Academy Snippet 2

   Insanity is about to strike, on top of my usual holiday stuff I've been tasked with throwing two Thanksgivings this month. I was asked a few days ago to throw an early one Saturday for family coming into town. I'm going to be busy. lol 

Not to mention pooped when it is all said and done. lol

 Right into the first story:

A Proper Naval Officer’s Education

 

Annapolis,Bek

 

There were so many prospective naval recruits eachyear that there were different academies on Bek and off. The Citadel,Annapolis, the Britannia Naval College, and four others were the premier ones.Getting into one of them took some hard work and commitment… not to mentionsome proper connections.

A few people each year went the community college oruniversity ROTC route and managed to get in. Those people would never getbeyond a reservist or REMF position within the fleet. At best they would beshoved off to shuffle papers or man a desk in a recruiting office.

Shooters, also known as the gun club were wherethe real action and path for promotion was. Get in there and Gregory knew he’dbe made.

Annapolis was the one academy that all shootersstrove for. Once you got in there and graduated you were introduced to theclub. Your career would be covered by others who had graduated from your almamater. He had set himself on the course for Annapolis early.

His family came from a long line of navy officersreaching back to the inception of the Bekian branch of the Federation navy. Hewas ninety percent human, only a small percentage of his genes were chimera. Helearned to appreciate those modifications as he grew older.

Minor screw ups could be swept under the rug. Youscratch my back; I’ll scratch yours when you call in the favor later. It was nowonder that half of the naval families sent their kids there. They looked outfor each other and helped or hindered each other’s advancement later.

The strategic thinking taught in the academyclassrooms and simulators were not only for ships. A large part of what seepedinto them over time was the political strategy. An officer needed to thinkabout the bigger picture and the long term.

He thought he was fully prepared for the academy.He had gone to military boarding school growing up. He had been trained to militarystandards of life and culture since he could walk. He ate, slept, and breathedthe navy and had never thought of any other sort of a career.

At least he was doing something with his life. Hislittle sister Britney wanted to be a cosplayer and make costumes, or become apop singer, or both. She had flunked out of every military school that theirparents had sent her into one way or another. They’d finally given up and senther to an all girl’s boarding school. She’d settled down but for a time there shehad started to turn into a serious liability and public embarrassment to thefamily.

Perhaps intentionally? A rebellious streak to gether own way that won in the end? He hadn’t known she could be so devious.Perhaps she had some strategic skills after all.

He reported for duty with the crush of othercadets. All but 3 had gone to some formal boarding school; they were allsquared away from the beginning. The other 3 were close but he knew that theupper classman and instructors would be on them like rabid dogs.

He had been fortunate enough to have taken a tourof the campus during the summer, and of course he had been there for hiscousin’s graduation. That meant he’d gotten a lot of his tourist mentality outof him and didn’t look around. He hoped he kept a professional mask as hewalked past the statue of the rearing goat, the mascot of the academy.

The building oozed old. It was made out of stone,or at least appeared a such. The entrances were grand, rising up over 5 meters.The ornate walls were alabaster white. The floors had geometric tiles on them.The staircase was grand. He took it one step at a time since he had his bagwith him.

At the top was the plaque with the impressivewords, ‘Don’t Give Up The Ship’.

Inscribed on the brass plaque were the immortalwords dedicating it to the alumni who had given their lives to defending theideals of the Federation. The wording was rather careful since as far as hisknowledge base held there had been no Bekian killed in action. In fact therehad been no combat in Bek or in the pocket of space they resided in.

The plaque was bracketed by the flag of theFederation on the left and the flag of Bek on the right. There were lit panelswith the list of names of people who had died in accidents and other incidentsover the seven centuries since the academy had been founded.

He saw a cadet linger to look but studiouslyavoided the plaque. He’d seen it before. Instead he turned smartly to the rightand headed down a corridor to another. He had the map seared into his memory.

As soon as he found his dorm he quietly got hisgear squared away. One bed and press had already been taken. He ignored themand focused on unpacking quickly and professionally. Three other cadets joinedhim after a moment; the first had been in the head.

They exchanged names softly but each was busy.They smiled tentatively, obviously nervous and excited, but they knew what wascoming.

Gregory just finished getting his uniforms andclothes stored to regulation and his duffle stowed as well when the door openedbehind him. He turned smartly and came to attention. His sharp move made theothers look up and then brace to attention as well.

A cold Elven upperclassman came in and checkedthem over. He sized them up and then leveled a look on Greg. “Pacifier?” hedemanded.

“Sir?” Greg asked, confused.

“Do you have a hearing issue Plebe? I asked if youare a pacifier. You know, a boarding school wanna be,” the high elf saidcontemptuously. He was tall and gangly, the typical blue skin with long limbsof his subspecies. The long braided hair and long ears and his cat eyes madehim intimidating as he towered over the plebes.

“I… Sir, this cadet did attend boarding school yessir,” he said as he remembered what he’d been rehearsed to say.

The elf glowered at him and then turned to look ateach of the others. All three confirmed they too had attended naval boardingschool.

“Very well. You are pacifiers. Don’t think we’llgo any easier on you. If your shit is squared away then fall out.”

They immediately fell out to the corridor and cameto attention again. Greg heard other upperclassman bawling out some of theother cadets. He studiously kept his eyes front and center and 6 centimetersabove the brow line above the doors.

“I am midshipman Trip Shenandoah. You will notscrew up. You will abide by the regulations or you will besorry,” the elf growled. He strode up and down and then back.

“I expect you to frack up. I might even encourageyou to lower your guard to frack up. Just so we’re on the same page, I’missuing you each a demerit as a way of greeting,” he said.

One of the plebes opened his mouth and the elf wason him in an instant. He went nose to nose to him. “Yes? Something to sayplebe?” he demanded in a cold voice.

“Nothing sir!” the plebe replied.

As starts went this was not a good one,” Gregthought.

“Oh, so you think you are better than me? Wellplebe, that’s now two demerits for each of you. Anyone else want to foul my airwith your useless excuses?” he demanded as he surveyed the others.

“No sir!”

“Oh good. You can work the demerits off now. Onelap around the campus. Double time it. Move out!” he barked, voice droppinginto a bass bellow.

They didn’t have time to change into their PTuniforms. They had to rush out at a trot.

Yup, as far as starts went, this one was peachy,Greg thought in annoyance.

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