Chapter Three
Thomas Shaw Dormitory
September 10, 2506
1100 hours GST-Z
Fran and Kat spent the morning after drills rushing to get ready. They had showered, styled their hair, and brushed their teeth. Poor hygiene could cause demerits.
“Cadets need to be sharp and polished in all areas. We are a clean, lean fighting machine,” their drill instructor had repeated often.
“So, I was thinking I’d take the aptitude test for the Command Track today and the Engineering Track tomorrow. You know you’re supposed to have—”
Fran’s voice faded away. Vega 2 drifted into Kat’s mind.
A small house on a small farm. Agricultural drones tended the wheat fields outside. Inside, Kat sat at the dining room table, reviewing a data pad. The Academy had sent a packet for her to study before arrival.
Months ago, the Corps accepted her. Now she was completing the last details. The Corps required her to ship most of her belongings ahead of time. She was to arrive at the spaceport with only the clothes on her back. The Corps would deliver her personal items, those allowed, directly to her dorm.
Her mother sat at the other end of the table, grading essays. Janet Walters taught Earth literature at DeYoung High School in Asimov City, Vega 2’s capital. Both women were preoccupied with their distractions.
They hadn’t heard from Dad since before the Battle for Earth. That was two weeks ago. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone dark. It wouldn’t be the last. Life in Astro Corps wasn’t easy. Janet had known that when she “signed on” to the marriage, as she often joked.
The doorbell chimed.
Kat looked up, but her mother was already halfway to the door. Kat knew her mother was stressed about Dad, although she wouldn’t say it. They both feared the worst, but neither dared speak it aloud, as if words could make it real.
Kat rose slowly from the table and walked into the living room.
Two uniformed officers stood in the entryway. The taller one, a slim blonde woman, spoke first.
“Mrs. Walters, I’m Lieutenant Commander Patterson, and this is Lieutenant Gomez,” she said, gesturing to the short, muscular man beside her. “We served aboard the ASC Orion with your husband. I truly regret to inform you that your husband, Daniel Walters, died in action on March 28.
Janet backed into the sofa and sat down hard. Tears didn't fall from her eyes. She didn’t scream. She simply sat frozen. A mother holding the shape of grief.
Kat sat beside her and placed her arm around her mother’s shoulders.
“How?” Kat croaked.
“Your father was one of the best engineering chiefs in the fleet,” Gomez said, stepping forward. “He was my friend.”
Gomez paused.
“We were trying to reroute power to re-initialize the shield grid. The engine deck took a direct missile hit. The deck burst into flames, and we suffered a hull breach. Your father cleared the deck and saved seventeen crewmen and officers. I am one of those men. He could have gotten out, but he stayed to reroute power and re-initialize the grid as the deck lost atmosphere. He saved all of us. Chief Walters was a hero.”
He held out a pendant and a folded Galactic Alliance flag. Janet remained frozen, her grief too consuming for even the most basic response. Kat took them from his hands.
Patterson added, "They will bury him with honors at the Astro Corps Memorial Grounds in Houston." “Will you be attending?”
“Yes, we will,” Kat answered for her mother.
“He was a fine man and a hell of a chief,” Gomez said quietly. “I’ll miss him.”
Patterson gave him a sharp look. Officers on courier duty weren’t supposed to show personal emotion. As difficult as it was, neutrality was the expected protocol.
“We are sorry for your loss,” Patterson said, handing Kat a datapad with the service details.
Kat walked them out. When she turned back, she saw her mother standing in the hallway, facing a family holograph.
Janet reached out with trembling fingers, kissed her hand, and pressed her fingers gently to the image of her husband. It was the closest she would ever come to touching him again.
“Hey Kat. Come in, Kat.”
Fran’s voice snapped her back. She tapped Kat on the shoulder.
“Huh?” Kat blinked.
“You just faded out. Where’d you go?”
“Oh… sorry. I was thinking about my dad.”
Fran wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She didn't need to say anything. Fran understood. Kat’s father had died a hero, but he had died all the same.
“I’m okay, Fran. He just… he would’ve wanted—”
“Yes. He would have,” Fran whispered. She knew how sensitive Kat was about her dad. He had always dreamed of Kat attending the Academy. An academy he never qualified for, but believed his daughter could.
And now she was here.
“Anyway, what were you saying?” Kat asked.
“I was asking which aptitude tests you’re taking today.”
“Only one that matters,” Kat said. “Command.”
“No backups?”
“Well… tactical, of course. If you aren’t ordering the fight, you might as well bring the fight.”
Kat smiled. Fran relaxed. She always got nervous when Kat went quiet. She didn’t want grief to derail what had already become a phenomenal start to the year.
