Sunday. 08:15 Cafeteria
The cafeteria was a quiet place. Most of the cadets that were present hadn’t picked up any food yet. Coffee was being drunk in massive quantities. They appeared to be nursing hangovers. John took notice of that and then looked at his friends.
“So why are y’all not hungover like everyone else in here?”
“Are you really changing the subject?” Kevin looked annoyed.
“Yeah, you just said you took care of things,” Andern said, “Specifically, how did you handle things.”
“A galvanized pipe and then I tossed a couple of SIS agents over the ledge. Oh and I captured the sniper alive,” John said as he took a bite of hash browns, “I also shot the dude’s ear off because he smarted off to me. So, why the hangovers?”
“He casually killed three people and turned another into a POW and thinks nothing of it,” Thomas smirked, “You call Andern a Martian but aren’t you just projecting?”
“In other words, just some more bullshit that had to be dealt with on a Saturday,” Nathan said before taking a sip of orange juice.
“Y’all were being indirectly targeted,” John shrugged, “Also, fat lot of good the intel we got was. That was an Alliance kill team, the same one that was supposedly stuck in Alliance territory. And the dude, at least what I heard personally, didn't say anything new that we didn't already know.”
Alice nibbled a bit of bacon but then spoke up, “What about the other squad?”
John shrugged. The rest of the table looked up and at John. He shoveled in a mouthful of pancakes then casually took a drink of milk after swallowing.
“What?”
“You seriously aren’t worried?” Jessica asked.
“I’ve got my head on a swivel, without any additional information I can’t do anymore.”
Alice rolled her eyes, “Seems like the rest of us are taking up enough of the concern so he doesn’t. I love you but you are the Martian more often than he is. Andern is just…”
“Barely house trained and lacking in the social skills,” Kristin said grinning.
“So, you just casually threw two people off a fifty-story building?” Brian circled back to John’s original statement.
“Weren't you worried about hitting someone on the ground?” Kristin asked as she spread jam on a piece of toast.
“First guy landed in a green space. The second guy was a sketchier calculation.”
“So, no, no you didn’t,” Kristin said before biting into her toast.
“I mean, I didn’t exactly have a ton of time to check. It was all bing bang boom. If I was too noisy, I could’ve been spotted and shot.”
“All’s well that ends well, right?” Kevin said laughing.
“Is anyone going to tell me why everyone is so fucking hungover?” John asked in a frustrated tone.
“Drunken cadet had drink specials, and the news spread,” Andern said.
“We left when about forty freshmen showed up,” Jessica said as she took a sip of coffee.
“They never shut down, so I’m sure some of them came straight here from the bar,” Nathan said with a smirk on his face.
“Are you seriously heading to PE after this?” Theresa asked.
“Yeah, why?” John shrugged as he pushed his empty tray forward.
“We have until the end of the semester to get it done,” Andern was shaking his head, “That’s why.”
“I don’t want to run outside when it’s winter. Today is ideal running weather, not too hot or too cold,” John said.
“Plus, I want to get it over and done with, this may free us up so we can go home a day or two earlier after finals this year,” Alice added as she stretched her arms over her head.
“Yeah, I’m with those two. It’s one more thing to check off,” Kevin said.
“They aren’t wrong, but we are going shopping for his sister’s birthday present,” Kristin said as she hugged Andern.
“Golden birthday. Mine was when I was two, so I got jack shit.”
The table laughed at Andern. They then got up and dropped their trays off. The group then parted ways. Kristin and Andern went out shopping. Nathan, Thomas, Jessica, and Brian hung out in the lounge. The remaining couples decided to get in their PE final, in September.
19:00 Library
John was walking down the spiral staircase with three data slates. Alice yawned and stretched at her desk as she saw her husband walk toward the desk. He set the slates down and sank into his chair.
“How much longer are you going to be honey?” Alice said impatiently.
“Are we bored?” John said sarcastically, “By the way, why aren’t you with our friends, and enjoying your time?”
Alice looked annoyed, “Yes I am bored. But are you implying that you don’t want to spend time with your lovely wife?”
John shook his head while smiling, “Don’t be that way. You don’t have to hang out with me in some dingy library while our friends are having fun. I’ll survive.”
Alice cocked her and smiled, “I wasn’t really going to ask or even wanted your permission to ditch on you. But now that I have your permission…”
She continued to smile as she stood up and walked around the table. Alice was practically floating as she approached John. She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.
“Don’t be too late. You need to socialize with the rest of us too.”
“Thanks, see ya in a bit,” John said waiving as his eyes never left the data slate he was holding.
John shoved several data slates to the corner of the table to free up space to use the digital keyboard. He began writing his report. The first draft would be finished in just over forty-five minutes, but its grammar needed some serious review.
He gave his work a quick scan and decided to pack up. The data slates were stacked on the right side of the table. Orderlies would be by to pick them up and return them to their storage places in short order. John had finished zipping his back up when someone walked up to him.
“Hi, excuse me. You don’t know me,” the cadet said.
