Chronicles of the Stellar Corps: Sassy

by Bernard Paul Glover

  Halcyon continued, “Her philosophy of life still clings to the faith that she was taught as a child. It should be noted that she has already sought out the Roman Catholic Chaplain, and attended the Sunday Eucharist on base. I am sure that this feeds into her great respect for life. However, it also gives rise to a strong moral stance and sense of duty. She has chosen the Corps, and I am certain that she will have the same dedication and loyalty to the Corps and to her new comrades that she has shown for her former zone comrades.

  “With regard to taking orders, Cadet Maloney is extremely strong willed. I learned that as a child she had earned the nickname ‘Sassy’ for her tendency to answer back when she perceived an injustice. She was also known to speak up for her older brother when she felt it necessary.” In spite of herself, Sarah smiled at that comment.

  The Lieutenant-Commander continued, “That said, as I noted earlier, Maloney has a fierce sense of loyalty. It can already be seen in the manner in which she has embraced the protocols of the Corps. She has demonstrated a strong respect for her superiors, and for many of her fellow cadets.” She smiled at Sarah, “Though I expect that she will still speak her mind when she feels the necessity, she’ll just do it now with the appropriate respect.” At that the entire board smiled.

  “Intellectually, she is in the top one percent. She has a Sigma-4 intelligence quotient on the old standard scales. On some of the newer scales Cadet Maloney tested off the charts. I anticipate that she will excel in her academics.

  “If she had certain first year courses already under her belt she would be able to jump directly into second year by the winter term. Considering her self-education in ‘her library’ in Brooklyn, I believe that, if we allow her to, she could complete the material on her own during the first term and be ready for second year by January. In fact, I recommend that for any course that lends itself to independent study, that we give Cadet Maloney the syllabus and materials and turn her loose.” Again, she smiled at Sarah. The Corps will gain nothing by retarding her academic advancement.

  “In conclusion, I cannot with greater conviction recommend Cadet Maloney, for service in the Stellar Corps. Further, I most strongly recommend that she be advanced in her studies and training as rapidly as is reasonably possible, without inviting burnout. The Corps will only be stronger the day that Sarah Maloney graduates from the Academy and joins her comrades in active service.” She nodded to the Commander and took her seat.

  Commander Grissom stood up and faced Sarah. “Cadet Maloney,” he began.

  Sarah stood and faced him.

  “…you have heard everything that this board has to say. Is there anything that you wish to answer, or to add? As I said earlier, we welcome your comments, but we will decide what goes into the report that is sent upstairs. The Commandant’s Committee will have the final say as to where you will begin your training and academics.”

  Grissom sat down, but Sarah remained standing. She took a deep breath. “Officers, thank you for the time and effort that you have put in to prepare your evaluations. As Lieutenant-Commander Halcyon stated a moment ago, I am very good at independent learning, and I too look forward to active service. It is my hope that I can not only begin as soon as possible, but have the freedom to advance academically as quickly as reasonably possible. I, of course, leave the decision to the Commandant’s Committee.” She nodded at Grissom. “Again, my thanks!”

  Commander Grissom rose once again. “Thank you, Cadet. I am sure that the decision to be made by the CC will not be long in coming. In the meantime, the Corps appreciates that you have only seen your family for a very brief period since your escape from the zone. Therefore, you are granted a week’s liberty, and will be returned to your family home in Manhattan at 1200 hours today. We’ll see you back at Kennedy Base at 1200 hours, Tuesday, eight days hence – Dismissed!”

  Sarah snapped to attention. She nodded formally to the board, turned on her heel and left the room. Only her attention to protocol kept her from leaping for joy as the door closed behind her. She immediately returned to her barracks and began to pack.

  To be back in Manhattan from Kennedy Base in Vermont she would have to be at the transport station to catch the 1000 hours shuttle to New York. As she packed her spare uniform she realized that she had no civilian clothes at home. She gave it only a moment’s thought. She still had credits left over from her perv hunting in the zone. What she was dwelling on as she rushed to the shuttle station were the mementos that she had left in the library. Gifts from Mandy, and others she had received from the various enclaves. Suddenly these became very important.

