Marina’s planned statement collapsed and she blurted out, “Um, what?”
Her expression softening, Marina’s mother said, “You’re my only child. I know when something’s on your mind. You know you can tell me anything.”
With an impish sparkle in her eye, she added, “Did you finally meet a nice boy?”
“Mo-om!” Marina exclaimed, blushing. Her dismal dating life was something of a sore spot. “No, I signed up for Space Force today.”
Her mother’s face went blankly neutral for a few seconds, “Oh,” she said in a soft tone. Marina winced, waiting for her reaction. “I know we talked about this, but I hadn’t realized you’d decided already,” her mother continued, “I thought you’d tell me first.”
“I, it, um,” Marina stammered. She paused and took a deep breath, “I know, and I’m sorry. The recruiting office was right there and it’s something I really want to do. Something I need to do.”
Marina’s mother looked at her plate for a few seconds. When she looked up, her eyes were shining with unshed tears, but she was smiling.
“I thought we’d have more time, Doodle Bug,” her mother said. “But my baby girl really is grown up. I am so proud of you right now.”
“Mom,” Marina said, the heat of a blush rising in her cheeks, “don’t go all mushy on me.” Marina started to tear up as well.
They both pulled themselves together and dried their eyes. “Okay,” her mother said, blowing out her breath, “now we’ve gotten that out of the way, we should celebrate!”
The rest of the evening they spent talking and laughing. There was even some amused cringing when Marina’s mother pulled out the baby albums.
****
The last few weeks of the semester seemed to fly by for Marina. There was some stress when she found out she’d been chosen as salutatorian and was expected to make a speech. But she survived final exams; graduation; and, most challenging of all, speaking in front of her graduating class and their families.
Not long after, Marina reported to the academy for placement testing. On arrival, they had her sign out a tablet, the first of many signatures that day.
“Keep this with you at all times,” the stern looking older woman said as Marina signed for the device. “It contains all the documents you’ll need over the next two days, a map of the campus, a schedule of appointments, and a GPS locator for when you get lost.”
Marina looked up at the last comment. “Everyone gets lost their first time here,” the woman said, a slight smile creasing her face, “Everyone. Don’t be embarrassed, you’ll get used to it.” Marina started to relax, until the woman added, “Assuming you make the cut.”
The next two days were a blur of activity. They were made up of exams, both physical and psychological; as well as interviews with training personnel. There was little time to rest or eat. Marina was overwhelmed and out of place. It was all very impersonal and clinical. Occasionally, Marina wondered if she’d made the right decision.
Once everything possible was tested, measured, counted, and signed, Marina returned the tablet and was told to go home. They would contact her within a week and let her know the results of all the tests.
Marina left with a feeling of despair. All the other candidates she’d seen looked much more assured, more confident. She was sure her shyness caused her to flub at least one of the interviews. What chance did she have?
After she got home, Marina started looking for a job with a local accounting firm. Maybe she should go back to school for her Masters? Neither option generated any enthusiasm; she knew her heart was set on making it into Space Force.
Marina’s mother chided her for worrying about nothing.
“Oh, Doodle Bug,” she exclaimed one day, when she found Marina sitting at her desk moping. “How could they not take you? You’re smart; you got good grades at school; after all, they don’t make just anyone salutatorian; plus all the volunteer work and other outside school stuff. So stop fretting and enjoy yourself.”
A few days later, Marina’s mother was proven right. The acceptance letter arrived in the mail and everything started moving fast.
****
After reporting to the academy campus admin building for in-processing, Marina was issued another tablet, and assigned a dorm room. In addition to other information, the tablet also held her training schedule. College being so recent, the list of classes was familiar and somewhat comforting.
Marina headed to her dorm so she could drop off her personal things. Her room was one of four doubles around a common room with a shared bathroom. There were people unpacking in two of the other rooms, but Marina’s room, number 3, was empty.
After putting her things down on one of the single beds, she looked around. Two beds, two closets, two desks with a lamp and tablet dock on each, two chairs, and barely enough room to move about. This, or something similar, was going to be home for the next two years.
While inventorying the room, Marina heard a soft knock and a quiet, nervous, “Hello?”
Turning around, she saw a young woman with an old fashioned rolling suitcase and a backpack, standing in the doorway, looking uncertain.
“Is this 0216-3?” she asked, glancing at her tablet screen.
“I hope so,” Marina replied, “because that’s where I’m supposed to be too.”
She held out her hand, “I’m Marina, I guess we’re going to be roomies.”
The young woman pulled her suitcase upright and fumbled her tablet to her left hand before shaking Marina’s. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Ekaterine, but everyone calls me Rina.”
“Marina and Rina?” Marina observed, “Oof, some people might have too much fun with that.”
Marina and Rina spent some time putting their scant belonging away before they headed to the cafeteria. The food wasn’t as bad as Marina had been led to expect, but it was heavy in carbs, she’d have to watch that.