John sighed slightly and answered directly, “That would be correct. What can I do for ya?”
“I was looking through your freshman wargames and wanted to ask you a question about the summer games.”
John grinned as he sat down on the table, “Let’s start with who you are since you have me at a disadvantage.”
“Oops, Cadet Jackson Olson, Freshman class of ’64. I’m gunning for command. My platoon won all of our wargames and I intend to keep on winning.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Good attitude, but one person doesn’t win a wargame, though one person can lose it. Keep that in mind,” John said confidently, “So what’s your question?”
“The summer games, is it true that you can choose more gear than just for the single mission?”
“Well it was three years ago, we proved that everyone could march for five minutes with a certain weight load. Then we picked all the gear we could that would add up to that weight.”
The cadet smiled and said, “Fucking brilliant. How did you get through zero-g games unscathed?”
“It’s a matter that’s still debated, about whether or not it was cheating, but used a suit of power armor.”
The cadet’s eyes opened wide, “How can I get my hands on one of them.”
John chuckled, “You can’t. And if you could, you’d likely be run out of the military or worse be sent to Leavenworth.”
“But how did you come across yours?” Jackson said without missing a beat.
John picked up his bag and slapped the cadet’s shoulder, “I was lucky and had connections. Connections you don’t have and can’t call upon to get a favor. Though for me, I think those doors are closely shutting on me too. I'd do some research on other platoons that won their games for reference there. At least the games where I wasn't wearing it. Good luck in the games.”
John walked by the cadet. Jackson sat down at an open terminal and began studying the wargame records once more. John looked back at the cadet as he got to the front desk and smiled. An important impression was made on him that evening. He now had a reason to track the enterprising cadet’s performance during the years he’d be away from campus.
20:05 Armstrong Way
John was walking on the sidewalk back to the dorms. He was looking forward to spending a couple of hours with his friends before calling it a night. Doing all the prework that he had been doing was getting old. On the plus side, the second half of the semester was going to be incredibly light on the work.
He was two blocks away when a white Mercedes SUV stopped. John sighed since he actually didn’t want to fight or kill anyone that evening. All he wanted to do was relax and unwind.
“John, my good friend,” a familiar voice bellowed from the backseat.
John smirked and turned to see Flavio Ricci step out of the vehicle, “How the hell are you Flavio?”
“Completed a hostile takeover and thwarted off a few corporate espionage attempts.”
“Same old same old eh?” John said sarcastically.
“I hear it’s the same with you. Some assassins show up and then most of them end up deader than dead.”
“So what do you know?”
Flavio gestured over to the bench. He sat down first and pulled a small data slate out of his front coat pocket. The slate was handed to John after he sat down.
“You wounded me a bit when you didn’t bargain for that information last year you know.”
“Yeah, but your price was a bit more than I could stomach. Only business right?”
“Yes, I can respect that position. Which is why I’m giving you this information. Consider it an investment into both your and our combined futures.”
John looked down at the data slate and skimmed through it. A pair of assassins had been hired by someone very powerful in the Mercantilist Union. Their target was none other than John himself. He sighed when he read that sentence. What bothered John was the assassins that were hired. These weren’t military contractors; these were dyed in the wool professional killers.
“I presume you have more information than just this?” John asked bluntly.
“yes but it's just unconfirmed hearsay. What I do know for sure is that the assassin’s benefactor is none other than Dr. Norman.”
“Fuckin’ great,” John said to the ground.
“You know the two he hired too. Alyssa May and Victor Damon.”
John shook his head, “Never ran across Alyssa professionally. I had Victor dead to rights but 'reasons' stayed my hand.”
Flavio chuckled, “That’s not like you to bend the knee to anyone.”
“Still isn’t like me, but shooting him in broad ass daylight with hostile police pointing their guns at me would’ve resulted in both of us dying. I did get a semblance of revenge the second time I ran into him and acquired a couple of keepsakes from him.”
“You are ever the fascinating individual,” Flavio said with a giant smile, “Be careful. These two aren’t like others and Victor especially has gotten far better over time.”
Flavio stood up from the bench and spoke, “I’m not sure if your connections to the intelligence world are as strong as they once were. Your normalization over the past year has made you less valuable to them.”
John sighed and pushed himself up off the bench, “I’m well aware. Things are a little icier than they were.”
“They are damn near frozen son. Be careful, I mean it. These two scare me.”
“Thanks, but I’ll find a way to come through it one way or another,” John said as he shook Flavio’s hand.
Flavio nodded and then walked back into the car. His guards quickly entered the car after him. The Mercedes drove off rapidly. The wheels were at the very edge of their limits as it sped off into the night.
John stood there and stared at the SUV. He shook his head and started to walk to the dorm. The news that he had just received wasn’t good news. In fact, it was downright shitty. But it is what it is. Whenever they would show up he would have to try and fend off their attack and turn the tables. In any case, whether his standing with intelligence was as bad as it was, he’d share this information with them regardless.
