Valor's Calling

by Kal Spriggs

  “This is fairly common knowledge among professional engineers,” Commander Scarpitti said. “And all ship commanders know that merchant ships and military ships have different capabilities to sustain damage. This is the key reason... and until the past decade, it was generally assumed that a deeper and broader drive field was necessary to sustain a military grade warp field.”

  She brought up a third warp field, this one very different from the other two. It was sharp, almost angular. “This, is what we’ve begun calling a Zubaran Field, a variation of the standard Alcubierre Field. It looks radically different because it was designed to be radically different, by a military engineer on Drakkus Prime.”

  I frowned as I looked at it. The curve was asymmetric, one side went down gently while on the outward side it arced up more gently. Commander Scarpitti detonated the simulated bomb again. The other two diagrams bowed, the new field barely quivered. “This is a modeling projection based off of observed data. We haven't been able to learn exactly how Drakkus does it, but this drive is far more robust than a normal military drive. It seems they're keeping their secrets to themselves on how to make it, but we also suspect, from the size of the vessels mounting them, that it's also more efficient. This is a military grade drive with a depth equal to a cruiser... and it's mounted in a destroyer.”

  The class went silent. It wasn't just that that was impressive. It was that Drakkus was sort of infamous for being aggressive. They'd recently conquered the Oberon system. They'd conquered other star systems. And in reality, they weren't very far away from Century.

  “Warp theory is old. We've managed increases in efficiencies by using newer solid state technology, but this, ladies and gentlemen, is something that changes the entire paradigm. This is why we study warp theory, because something like this could be incredibly valuable... and someone in this room might learn how to do it.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Something Rings A Bell

  The semester continued to fly by and I started to have less and less time to do anything other than sleep, go to class, train, and occasionally go to grav-shell races.

  Now that we'd learned our roles for drills, they put us through rotations where we learned every other job. Some of them seemed easy at first, until they threw in more complicated scenarios. We learned how to load up the warp-fighters, running the antimatter warheads from the deep bunkers to the hangars. We learned how to operate the aerial defenses. We learned how to load and arm the combat skimmers. We ran through scenarios where we were the attacking force or where they'd do an aerial transport and put us on the defense in a different location. Sometimes it was to the Grinder where we’d operate against a unit training there. Sometimes it was other places on the planet where we’d act as defenders or attackers. Half the time we got a briefing on the fly and it was clear that our team and section leaders had no more preparation or information than they gave us.

  Every weekend it was something different. Every exercise, our training officers watched us, evaluating our every move. I quickly saw that while my plebe class struggled to learn and become proficient with all the new skills, the next year’s upper classmen were preparing to take over. In just a few months, the first classmen would graduate and then the second classmen would take over... and they were trying to get ready for that.

  Everything continued at a furious pace. I got more time in skimmers. Not just in the simulator, but actually flying. It was like grav-shell racing, only with far more power. I actually felt guilty when I thought that... and when I realized that I liked flying a skimmer more than driving a grav-shell.

  Through it all, there was class and there was my friends and Kyle Regan. It startled me, one day as we were running, just how much of a part of my life he'd become. We studied together, we hung out together, and that started to feel natural. It felt far better than my crush on Karmazin or the weird feelings I'd had for Mackenzie. With Kyle, I really felt like we worked together, I felt like we complemented one another.

  The breakneck pace didn't slow, either, as we came up on our final exams for classes. The scariest part of it all was listening to upper classmen and even the first classmen. I figured they'd have a handle on things, that this would become easier.

  They were struggling just as much as the rest of us. Cadet Third Class Trask failed too many of his engineering exams, he was getting set back and he'd return next year. He’d be in our class, which was really strange to think about. Gault failed out, he just couldn’t keep up with the work and one day he was packing up his stuff. The first classmen were putting in their requests for their assignments for after graduation, but some of them weren't even sure they were graduating.

  Could I handle three more years of this... or worse, four? What would I do if I hit another class like Commander Scarpitti's, only this time I failed it? The constant pressure, the constant stress, it was unlike anything else. Yet part of me loved it. I didn't have any distractions. No one was trying to kill me. All I had to do was focus on classes and duties.

  I stopped gaming. Grav-shell season ended and I stopped going to practice. I wasn't the only one. Dawson came by and told me that the whole shed was empty, no one had time. I stopped going to Commander Pannja's kerala classes, mostly because I had too much to study for, and I put up with his stern looks during our flight training and told him that I'd be back as soon as I finished finals.

  I was nearing the end of the first year... but I realized this wasn't a sprint, it was a marathon. I had another three years... and this was only the beginning. All of this was to prepare us to be officers in the Century Planetary Militia. Was I really going to be ready for that?

