that in mild to moderate injuries.

His tone was even, factual, professional. He didn’t always have to be a jerk. He had five decades of medical training and experience under his belt and he could bring it all to the forefront when needed.

Maddox: Can you tell us about how Captain Rajel reacted to the ordeal?

Foster: Captain Rajel reacted as her training dictated. She ordered our teams to connect with the Zeltin medical teams to set up prescribed medical triage stations where injured were sorted into groups and funnels to the medical destination that could best treat their injuries. She called in key members of her own staff to assist with these efforts as well as calling in an engineering team to ensure that transportation of the injured would remain stable and safe to use in the Xatrac atmosphere as well as engineers to help mitigated the structural collapse to prevent further injuries.

Maddox: And lastly, do you feel that the efforts rendered by Captain Rajel and the Constitution’s crew were adequate or over the top? After all, you are not only a doctor, but a mission specialist.

This was the question that mattered the most. Did she go overboard? Aria would say no, but she wasn’t there.

He looked calmly at Aria Maddox and then turned towards the court, looking evenly and clearly at Admiral Aubrey, Commander Skepus, and the rest of the assembled in turn.

Foster: Captain Rajel’s efforts to provide relief in an emergency situation were well considered, efficient and instrumental in saving lives. She remained in command to see the set up of key medical and engineering triage areas; and this support prevented large sections of Xatrac city from collapsing into the atmosphere saving countless Zeltin lives. The medical triage assisted the severely overwhelmed Zeltin medical system and ensured that the majority of injured could get proper medical treatment and that needless death was prevented.

Maddox: Thank you, Commander Foster. I have no further questions.

Cade Foster gave a single nod to Aria and then turned his pale blue eyes onto Skepus. There was no pleasure in his expression, nor was there pain. He had to fear of anything the prosecutor might use to rattle him. When this was your fourth court martial, including one where you were accused and, where your whole senior staff was accused and one where a fellow crewmate was accused he had no anxiety left to give for such proceedings. He could generally read the room and understand where each case fell on the level of targdung for court martials. And this one certainly pushed the needle towards the smelly side.

This "Cade Foster" was hard to predict. His personnel files painted the picture of a complicated man. Were he an actor, he would be commended for his “range.” For once, Skepus was grateful to be the second to question a witness. Going first had a variety of benefits: rattle them, spin them around, put a little fear in them, and get their guard down. Get everything he could want out of them, then pass them off to the defense in a state is disarray. It was not a pleasant thing to do, but finding the truth required many tactics.

However; in this moment he had a well-composed and seasoned officer, known for being intelligent and unpredictable in equal quantities. Skepus regarded him, showing a flurry of micro-emotions on his face. Most social and sentient species with faces had an uncanny ability to detect emotions on faces despite no apparent movement fo the face. A sort of slippery area between perception and cognition.

Foster showed little other than hints of mild annoyance and echoes of tension.

Skepus: Commander Foster, you are a mission specialist and a surgeon. Is that correct?

Foster: Yes, for the mission I served as primary surgeon under Chief Medical officer Edward Spears. I have since accepted a transfer to the role of Mission Specialist.

Skepus: Congratulations, I presume, are in order. During the mission in question, can you clarify where both medical officers resided following the attack?

Skepus… twitched. Cade’s eyes gravitated to it. Was that… emotion?

The old man was sharp. One didn’t live through four decades of Starfleet service on the front lines without being perceptive; and Cade had worked with enough Vulcans to have some practice reading them. Some were calm. Some were stony. Some were comfortable.

And some, like Skepus, were twitchy.

Then again he had been keen enough to read Skepus’ file. Cade was older than Skepus. That was even more meaningful when one considered Skepus was a Vulcan. So Cade expected some childish behavior from the arrogant prosecutor.

Foster: Lt Commander Spears remained on the Constitution, spearheading relief efforts from the Constitution sickbay and performing major triage and recovery on wounded Starfleet crew members. I was on the ground for the relief effort.

Skepus: ::graciously:: Excellent, thank you.

The man gave him nothing to work with, nothing vague or misspoken. Perhaps he could warm him up?

Arrogant and yet self-assured. Cade would give Skepus one thing – he was good at his job. He had clearly rattled poor Horne and he had an emotional range that many Vulcans would find difficult to master, expertly walking a tightrope between manipulative and logical.

If Skepus applied that talent towards something like writing entertainment such as devious holoprograms he might make a million bars of latinum. But clearly that didn’t drive the man and he chose to be the pointy eared snotwaffle that prosecuted people.

His loss.

Skepus: Your record indicates a long and remarkable history as a medical officer and surgeon. Or at least, the file indicates that you are accomplished. I know so little about medicine that I’m not sure I could tell one way or the other. What, would you say, is your greatest achievement as a doctor?