  At 1157 hours the shuttle began its descent into Manhattan. As it got closer to the landing pad Sarah could see her family waiting on the platform. She also saw Officer Frank Delaney, with Jessica at his side. The teen was dressed in clothing more appropriate to her age, and Sarah noted her new right arm was still swathed in bandages.

  “We wanted you to see how far she has come since you left two weeks ago,” Frank told her. “Jessica is staying with my wife and I until her therapy is complete. When we send her home, she will be a new girl.” He smiled at the child. “And,” he added, “…the home she is going to will be totally different. I’m sure that your dad will fill you in on the details, but the operation in Brooklyn so far is a complete success.

  “Many of the gang members have surrendered to the Guardsmen. They are mostly women, youths and young children, who have become tired of the violence. They have, for the most part, been classified as non-combatants. The older gangers, who resisted the forces, were also rounded up quickly, all except the Eaters. The adult Eaters attacked the Guardsmen like berserkers. They fell to Guard stingers as fast as they could run at the soldiers. They are all being held for psychiatric evaluation. The powers-that-be are saying that they may never be able to rejoin normal society. Fortunately, we have some closed facilities on one of our colony planets where they will be able to live their lives under strict supervision, hopefully regaining some of their human dignity.

  “The rebuilding process is underway, with homes for the scavengers being a priority. The crews are using the new prefab units that we developed in concert with the League engineers. Buildings are going up in a matter of days, and new neighbourhoods will be completed in weeks.

  “NYPD has taken over law enforcement in the enclaves and the outer-zone, with support, for now, from the Guard. The full rebuilding will take more than three years. The challenge now, once the scavenger families are housed and regular social and educational services are re-established, is to balance the rebuilding between the enclaves and the outer-zone in a way that re-integrates the two communities. The social rehabilitation may be a greater challenge than the physical.

  “At the same time the borough of New Brooklyn, as they call it now, needs to be re-integrated into the City of New York. The bottom line, though, is that we are well begun. It’s all thanks to you, Cadet Maloney, a.k.a. Sassy the Hunter.” He gave her a wide grin.

  To Sarah’s surprise Frank took a step back, came to attention, and snapped a salute. Sarah returned the salute with equal solemnity, and then gave him a big hug. “Thanks for taking care of Jessica,” she said, “for some reason she is very special to me.”

  “Michele and I are only too happy to. The poor kid has been through a lot.”

  Sarah then turned to Jessica. The young teen smiled. “That is so great to see,” Sarah told her, indicating her new limb. The pair hugged, though Jessica was still very careful how she used her new arm.

  “It still hurts a little,” she told Sarah. “Other than that, it’s great. I can’t tell the difference. I didn’t get the chance that night: Thank you for saving my life.”

  For Sarah, the next week was filled up with family time. Her mother took her shopping for new clothes. Her father took her to The Hague to see the “World-Gov” offices, with a stop off in London to visit the Senate building. Everywhere they went Francis Maloney was proud to introduce his daughter, the B
rooklyn hunter turned Corps cadet.

  As they toured each facility he kept up a running commentary. “With travel so rapid these days we are able to spread the various branches of the government about the globe. It gives the people a greater sense of their involvement in our united world, and now in the League as well…” he told her.

  Sarah smiled, more than that, she actually beamed. “Dad, when your term ends as Vice-Chancellor, if you don’t run for the Chancellor’s job, I am sure there will be a position waiting for you as a guide at any government complex.”

  Being able to be with her family again was Sarah’s idea of heaven on Earth.

  The Saturday before she was to return to Vermont, Sarah called up Frank Delaney, and asked if it would be possible to return to Brooklyn, to the library that she called home for seven years. Frank was surprised at her request, not because of the request itself, but because of the location she specified.