2 Weeks Later, Wednesday. 16:25 Commandant’s Office
John wasn’t disappointed at being called out of his last class of the day. Though this was far from a new feeling in classes. He felt uneasy, restless even about being called to the office. He hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing egregious that is. Confidence, oftentimes arrogance, was something that exuded from John. But today, he was sitting in the waiting room looking for an out, an excuse to leave this place and whatever needed to be said.
The secretary crashed such plans when she spoke up, “Cadet Leif, you can go in now.”
John grimaced at that notification, “Thank you, ma’am.”
He walked by the secretary’s desk and paused for the door to slide open in front of him. Inside the commandant of the academy was talking with Admiral Dickinson. John was surprised to see the admiral in person. He was not an opposing figure barely standing above five feet.
John stood three paces behind the two men yet appeared to tower over his future commanding officer. The two men were overly focused on something at the terminal behind the large walnut desk. He couldn’t see exactly what was. John cleared his throat to break the two admiral’s focus.
“Ah speak of the devil,” Admiral Melnyk said as he swung around, “We were just talking about you.”
Admiral Dickinson turned around and smiled, “Good to see you, cadet. We have some very interesting news to share with you. Though the specifics will need to be kept to yourself for now.”
“Am I in trouble sirs?” John asked bluntly.
Dickinson let out a deep belly laugh, “Suppose you’d go there. Recognition in intelligence is frowned upon isn’t it?”
“That’s correct sir. Can’t say that I appreciate the recognition,” John paused and thought of Manchester, “At least this time it isn’t making my skin literally crawl though. I’m not sure if that was who was recognizing me or what I had done at the time.”
Melnyk smiled, “Probably a bit of both. There’s going to be an official announcement made within the hour. The skinny of it is that you and Cadet Vernon will be receiving the Navy Cross. The other captains will receive the Distinguished Service medal. The rest of the cadets the Commendation medal. Obviously for your collective efforts before, during, and after the attack.”
“The announcement will be stating that an awards ceremony will be held this Friday and the entirety of your fleet is being given the awards. Though we are asking you to refrain from telling your friends and fellow cadets,” Admiral Dickinson said as he glanced back at the terminal.
“Understood, do you mind if I ask what it is that the two of you have been so preoccupied with?”
Melnyk looked at Dickinson who nodded in return, “The Navy’s official stance is that it accepts the attack was the result of rogue actors. It does not recommend a declaration of war, but is recommending the civilian government halt trade with the Alliance for a period of not less than a year and to demand reparations for the damage and loss of lives that they dealt.”
John smiled, “Then it appears common sense has won the day.”
Admiral Dickinson had a sour look on his face, “Has it though?”
“Everyone knows the Alliance government was behind the attack. We’re just not openly admitting that we know. But we don’t need or want a war any more than they do,” John took a deep breath, “While at the same time their attack showed us that we’re ill-prepared for a war ourselves.”
Melnyk smiled, “I speak for most of the commanders of the fleets, but no one was happy with the performance shown.”
“Hundreds of transfers, new captaincies, and so on have already been ordered. We’re not ignoring the lesson we learned.”
John looked at Admiral Dickinson, “Pardon my bluntness sir, but this type of progressive action is almost unheard of in the core fleets. How much political capital was spent to make this work?”
Admiral Dickinson grinned, “More than I’d care to admit. But while many established families are pissed beyond measure, their annoyance means nothing if their sons and daughters are incapable of commanding a vessel effectively.”
“It’s not perfect is it sir?” John asked.
“No, we can’t fix everything at once. But those that were expecting an easy rise to captaincy are no longer being fast-tracked. Every captain is being evaluated. Those that show promise but aren’t at the levels we need will be moved. Many are either being given an early retirement option or are being relegated to third or fourth in command.”
John smiled, “I’ll admit I didn’t expect to see progress occurring so quickly. Or so willingly.”
“Nothing about this is willing, cadet. That I can assure you. I sent seventy-three officers to Sixth and Seventh Fleets for re-education. I got off a call earlier today from a retired admiral that is incensed that their idiot spawns, yes multiple, won’t be in line for command as initially expected or planned. Those families aren’t happy with the firestorm you set off son.”
“You needn’t worry about reprisals,” Melnyk quickly added, “You're basically untouchable by the old guard. The outer fleets won’t allow it. Dickinson is lucky he’s remaining in command, he inherited a rotten position.”
“In any case, congratulations once again. Classes during the afternoon will be canceled for everyone. Those earning awards will have a meet and greet with their future commanders. We’re presuming everyone will graduate.”
John grunted in amusement, “That’s a big assumption.”
“Congratulations John. You’ve earned this several times over. Have a good rest of the week and take the time to enjoy yourself on Friday.”
“Thank you sirs,” John said before saluting.
John then turned and walked out the door and headed back to the dorm to change. While he was happy about the changes the fleets are undertaking the ceremony had him on edge. Recognition is not something that drives him. In fact, it goes against the very fiber of his being. This was lining up to be yet another one of those things he’d have to adapt and get used to.