Staying alive.

No, truly that was an accomplishment. He dug himself out of injury, depression, alcoholism and burning bridges to apologize, repair, strength himself and build bonds with friends and family. That was his greatest achievement, his greatest strength.

But that wasn’t what they wanted on the stand. Cade shuffled through his mental rolodex of accomplishments.

Foster: The definitive proof, published in seventeen medical journals that Brekkian Biolanthin has a clear adverse effect on humanoids with copper-based blood verses Tholian Biolanthin which is not only safe to prescribe, but instrumental in the treatment of Bendii Syndrome as well as mapping out the reasons for the differences in cultivation of the base materials so Tholian Biolanthin could be recreated within Federation territory.

And yes, he’d name all seventeen journals if pressed, as well as his co-author, Zabrielle Liden. Liden was a famed Trill pharmaceuticals specialist, and one of his old flames. Even after they broke up the two remained amicable. Once, as a joke he set his best friend up with Dr. Liden on a blind date, expecting the two to be worlds apart. And awkward night with entertaining stories on both sides.

That didn’t quite work out as expected since the two were now married for over twenty years. On the bright side it made visiting two of his best friends dead simple, see one, find the other.

Skepus: And as a doctor, you indicated that you felt like the Fleet Captain made the right choice to render aid. ::to the judge:: To be clear, so does Starfleet. Rendering aid following a tragedy we helped create is crucial. ::To Foster:: But as a doctor, you have a special calling to heal, do you not? A creed of some sort?

Surely Foster was aware that something was afoot by now, but he was cornered. Skepus curled the outer edge of his lips ever so little as he waited for Foster to respond.

Foster: You want me to say Hippocratic Oath of course.  ::He said perfectly amicably.:: That’s the first thing outsiders think of.

And Cade was betting he knew more about that oath the Skepus.

Skepus: Truly! I know that little about medicine. ::his eyes narrowed:: And, remember you’re under oath.

Cade held up a finger, and again spoke gently, politely, professionally.

Foster: Well let me correct your first statement before we go farther. Starfleet did not help create this tragedy. We were there on a diplomatic mission to establish contact when a creature attacked. Evidence is inconclusive on whether the mining operation aggravated it or not, but the population clearly knew of this thing and were scared of it well before the actual attack. The Constitution was well out of range. Anything else is circumstantial evidence at best.

Skepus: ::cooly:: I appreciate your expert *medical* opinion on this court case, Commander. :: setting that aside:: But let’s stay on topic. The oath? I think the part I know about is something to the effect of “do no harm."

Foster: Correction again, Commander.  ::he said, almost apologetically.:: First do no harm, Primum non nocere, is not within the Hippocratic oath. The Hippocratic oath in its modern form is  ::he cleared his throat:: I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant: ::he paused fractionally:: I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow. I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism. I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science--

It was clear that Cade could, and would perfectly and precisely recount the whole thing, but was cut off. Certainly they could bring the oath up on the monitors.

Still Cade look satisfied, watching Skepus blandly, maybe even with a hint of amusement in those pale blue eyes.

oO Now we’re getting to it. Oo

Skepus: ::politely interrupting:: Very well Commander. Goodness, it’s a long oath! And Fleet Captain Rajel knows it too, does she not? It’s my understanding she served as a medical officer for some time.

Cade Foster leaned fractionally back in his chair, after being cut off from eloquently reciting the entire Hippocratic Oath, looking ever so slightly as if he was enjoying himself.

Not that he was enjoying the trial. Things like trumped up accusations, threats to friends and harassment of good people never sat well with Cade.

But verbal sparring? Oh he lived for this.

Foster: Jalana went to Xatrac City in her capacity as head diplomat onboard the USS Constitution. She also, happens, to be a licensed medical officer from her former service in the fleet.

“Just so happens,” as if she woke up one day with a medical degree under her pillow. How quaint.

Skepus flinched fractionally at that one, picking up on Cade’s rather cavalier choice of words. Cade didn’t smile, but his pale eyes sparkled just a little.

Skepus: ::pacing slowly, facing away from Foster:: Delightful. Now, as a practitioner of medicine, :: turning to face him:: have you ever observed yourself or others applying the ideals and oaths of being a medical practitioner *above* those of Starfleet? A "higher calling," if you will?

Foster: Well that’s a mighty grey area you speak of, Commander.  ::he said amicably:: Can you clarify, are you asking specifically about myself, Fleet Captain Rajel or in general?

He took a step back, letting Skepus lead for a few moments. He had an idea where this was going, but wanted the Vulcan to show a bit more of his hand moving forward.