  Struggling with questions like that made me feel like I was writing another of Commander Bonnadonna's papers.

  ***

  “Is finals over with yet?” Ashiri asked plaintively.

  “Not yet,” I said. We'd spent most of the past week studying hard. I'd knocked out the final edits on my civics paper for Commander Bonnadonna. Despite myself, despite my previous distrust for him, I'd actually come to like the class. The history class, too. I didn't want to like the subjects. They were way outside of my interests, but the constant engagement, the struggle to find answers to complicated problems... I'd started to find myself caught up in it.

  It was like a game, or a puzzle, one where there wasn't a predetermined answer. In this puzzle, trying to find the right answer, or even just the questions we asked ourselves, was the point as much as any answers we came up with.

  I'd already signed up for one of his classes for next year.

  “There's only so much we can be expected to do,” Ashiri groaned. “I can't believe this test review from Commander Scarpitti... it covers everything.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. She'd seemed to find it amusing to lay out the entire semester in her review. I was more than a little aghast. Normally, at any other school, each of the subjects we'd covered in her field theory class would have been separate senior-level classes. In fact, if I understood things right, we'd cover each of them in separate classes over the next few years.

  But her review had gone into exhausting detail and she'd told us that we'd have to run through the calculations for a ship design to a set of parameters she'd send us, covering the antimatter plant, the radiation shielding, and the warp field design. It made my head hurt thinking about it. I'd spent hours studying with Kyle and I still felt like I barely had a grasp for what I needed to cover.

  Most of my other classes weren't nearly as involved. “Ready for the flight test?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Ashiri nodded. “I saw you and Kyle down at the simulators earlier today, you having issues with meeting the checkpoints for Commander Pannja?”

  “Uh, no,” I flushed. Kyle and I had been playing games together, going through a racing sim that his father had sent him. “We were just spending time together, you know?”

  “Oh,” Ashiri said. There wasn't anything I could put my finger on, but she almost sound
ed disappointed. I thought about how her relationship with Alexander Karmazin had sort of fizzled.

  Probably best to change the subject. “How's your family doing?”

  “Good,” Ashiri smiled, “they can't afford to fly out for the end of the year, but they're doing well. My little sister is trying to knock out all the prerequisites for the Academy.”

  “Oh, she's got two years, right?” I asked, trying to remember. When Ashiri nodded, I couldn't help but smile, “Maybe my brother will be one of her Cadet Instructors.”

  “Oh, your brother is attending for sure, then?” Ashiri asked.

  I nodded. “He sent in his packet for the Prep Course as an early submission and he got his acceptance letter yesterday. My mom's not all that happy about it, but she's supporting his decision.”

  “That's good!” Ashiri nodded. “That's really good.” She went quiet for a moment. “My brother, he's interested in coming, but I don't know... my parents are very against it.”

  I remembered. “What do you think?” I asked.

  Ashiri shrugged, “I want him to do what he wants to do, but I worry about what my parents will say about it. It shouldn't be an issue, but my mom is very traditional...” She sighed, “In Ten Sisters, it wouldn't even be an option. In many ways, my parents love Century, but in some others they cling to the way things were... you know?”

  I didn't, really. But I thought about Sashi Drien, how she'd attended the Academy against her father's and grandfather's wishes. Her situation was different, yet it wasn't, really. I saw that Ashiri expected some sort of response. “Everyone has disagreements with their family, I guess.”

  “That is for certain,” Ashiri nodded. She bit her lip, “Have you seen that we're in the first group scheduled for implants next year?”

  I nodded. Doctor Aisling's classes this semester had focused on how to gain the best use of the neural computer and how to integrate its functions and avoid typical issues. I still felt uncertain about the whole idea. Part of that was the stigma, the fear. Part of it was that it was something so permanent. Once we had the neural computer, we'd have it for life. There wasn't a safe way to remove it. Doctor Aisling said there was a way to shut it down, to make it inert, but it would still be there.

  “I guess it's bound to happen sooner or later, right?” I asked.

  “Did you... do you think the special testing we went through will be involved, somehow?” Ashiri asked. She sounded a bit breathless as she asked it... and I felt my own heart race a bit as I remembered the feeling, the power, of being tied into her machines.

  “Maybe,” I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “I try not to think about it too much,” I admitted. I didn't like Doctor Aisling. She scared me, more than a little. The thought that she might have done something to my mind, to all our minds, terrified me.

  “Me either,” Ashiri said. “All the same, I hope we get connected like that again. It was just so... amazing.” She looked down, as if suddenly ashamed.

  I didn't really know how to respond. Some part of me felt the same way.

  ***

  “Final test results are up!” Karmazin shouted from down the hall, “We’ve got our final point ratings for the year... go Sand Dragon!”