“So why do they make us take these aptitude tests again?” Fran asked as they grabbed their datapads and headed for the door.
“The Academy uses the first test to place us on education tracks for the semester,” Kat explained. “We’ll take them again at the end of the semester. If your scores don’t improve or drop, they push you into other divisions. It’s a weed-out system. Especially for Command.”
The bright Houston sun greeted them as they stepped onto the Promenade.
The wide walkway cut through the center of campus, leading toward every academic hall. Students in cadet grays moved with purpose in every direction.
“Well, wish me luck,” Fran said. “I’m not as good a tester as you.”
“Good luck. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Kat’s testing center was in the Pankow Command School Building. She crossed the promenade alone, her boots echoing softly on the polished path.
As she reached the steps, her father’s voice whispered in her mind.
Stay standing. Stay ready. That’s enough.
Kat nodded to no one, steadied herself, and walked inside.
The test, her future, awaited.
It had been a long day. The testing had exhausted her, and Kat was tired. She dashed back to her room and quickly freshened up. Fran hadn’t returned yet. She had a habit of running behind.
Kat was just about to sit at her desk and start reading for tomorrow’s classes when a knock at the door interrupted her.
Opening it, she found a cadet courier standing there, a short, stocky young man. He handed her a small card.
“Please give this to Cadet Walters,” he said, then turned and walked away.
Closing the door, she looked at the card. It was an invitation.
Please join us at the Astro Corps Academy Officer’s Mess Dinner where special guest Captain John Harrigan, CO of ASC Galaxy will attend.
Oh wow. Fran, where the hell are you? She thought.
Kat changed into a crisp, clean uniform, shined her boots until they gleamed, and pinned her medal to her chest. Was she invited because she was a commendation recipient? Is this how the Academy honored achievement?
She checked the desk clock. Ten minutes until dinner. No time to leave Fran a message. She bolted out the door, heading straight for the mess hall.
Fran sat at the table she and Kat usually shared during meals. Each table seated twelve cadets, and dinner was split into two shifts. The freshman class ate first because of its size. Sophomores, juniors, and seniors came in for the second shift, although each table had select junior or seniors sitting as table heads.
Fran scanned the room. No sign of Kat. It was unusual for her to be late to anything.
“Hey there, Frannie. What’s going on tonight?” A heavy hand clapped her on the shoulder.
Cadet Jacob Bixby, a tall, medium-built cadet with a mess of dark curly hair, slid into the seat beside her. He followed her around like a lost puppy. Fran knew he had a crush on her, but the feelings weren’t mutual. Still, she tolerated him. He was polite and fun to hang around with.
“Jacob. Just waiting on Kat,” she said, still scanning.
“You mean Miss Punctual is late? I’m going to log that. If I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t believe it,” Jacob said, reaching for a glass of water.
Fran smacked his hand.
“You know we can’t eat or drink until after the Academy Creed, dumbass.”
Fran looked up toward the second-floor Officer’s Mess, a smaller dining area that overlooked the main cadet hall. A podium on a raised stage stood just to the left of it, where a cadet leader would soon lead the nightly creed.
“Attention on deck!”
A tall, slender, brown-haired human female stepped up to the podium. Every cadet in the hall rose to their feet in unison.
“At ease,” she commanded. Cadets moved together with practiced precision.
Then she began:
“Cadets of the Corps, what is your charge?”
Fran joined the thunderous response:
“To serve with honor, lead with courage, and stand for the Galactic Alliance.”
“What is your shield?”
“Discipline, duty, and the strength of unity.”
“What is your vow?”
“To endure hardship, defend the weak, and train without excuse.”
“What do you seek?”
“The stars above and the strength within.”
“You can take your seat now,” the female leading the Creed said. She stepped away from the microphone and walked toward the officer’s dining area.
Fran and Jacob sat down alongside several cadets she recognized but didn’t know well. Their table row was second-to-last to grab food.
As Fran waited, she looked up at the second floor. Officers were entering the Officer’s mess. Someone had drawn aside the curtains on the large observation window overlooking the main dining hall. A line of officers filed in, and a few invited cadets followed them.
I’ll be damned. There she is, Fran thought.
“There’s Kat,” Jacob said, pointing upward.
“She didn’t tell me she was having dinner with the brass. And with him,” Fran added, nodding toward Captain Harrigan. He stood tall in his black dress uniform trimmed in silver. The tunic featured a high collar, and neat rows of commendation medals adorned the right breast. On the left were his name and ship assignment.
He was, in Fran’s words, distractingly handsome for someone twice her age.