Skepus: I’m not asking about the Fleet Captain, I’m asking about your experiences in medicine at large. Have you ever witnessed such an event?

Foster: Have I witnessed someone having a strict moral code and living by it? It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes the best of us have a steadfast moral compass you can rely upon.

He could talk to Skepus for hours on the natures of people, along with their fragile egos, failures, hopes, dreams, compassion – all rolled into one. Most people were just people, struggling to make it through each day and find a bit of light in a big cold dark galaxy. Some people rose above and lived by a higher standard. Some fell below and committed atrocities. But most were just decent people trying to do their very best.

Did he think Jalana Rajel was one of the best. Yes, he did. But he couldn’t just come out and state that on the stand. Now that he knew what direction the conversation was going in he needed a more careful, round-about way of exploring – and hopefully making – a point.

Skepus: I see. And now I’m curious: which is more important to you as an expert medical practitioner - the life of a patient or Starfleet regulations?

Foster: Honestly? You’re talking about two very different issues.

Skepus: :: looking him in the eye :: Why?

oO Two can play at this game, Mister Foster. Oo

Cade fixed him directly back in the eye speaking carefully and clearly.

Foster: Because a doctor follows the Hippocratic Oath as a matter of personal interaction with each individual patient. But what you’re talking about is not treatment. It is triage.

Foster was off target. Let him keep going. Egg him on, lull him into a false sense of security.

Skepus: How so?

Foster: In treatment the Hippocratic Oath comes into play as a pact between the doctor and each individual patient to ensure that the doctor does not play God and gives each patient the best care possible on a case by case basis. However triage is a higher level leadership decision in a crisis situation that weighs the resources available versus the task at hand and tries to organize resources to the issues that can be fixed in the most efficient manner. The goal of triage is to get the best possible outcome out of a crisis.

The Vulcan prosecutor has chosen the medical analogy and now Cade was going to run with it.

Skepus: So, a medical practitioner is skilled in making leadership decisions, too?

Foster: Not true.  ::he said gently:: There are many high level, high ranking specialty medical officers who will never hold the role of a Medical Department head because they either cannot or do not want to be in the position to make triage decisions. Triage is a leadership role, which looks at the whole picture rather than the individual patient.

Skepus: I see. So with effective triage, care is maximized for all patients?

For a moment Cade straightened himself and sobered his expression. He closed his eyes for a second, bringing up forty years worth of memories in his mind, hundreds of crises, thousands of bodies tagged in the morgue, more death certificates that he ever cared to sign, the people who died in his arms.

And when he opened his eyes he let every inch of that thousand-yard stare, of the battle-weary medic who had seen it all, drill into Commander Skepus.

Skepus responded by not responding.

Foster: ::His tone turned slightly dark, even, smooth, heavy.:: There are always casualties in triage Commander Skepus.  ::he paused for a moment and let that sink in.:: That is the very nature of triage, and what makes it a leadership class above standard medical work.

Skepus: Please continue.

Foster: If you are balancing a thousand lives which are precariously perched upon the tottering wreckage of a battered city, ready to fall into the oblivion of a gas giant against a minor Starfleet regulation, in a triage situation?  ::He smiled, humorlessly.:: You tell me which is more efficient towards the best possible outcome of a crisis.

Skepus: I see. So, triage requires the loss of life to save life? How curious.

Once again his gaze was sober, the years of experience bleeding through as his voice was even, honest.

In Cade Foster’s mind what Jalana had done on Xatrac was one of the highest levels of medical – and Starfleet – leadership. She had made the life and death calls that took a whole situation into consideration and made the calls for the best possible outcome for all involved. Not just for an individual and certainly not selfishly for her own profit.

Foster: You’re wrong, Mr. Skepus. I’d call that a bargain.

Skepus shrank back slightly, as if moved.

Skepus: Perhaps so. ::gently chiding:: But, Commander–you didn’t actually answer my question.

Foster: I did, but you didn’t like my answer.  ::he stated back matter of factly.:: But these are your questions, please clarify for me what you would like to hear?

His tone had no show of emotion other than calm amusement at this. He could play this out for hours, but that would be tiresome for everyone. Skepus was a man who liked to argue for arguments sake, and clearly a man who already had a right answer in mind, no matter how much that answer was divorced from reality. Like a toddler arguing with their parent that there was a ravening slime monster under their bed, nothing the parent could say would change the toddler’s mind.

Which made him wonder what sort of holy terror Skepus was as a child. Now that was a holovid he would like to see.

Skepus: :: even-keeled :: I asked you: which is more important to you as an expert medical practitioner - the life of a patient or Starfleet regulations? While I value your insight into the practices of triage, that’s not what I asked.

