Dear Diary,

So I had my first class today. On the good side, I had the other three ROTCs with me. On the bad side, we shared the class with three of the blond haired blue eyed rich kids. Even that had a silver lining, though, what with duBois being who he is. Class started immediately after breakfast ended. The four of us double timed it up to the Practice Yard, and duBois still beat us there. Once the Barbie Brigade and the other half dozen or so students in the class arrived, while Angel, Bill, Saffron, and I all stood at parade rest and the others just sort of milled around, the Marshall called the class to attention.

"Listen up, Cadets. You see these four? That's how I expect you to be standing here when I arrive. All of you, fall in behind them in straight lines."

Boots struck the ground behind me, followed shortly by duBois asking, "What is it, Cadet?". I wished I could turn around and look, but the four of us had scored a few brownie points by knowing the basics of military posture, I didn't want to spoil that.

A moment later, a supercilious whine tested my self-control, "Shouldn't we be in front?"

The Marshall walked past me by a solid three yards if I judged the echo of his voice correctly. "Those four arrived the least late of any of you, and they're at least attempting proper bearing. The rest of the class showed me that even if they don't have a clue what to do on their own, they can follow simple instructions when those are given to them. All you three have managed to do so far is show me you can't even do that; why would I entrust a squad of your fellows to your leadership?"

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Another voice cut in, this one far smoother, but still just a bit petulant, "You know why."

DuBois responded to that with a hearty guffaw followed by, "I know why you think you should be in charge, because one of you is a legacy, and all three of your families bought your spots here at PCHA."

Right then Mr. Smooth convinced me that what he lacked in personality he made up for with a complete lack of common sense by interrupting the Marshall. "We've all been prepared for the Academy, Sir! Years of physical training, the best tutors, We're just better than them."

My foot twitched, and I know I lost anything resembling calm, but I forced myself to stay at Parade Rest.

"You know what makes that especially sad, Cadet?"

"Uh... no?" Smooth lost some of his smoothness, no doubt at the Marshall getting up in his face.

"Cadet Mac Conno there managed to beat every damn one of you three during Strength testing, and Cadet Diaz set a new school record for the Endurance test. Hell, even Driver beat you three on the Agility test. All that after you lot had all that very special, very expensive preparation. All three of you come see me after class, but for now, Lancaster on the left, Rider next to him, and Rosen on the right. MOVE!" His last word echoed through the Yard. Before those echoes died down, a whisper reached my ear.

"I'll get you for this, peasant. Lawrence Lancaster does not make way for your kind."

Great. I'd been here for a week, I'd been wondering when life would throw a nemesis at me.