Fran felt her stomach flip. Oh, if I could just meet him. But no, that was Kat’s world now. Kat wouldn’t try to bed the man. Fran might.
She smiled at the thought and looked through the window while Kat sat beside Harrigan.
“How does she get so lucky? He is gorgeous,” Fran muttered aloud.
“He’s also old enough to be your father,” Jacob replied flatly, a little edge in his voice.
“Yeah, well… that means he knows what to do, and how to do it efficiently,” Fran quipped with a grin.
The joke landed poorly. Not just with Jacob, but with the upperclassman sitting two seats down. He was a senior, and seniors were the unspoken authority on campus. Even during the freshman dining hour, several of them rotated in as table captains to maintain discipline.
“Stow that kind of talk, Cadet…” the senior snapped, glancing toward her chest to read her name badge. “Corsaci.”
His brown eyes locked onto hers with steely intensity.
“That man is a war hero. I’ll not have any degenerate talk about him at my table. Is that clear, Cadet Corsaci?” he wagged his finger in Fran’s direction.
Fran’s face burned.
“Very clear, sir. Like glass,” she said, voice trembling just slightly.
Fran slouched back into her seat, mortified. Now she’d done it. She was going to get a reputation, not just as someone trying to chase officers, but worse, as an unserious cadet. Either label could be lethal during the washout year.
Kat sat straighter than she ever had in her life.
The Officer’s mess felt like a museum: polished wood, glinting silverware, perfectly aligned plates. Candles burned low down the long table. She sat just two chairs down from Admiral Tolaran, the Commandant himself. But it was the man beside her, Captain Harrigan, whose presence made her spine lock and her stomach tighten.
They had spoken little, just a brief nod when she sat.
The meal had ended. Servers cleared the last dishes in perfect silence.
Admiral Tolaran rose.
Without raising his voice, he lifted his glass and said:
“Honor to those who endure.”
Time froze.
Kat’s brain screamed the correct response. Say it. Say it. Every cadet knew it. Every cadet.
She raised her glass, lips dry, and said:
“I’m honored.”
A beat of silence fell over the table. Not dramatic. Just enough.
She knew immediately.
Her cheeks flushed. She stared straight ahead, mortified.
Then, quietly, Captain Harrigan leaned in just slightly. Not a rebuke. Not a reprimand. Just a soft correction, his voice like a low wind breaking tension:
“So, others may rise.”
He gave her a small nod. Kind. Assuring.
From farther down the table, others echoed the phrase:
“So, others may rise.”
“So, others may rise.” Kat said raising her glass at the Admiral.
The moment passed. Conversations resumed. Tolaran remained unreadable. True, most Dekkorats were unreadable, but Tolaran more so.
But Kat didn’t speak again. Her mind was stuck on that one slip, and the quiet way Harrigan had rescued her from it.
Kat wanted to get back to her dorm room and commiserate about the evening with Fran. She had taken so much of the credibility she had built up and thrown it away with one flubbed line.
She walked back to her dorm. Head lowered, feeling dejected. She hoped not to cross paths with an officer or a cadet officer. She was not in the mood to salute anyone.
“Cadet Walters, may I have a moment?” Harrigan’s baritone voice called after her.
She turned and saluted him. He returned the salute, smiled warmly, and approached.
“Where are you heading?” he asked.
Kat felt lost in his blue-green eyes. Fran had commented on how Harrigan was a looker. She had been right. He might be almost twenty years older, but he was dreamy.
“My dorm, sir,” she said, unable to hide the dejection in her voice.
“May I walk you to the door?”
“Yes, sir.”
They walked. At first, they walked in silence. Kat cast side glances at him, and he seemed not to notice. Then he smiled, and she knew he was fully aware of her wandering eyes.
“You seem a little down since the incident at dinner,” Harrigan said.
“You’re very perceptive, sir,” Kat smiled weakly.
“I’m a star cruiser captain, and apparently one of Earth’s heroes,” he said with a soft chuckle.
“You are, sir. Especially around here. Why would you laugh at that, if I may ask?”
Her quizzical expression amused him. They were crossing the promenade now.
“What is heroic about leading eight people to their deaths, and not being able to stop three cities from being blown off the map?”
“Sir, if you and Galaxy hadn’t been there, our cities would have suffered great destruction. You and your crew stopped it. That’s why we want to celebrate you.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve just never been comfortable with such things. So, what has you down?” he pressed.
“I flubbed the honorific at dinner. The Commandant probably thinks I’m an idiot, and who can blame him?” Kat stopped just short of the bell tower. She kicked a small rock off the path.