The next day began early and ended late. Academy students had heavy course loads, and Marina’s schedule was no exception. This set the pattern for the rest of their first semester. While Marina and Rina didn’t see much of each other, as time spent in their room was dedicated to sleeping or studying, they did have some time to socialize. Since they were both somewhat shy, much of this time was spent with their few friends watching movies and solving the problems of the world.
The classes were challenging, but only a few were truly hard. Marina found herself tutoring some of the other students in math and data analysis. Remote piloting and drone operations were her problem classes. She needed help.
Marina wound up spending a lot of time with one of the other students, a young woman named Amanda. She was a tall, athletic, blond, farm girl who had an instinctive feel for piloting; she was also seriously math challenged. She and Marina were able to exchange assistance and, even though their personalities were so different, they soon became close friends.
When the third semester began, they put in a request to be roommates. This was where Marina learned something else about her friend; she had a very active social life. When not studying for her own classes or teaching other students to fly drones, Amanda would be out partying. Marina was amazed, impressed, and uncomfortable with her friend’s social ability.
On more than one occasion, Amanda would drag Marina to a party to “have some fun, unwind, and meet some boys.” Invariably, Marina would wind up in a corner talking with two or three other students while Amanda danced and let loose. Marina was just too self-conscious to get out there in front of everyone like Amanda did.
When Marina wasn’t studying or tutoring, she spent most of her time in the remote piloting simulators. Occasionally, Amanda would come back from a party and find her still there, practicing.
“Knock, knock,” came Amanda’s voice from behind Marina’s shoulder. Deep in concentration, Marina jumped and sent her wobbling, virtual dro
ne augering into the virtual ground.
“Drat!” Marina exclaimed, “I can’t do this.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Amanda said consolingly, “Two things. First, yes you can. You’re getting better, you just need to stop over thinking and let it flow.”
“And the second?”
“If you’re going to be a pilot, you’ve got to learn to curse better. Seriously, drat?”
Laughing together, they headed back to their room.
With lots of hard work, and Amanda’s help, Marina started to get a feel for remote piloting. Once she passed that hurdle, it slipped from frustrating to easy. Marina couldn’t understand why it had been so difficult before. But now she had the knack, her instinctive grasp of numbers really helped. Marina was able to calculate speed, vector, wind, and all the many other variables on the fly.
Eventually, Marina started giving Amanda tips. Though she was put out at first, Amanda quickly came to appreciate the help from her former pupil.
****
Marina came bouncing into the shared dorm, dragged Amanda out of her chair, and danced her around the room.
“I did it! I did it!” she exclaimed.
Gently disengaging herself, Amanda said, “Okay, you did it and now you need me to help hide the body.”
With a delighted laugh, Marina responded, “No, I passed my Advanced Drone final! I passed!”
“Oh, sweetie,” Amanda gave her a hug, “That’s great. Congratulations.”
“The instructor said I passed with flying colors.” They chuckled at the pun.
“You know what this means?” Amanda asked.
“I can apply for the high altitude operations class,” replied Marina with enthusiasm.
“No, goose,” laughed Amanda, “Well, yes, but not what I meant. We need to celebrate!”
Marina’s exuberance chilled slightly, she knew what Amanda meant by celebrate.
“There’s a party tonight over at the Anderson building.” When Marina looked uncertain, Amanda added in a wheedling tone, “I hear Tom Rodgers is going to be there.”
Tom was in the fast track engineering program and was considered the most handsome man on campus and a generally nice guy. Marina, along with most of the other female students, had a major crush on him.
****
Marina knew she was going to die. She actively wanted to die. If she was dead, everything wouldn’t hurt so much.
Amanda came into the room with a couple of glasses and some pills.
“Oooh, mned,” came out of Marina’s mouth. “Swahtha?” she asked.
“Water and pain killers,” Amanda replied in a quiet voice which nevertheless thudded in Marina’s ears.
“Marry me.” Marina said weakly as she took her share.
After washing down the pain killers and falling back on the bed, Marina tried to piece together the events of the party.
With a focused effort, Marina asked, “Manda, did I really flirt with Tom Rodgers last night?”
“Nope,” Amanda replied with a wicked grin, “you kissed him.”
“What!” exclaimed Marina, at a volume that had both women clutching their heads.
“Yup,” Amanda described the event with glee, “You marched right up to him, looked him up and down, said ‘You’ll do nicely.’ and planted a big, wet, sloppy kiss, on his chin.”
“Noooo,” wailed Marina quietly. She pulled a pillow over her face.
“Oh yes,” Amanda continued, trying unsuccessfully to stifle laughter.
“Admittedly, you couldn’t have reached much higher without a footstool.”
Pitiful groaning noises emanated from under the pillow. Amanda plucked it away.
“There’s more.” Amanda added, holding back more laughter, “After that spectacular kiss, you pulled back, said ‘bleah, prickly’ and wandered off. By the time I pulled myself together and found you, you’d wandered into the living room, and were trying to change the channel on the fish tank.”
“I need to leave town,” Marina moaned, “I need to leave town and change my name.”