  “That building is just a pile of rubble that we haven’t gotten around to moving yet,” he said.

  “Actually,” Sarah countered, “the library is intact, for the most part, under the pile of rubble that used to be the two high rises next door. The library building was built solid, but the high rises that disintegrated over the top of it were a couple of loads of junk. The fall, apparently, took place slowly over the course of a few days; almost like a gentle rain, it seems. The library below was virtually undamaged, but it is perfectly hidden if you don’t know where the entrances are.”

  Frank told her that he would arrange for an escort for her the next day, one that he would lead himself. He explained that the last remnants of the gangs, who were still prowling about, were exponentially more hostile. If they knew that Sarah was back they might mount an all-out assault on the building. There were also the well-meaning scavengers and the enclave residents who were looking to name her a living saint that she also needed protection from.

  It was an emotional visit. After packing up a number of mementos, her spare katana and shuriken from her room, she went to Mandy’s room. She asked Frank Delaney to arrange for various items to be packed up and shipped to her at Kennedy Base. “Then they can turn these rooms back into offices. All that needs to be done afterward is to remove the debris and make a few repairs and the library is back in business,” she said.

  “Or a shrine…” was Frank’s reply.

  The weekend, of course, passed all too quickly. Following mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and brunch in the restored Rockefeller Centre across the way, the family opted for a day in Central Park.

  After passing several pleasant hours, Sarah returned home to pack. Most of the stuff from her room in Brooklyn she put into the family’s storage unit, or left in her bedroom at home. She took her uniforms and a couple of her new civilian outfits, her katana and shuriken and little more. She had learned to travel light.

  Sarah made up her mind to return on the Monday evening mag-lev out of Central Station to Vermont. Arriving a half-day early, she reported in with Commander Grissom. Despite the fact that it was 1900 hours, he was still in his campus office. “You are still on leave until 1200 hours tomorrow,” he reminded her, “but if you are that anxious to know how the Commandant’s Committee ruled on our proposals, you can drop by my office in the Command Centre at 0930 hours.” Sarah indicated her desire was to know what the committee’s decision was, and agreed to meet Grissom in the morning.

  Sarah arrived at the Command Centre at 0929 hours. Commander Grissom was waiting. “I’m in between meetings, so I will make it quick.” He handed her a five-page document. “You can read the details here.”

  Grissom smiled. “The Committee accepted all the panel’s recommendations. You must attend all the physical training sessions with your group, but the trainers will accelerate your program wherever possible, so that you will be ready to advance in January. As to the academics, you must check in with your instructors for each course, once a week, and submit a written précis of your work, to keep them in the loop, and to demonstrate your understanding of the material. You will also have to complete all the class assignments, and sit special exams at Christmas. The Committee’s directives are spelled out in detail there.” He indicated the document in her hand.

  “The committee also wants you to attend classes at least once every two weeks, even though you will undoubtedly be far ahead of your classmates. They hope it will bring about some bonding with your fellow cadets. Also, they figure that if you are as far ahead as we figure you will be, then you may motivate your peers; at least until you move up in January.” He smiled. “Any questions?”

  Sarah returned his smile. “Not at this time, Sir,” she responded. “I will need to read this.” She held up the report.

  “Very good, Cadet; if you have any questions after you have read it, my regular office hours are posted on the door.”

  Sarah came to attention as the Commander rose from his seat. “Thank you, Sir,” she said, nodding smartly.

  Grissom returned the nod. “Dismissed,” he said. Sarah turned on her heel and left the office. The Commander smiled at her back, certain that she would be an incredible asset to the Stellar Corps.

  The next week, following the medical procedures outlined by Dr. Halpern, Sarah’s career in the Corps began in earnest. After the morning workout and a quick breakfast, she reported to the Simulator Centre for combat training. If Sarah had any illusions about that training being easy, they were about to be dashed.

  The period started out with a reunion of sorts. Sarah learned that officer candidates, like her, regular “grunts” and “programmers” were equally distributed among the various training groups. When she joined up with her group she was greeted by the smiling face of Peter Preston.