Foster: Alright, then what do you ask?  ::he replied back as sweet as honey pie.::

It was a delight to see Foster try to wriggle out of it. His initial concise,

Skepus: Then let me rephrase it into something more concrete: have you ever felt yourself, or have you observed in others, tension between being a doctor and being a Starfleet officer? Times when the oaths seem incompatible? I’m asking you as an expert in the medical profession.

Foster: Yes, of course. The world out there is not in black and white, but in shades of grey. Tension is a reality in all areas of Starfleet duty.

Except for Skepus who apparently had never felt tension in anything other than how much of a wedgie his regulation underwear was giving him.

Cade knew what Skepus was getting at. And now he was breaking his faulty line of logic down into bite sized pieces hoping that if he could get the correct answer for each little miniscule portion of the puzzle that all things would add up to his narrow minded conclusion.

Skepus: As a medical practitioner yourself, and as someone who is familiar with the thinking of other medical practitioners; in those times of tension between medicine and Starfleet, have you or other practitioners you’re familiar with, ever felt limited by Starfleet regulations regarding your ability to help a patient or patients?

Foster: Depends on the situation. Yes, it could happen.

He’d throw Skepus a bone., and the Vulcan jumped for it like a starving rabid dog.

Time to move in for the kill. This Foster was elusive and clever. Well spoken, and honed, but not impervious.

Skepus: Now, finally, Commander–in your expert opinion, if a medical practitioner could get away with it, do you think they might feel compelled to try to help a patient, even if it was opposed to Starfleet regulation? The oath of medicine is sincere and profound. Surely the call to heal is a powerful one.

Foster: Commander Skepus, I have in my time disobeyed Starfleet regulations to save lives and I do not regret it in the slightest. I have also followed Starfleet regulations while watching someone die and that is something I can live with.

And that was all he was trying to establish–that the Fleet Captain, as healer, might be prone to follow her heart instead of her duty. He had now established another layer to the motive for the inappropriate aid she had rendered. Not a checkmate, but a clear-cut motive provided by an expert witness.

Skepus: Your service is admirable, Commander. Perhaps, though, you might benefit from following regulation. :: He turned away from Foster and approached the bench, but spoke over his shoulder. :: Unsolicited, but valuable advice.

As he opened his mouth to address the judge, the old man spoke again.

At that Cade just blinked. This mad was clearly living in a reality so far distant from actual Starfleet service that for a moment he was flabbergasted. He knew there were sheltered, privileged, self-absorbed individuals who lived in their own little worlds, but he thought – or at least hoped that the mandatory counselling sessions and Starfleet Academy training would beat that out of people, at least in a small part. But down, in Skepus it was doubled down and dug in. he was wholly and fully immersed in his theoretical, sterile, spit shined version of what Starfleet should be.

Foster: ::The words just dripped from his mouth in vaguely admonishing surprise.:: You never have faced a day of true adversity in your entire life, have you?

Skepus: :: turning slowly to face the man :: Your question belies your inference, Commander. Do you have something else of value to add to this case?

Foster: Yes, in medical service Starfleet Regulations can be bent or broken. In triage regulations can be bent or broken. In Command regulations can be bent or broken. And if they had not been we would all be serving slave duties being watched over by a Vorta and a team of Jem’Hadar or all be Borg drones incapable of arguing such trivialities.

He stated this with absolute and utmost confidence. He had been there. He had been behind enemy lines in the Dominion war and could barely count how many regulations they had broken to survive, to win, to save lives. He had been on the other side of the galaxy during Wolf 359, but he had read all the reports and talked to numerous survivors. Rules had been broken for them to even survive. And no one asked. No one cared. The survival of people, of the Federation, of sentient species right to live was more important than an arbitrary rule broken with the best intentions.

Skepus: I recognize that, Commander. :: He shrugged. :: I even said something similar, though with less flourish, earlier in the proceedings. Perhaps you weren’t in the room. The fact of the matter is that the actions of Fleet Captain Rajel trigged the calamity on Xatrac City, and also altered the balance of power not just on that planet but potentially for the quadrant and beyond. Those actions are inexcusable. The Federation must hold its own accountable in these tragic scenarios, not only because it is just, but because it is right.

Foster: Well, that, I suppose is not for either you nor I to decide, but the court.  ::He shrugged, meeting the Vulcan’s gaze straight on, unyielding.::

Skepus locked eyes for a moment, studying the man, before shaking his head. The man had the inkling of a thought, but it was so wrapped up in bravado and misplaced loyalty that his primary cognitive organs had become firmly lodged in the far end of his digestive tract. Such a pity.

Skepus: :: to the judge :: No further questions, Your Honor.

Aubrey: You may step down, Commander Foster. The court thanks you for your candour. Please remain close at hand in case you are recalled as a witness.