At the woebegone look on her friends face, Amanda couldn’t hold back, and burst into a bout of her usual bubbling laughter. Cut short with a wince and one hand on her forehead.
“No, no, no sweetie,” Amanda consoled her. “Everything’ll be fine. You needed a night of bad decisions. Everyone knows how hard you studied for the drone final. It’ll be all right.”
“Promise?” Marina asked in a small voice loaded with desperate hope.
“Trust me, I’ve done worse.” Amanda replied. At the pleading look on her friend’s face, she added, “Promise.”
Amanda was right. Except for the occasional lighthearted joke, the party and Marina’s actions were soon forgotten by their friends.
Life at the academy continued along the usual track. The students worked hard and they played hard. Some couldn’t handle the pressure and dropped out. But Marina, with considerable effort, excelled and graduated near the top of her class.
****
On graduation day, Marina’s mother sat in the stands, beaming with pride, as her daughter accepted the symbolic scroll and exchanged salutes with the school commandant.
“Oh Doodle Bug, I am so proud of you.” Marina’s mother said after the ceremony, pulling her in for another hug.
“Thanks mom,” Marina said, feeling the loving warmth wash over her. Her mother’s approval meant more to her than anything she could imagine.
That evening, Marina, her mother, Amanda, Ekaterine, and a couple of Marina’s college friends went out to dinner. There, her friends competed by telling Marina’s mother embarrassing stories about her only child. Marina’s mother would laugh or cringe as appropriate, then tell a story of her own from Marina’s childhood.
It was all in good fun, and Marina laughed as much as any of them. There was also an element of sorrow. Marina realized she didn’t fit in her old, pre academy life anymore. The three graduates had their own language, their own in jokes they couldn’t easily explain to the others.
More than once that night, Marina caught a sad look from her mother, or an exacerbated one from Amanda or Rina. Still, it was the most relaxed and enjoyable night they’d had in the past two years.
In the days following graduation, Marina awaited her first assignment with some trepidation. There were so many more new lieutenants than positions available. When she opened the email, Marina saw she was assigned to Space Force Drone Command - Speicher, at Combined Air and Space Operations Center - Nellis.
With a sigh of relief, Marina sat back; this was what she’d heard referred to as a “seasoning” assignment. It generally meant the Powers That Be had confidence in the cadet’s abilities. She wouldn’t be stuck in a file room somewhere, she’d be doing what she’d trained for over the last two years.
****
Marina smoothed down her dress uniform and resisted the urge to fidget as she waited to be called into the office of her new commander. She knew very little about Captain Dawson except he was considered to be “old school,” whatever that meant.
Eventually, the Captain’s aide stepped into the waiting room. She was a fellow lieutenant, but with poise and a sense of self-assurance Marina despaired of acquiring herself.
With a polite smile, the aid gestured Marina to the office, “The captain will see you now, Lieutenant.”
Marina nervously stopped one step into the office, came to attention, and saluted.
“Cad…Lieutenant Petran reporting, sir,” Marina’s face heated at her fumble. Two years of calling herself cadet had created a conditioned response.
Captain Dawson looked up at her with a slight smile, he’d heard the slip, but had no intention of embarrassing his newest subordinate any further.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Have a seat,” he gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.<
br />
After a moment’s hesitation, Marina sat on the edge of the left hand one, She clasped her hands in her lap and waited.
Looking past the captain, there were a number of photos on the wall behind his desk. In addition to the standard ones of the President, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of the Air Force, and the Chief of Space Operations; there were others of aircraft, both old and new; and some of the Captain himself with different people.
However, one stood out. It was a picture of a four star general with a bulldog like face, wearing an old style air force uniform, and looking sternly, almost glaring, at the camera. Marina wondered at the significance of this picture, but didn’t know how to ask.
“So, Lieutenant Petran,” the captain began, flipping through her personnel file. “According to your academy records, you excelled in math, including both data and statistical analysis.”
He paused and one eyebrow rose slightly.
Marina quietly cleared her throat, “Yes sir, I was a math major in college prior to attending the academy.” Some of the stress eased after the entire sentence came out without another flub.
“Yes, that’s one of the reasons I requested you for this post.” Captain Dawson replied.
He flipped a few pages in her file.
“You also did quite well in drone operations. Your instructor had some very complimentary things to say about your level of dedication.”
Looking up from her file, Captain Dawson said, “Which is why I think you’ll be an asset to our team here.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, sir,” Marina replied nervously.
“But I need to make one thing perfectly clear, Lieutenant,” the Captain said in a calm voice.
“If you do your job to the best of your ability, and it’s pretty clear how good that ability is,” he tapped her file with one finger, “I’ll back you up all the way to the Joint Chiefs,” he paused, waiting for a response.
Marina nodded, her mouth dry.
“However,” he continued, his voice hardening slightly, “if you’re irresponsible, cut corners, or put any of my people at risk, I’ll have you out of this service so fast, you’ll leave a ‘you’ sized hole in the air. Understood?”
Space Force: Building The Legacy Page 5