“Cadet, you’re going to find you’ll make plenty of mistakes. This is a high-pressure environment, and for good reason. Besides, Admiral Rex Tolaran is a Dekorat. Deep down, I think they all think we’re idiots.”
He smiled again. They began walking once more.
“He won’t be etching my name on his vambrace,” Kat muttered.
“That’s not a simple thing to live down. Dekorats are fiercely loyal, and they don’t accept the answer no to a life debt.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Look, you fragged it tonight, and it was big.” Harrigan too kin the view of the campus then continued. “This place presents everything as a test, but the tests do not carry the same weight. The officers put you on the spot. You got nervous and fragged it. But the important thing is not to frag it again.” He waved a finger at her and offered a warm smile.
His choice of words shocked her.
“So I—”
“So you should do better next time. Don’t get high with the highs or too low with the lows, Cadet. You’ll wash out if you do. Stay steady. Stay calm.” He nodded.
“Sir, this is a washout year. How do I do that?” Kat asked. Her eyes searched his for any secret to surviving the Academy.
“My mother went here for two years. She was a cadet with high marks and honors, and was on track to be one hell of an officer. You know what washed her out?”
“No, sir, what?”
“Me. She got pregnant. Met my father in town, and one thing led to another, as they say.”
“Oh. So…”
“So, my mother used to quote an old professor from the sharpshooting classes. He said, Control what you can control, be aware of your surroundings, and understand the situation.” Harrigan smiled, thinking of his mother. “I heard that so much from her I still hear it in my head. It helps.”
“How?” Kat blurted, a bit too aggressively.
“Admit you can’t control it all. But you know what you can control, so do it. Be aware of your surroundings.” He pointed at several locations around the campus. “Look where you are. This place is a privilege.” He pointed at the buildings around campus.
“It is, sir.” She nodded in agreement.
“Finally, understand the situation. Tonight wasn’t life or death. But they will put you in that spot here. In training sims and in the real world. Handle the small ones with grace, and the big ones get easier. Do you catch my meaning?”
Harrigan wasn’t intimidating. He was searching her, as if looking for a spark of something he recognized in himself. Kat hoped she had it. This man was a legend. Her hero.
“I believe so, sir. Stay calm, even, and learn from the frag-ups.” Kat smiled.
Harrigan smiled back and chuckled. “Exactly. Although don’t use such language in front of the officers here on campus.” They both laughed.
They reached the front of her dormitory building. Quiet hours were beginning, and soon it would be lights out.
She held out her hand. “Thank you for the advice, Captain.”
His firm grip took Kat’s hand and shook it. “Anytime, Cadet. So, you good?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hey buddy, what the fragging hell are you doing in front of the female dorms?” A voice shouted in the distance.
Who else but Fran? Kat thought trying to suppress a smile. Fran was so screwed and didn’t know it. Kat shook her head as Fran dashed up, ready to shout at the man who was clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Harrigan turned to face the hard-charging cadet. He smiled and introduced himself.
“Captain John Harrigan, Cadet?”
Fran stopped in her tracks. She started to stammer and wave her hands nervously. Kat had never seen Fran this unsure of herself. She backed up, but Harrigan seized on it playfully.
“Cadet, I’m waiting.”
“Corsaci, Captain. Fran Corsaci.”
“Who has permission to be in front of a female dorm at this time of night?”
“Any officer of the Academy or the Corps who has reason to be here, sir,” Fran quoted the regulation.
“So, you recognize this as an officer’s uniform?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you spoke to me with that mouth before identifying me, Cadet?” He peered at her just a little harder.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I thought—” Fran backed up.
“You thought wrong, Cadet. If I were you, I’d get to my room, study the regs, and learn how to address a superior officer, especially a war hero being celebrated by this campus.”
He raised his voice just slightly, but Kat could hear the amusement still in it.
“Yes, sir. I will, sir. Permission to do so, Captain Harrigan?” Fran said, nearly in tears.
“At ease, Cadet. I’m just breaking your chops a bit. But you should learn not to charge into things without knowing what you’re charging into. Clear?”
“Like glass, Captain Harrigan.” Fran blew out a relieved breath and a sigh.
Harrigan smiled. He turned to Kat.
“And that is controlling what you can control, Cadet. Good night, ladies. You’re dismissed.”
They both snapped to attention and saluted.
“Yes, sir.”
Harrigan returned the salute and walked away, just in time to hear Fran whisper, “Oh my God. Even when he yells at you, he is so hot.”
Shaking his head, Harrigan smiled as he walked back toward the Promenade.
It has to be the war hero thing, he thought. Or these girls don’t get out much.