  After a slightly formal hello – Peter was after all a programmer while Sarah was a five-percenter, he gave her a quick update. “You were right! All I had to do was try and get into Manhattan wearing colours and I was busted immediately. I pleaded guilty at the overnight court, made a little speech outlining what I had done, and expressing my remorse, and they gave me the option right away. So, here I am.” Peter looked Sarah in the eye. “Thanks, this is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Now all I need to do is not wash out.”

  As the session began Sarah could see what he was talking about. As she watched Peter go head-to-head with the simulants in the training area it was obvious that he was getting beaten, badly. The instructor rode him harder than everyone else, except her. Sarah she rode the hardest of all.

  “C’mon, hunter, I know you can take a number of humans at one time, but what can you do against four Drixians?”

  Sarah showed her that many of her one-to-many strategies were still effective against non-humans. So next she sent her up against a group of Vernians. These were a little harder, but she still managed to find a technique from her early martial arts training that was effective against them. It was when she sent Sarah up against a three “man” team of Zarans that she found herself in trouble.

  The Zaran simulants were seven feet tall or larger. They didn’t seem too muscled, until she got up close. That was when she saw that their muscles were tightly coiled, giving their bodies a lithe appearance that belied their true strength. It also made their bodies very hard, resistant to many direct blows. Because of their height she decided to go for the backs of their knees to bring them down. That was her next surprise.

  Sarah made as if she was going to hit them high, but at the last minute she ducked under their grasp and attacked the most rearward Zaran, striking from behind. It seemed obvious to Sarah that their knees would be vulnerable, until she hit the being hard at what should have been the pivotal point. Nothing happened. It was as if she had kicked a tree. Before Sarah had the chance to switch to another strategy, the Zaran simulants were on her. If their simulated blows had been real Sarah would have been soundly beaten.

  As it was, the simulants were allowed to get a few shots in, to demonstrate how badly the strategy had failed.
Their programming stopped their attack before Sarah was injured. As the simulants withdrew, the instructor approached. Sarah snapped to attention.

  “I’ll bet that the library where you were living didn’t have any e-books on comparative alien anatomy, or on inter-species combat, did it?” Lieutenant Glennan asked.

  “No, ma’am,” Sarah replied crisply.

  “Well,” Glennan responded, “ours does. I recommend that you check out a couple of them. You have talent, Cadet, you need knowledge. Not like Preston, over there,” she indicated Peter on the opposite side of the training module, “he hasn’t got a snowball’s hope of making the cut. That kid’s headed for a rehab colony unless he improves very soon.”

  “Ma’am,” Sarah began.

  “Yes?”

  “Ma’am, permission to work with Mr. Preston, please, Ma’am. We can get in a few extra hours during the rec period, Ma’am.”

  The request surprised Glennan. She thought about it for a moment. “If Preston agrees, permission granted. Keep me informed.”

  “Yes, Ma’am!” Sarah replied.

  Her next class was small arms training. After giving the instructor a demonstration of her skills with knives, katana, shuriken and nunchaku she was advanced to hand-held energy weapons.

  “I hear that you are already familiar with the military class stinger. So, I am going to introduce you to something that you have yet to try,” Gunnery Sergeant Atos began. He handed Sarah a hand weapon. “Cadet Maloney, say ‘hello’ to the PPW, the hand-held Phased Pulse Weapon. It’s the little brother of the PPC, the Phased Pulse Canons mounted on our starships. You’ll meet the larger, rifle version, later.”

  “The first thing you’ll notice is the obvious difference in both weight, and the way that the weight is distributed over the length of the weapon,” he continued, as Sarah balanced the gun-like weapon in her hand.

  “There is more weight in the muzzle, as opposed to the stinger where all the works and the power supply are in the grip. You’ll see how that affects your aim and shooting strategy. Of course, it is larger than the stinger. On maximum it has enough power to disrupt matter at the molecular level.”