  I pulled the results up on my datapad. The first thing I checked was my score from Commander Scarpitti's final. I'd passed... and for that I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn't done great, but the list of scores, each one with an alphanumeric identifier label instead of a name, showed that passing was an achievement in and of itself. She'd failed nine or ten people just from my class.

  I already knew I'd passed my flight test and I wasn't worried about my other exams, so I pulled up the class scores and found my name. Jiden Armstrong, ranking number two. “Karmazin beat me out for first place this year,” I commented.

  “I'm third… again,” Sashi gave a sigh. “Oh, look at this, your boyfriend is number six, that's a big jump...”

  I looked down the list recognizing more of the names. Dawson had made the top ten as well. I wasn't surprised to see Bolander and Thorpe in the top twenty. I didn't think either of them were as good at the technical classes, but both of them had gone the pure tactical track, which meant they didn't have the hurdle of Commander Scarpitti's engineering class.

  I kept scrolling down spotting names I recognized. My eyes widened, though, as I found Sashi Drien midway down the list. Her point breakdown showed a zero for a class and when I checked, I saw it was Commander Scarpitti's class. She couldn't have done well in her other classes, either, not with a serious drop like that.

  She failed a class. I should have felt some bit of satisfaction. She'd shot me, she seemed to hate my guts. She probably would have done a cheer if our situations had been reversed. But I just felt empty. I didn't want her to do badly, I realized.

  “Look at this!” Ashiri hurried over to my desk and switched over the display to the First Class rankings. “Mackenzie got top tier! He graduated first in his class!” Right next to his name was a big star... that meant he was clear to graduate and his final rating was confirmed.

  “Wow,” my eyes widened as I realized what that meant. A moment later, I heard some shouts and then a dozen first-classmen were running down the hallway, they were pushing Mackenzie ahead of them. They all looked so happy, so exuberant. I couldn't help but envy them. It will be my turn, in three years.

  They rushed down the corridor and the rest of us followed. Out on the parade field, I saw the entire school had gathered, the First Classmen running for the decorative area at the front of the parade ground. There was a bunch of decorative statues and military monuments there, so at first I didn't understand what they were doing.

  Mackenzie ran up to a platform, atop of which was a big bell. He gave a shout and rang the bell, yanking hard on the lanyard and filling the entire parade ground with discordant notes. The entire school cheered. I saw him throw his hands up in victory and I couldn't help but cheer with everyone else. Five years of hard work had paid off for him. He hopped down and another first classman hopped up behind him to ring the bell, then another. The cheering went on, but after a few minutes, the crowd started to thin.

  As the seventh or eighth person rang the bell, I looked at Ashiri, “Is this going to go on for a while?”

  She nodded, “Everyone rings the bell.”

  There were three hundred cadets up there to ring the bell. It looked like it would take a while. Hours maybe. The bell rang again and I suddenly had a headache at the discordant noise. “I'm going to walk around for a minute.”

  “What?!” Ashiri shouted.

  “See you later!” I shouted back.

  The press of the crowd, the shouts and the cheering were too much for me. I backed out of the crowd and then headed off as fast as I could go. The ringing of the bells and cheering making it hard to think. The arena, I thought to myself, it should be empty right now.

  ***

  I leaned over the balcony of the arena, looking down into the maze that Webster had built. After the noise and disruption up at the parade ground, it felt good to be in the calm and quiet. From this perspective the familiar feeling gnawed at me again. I didn't know where I'd seen it before or why it felt so familiar.

  I leaned against one of the big pillars that held up the arena ceiling, looking down at the maze. The idea was there, just outside of realization and it drove me. I didn't know why it bugged me so much. Webster was dead. It wasn't as if knowing why the maze looked familiar would really matter to anything. In a couple weeks, they'd tear the whole thing down anyway.

  I looked down at the chamber where I'd nearly died. The massive basalt pillars jutting from the floor and terminating in open space, held in place by their own massive weight. They'd be connected to the ceiling, though... or carved from the same rock as the ceiling and floor and walls...

  The idea started to coalesce.

  “I'm not going to quit!” A raised voice interrupted my train of thought.

  I went still, recog
nizing Sashi Drien's voice.

  “You failed a class, you barely passed several others, and you switched your degree back to the tactical track despite father’s advice,” I peeked around the pillar and I saw Sashi and one of her older brothers a quarter of the way around the arena stands. “If you continue, then you will only bring further embarrassment to our family. Think of our grandfather, think of how it will look to have one of his grandchildren fail out.”

  “I thought you agreed with father, that it didn't matter how well a woman did,” Sashi snapped. “Or was that only when I did well?”

  “You still came in third to that kutaya,” her brother sneered. I wanted to punch him, not just for insulting me, but for treating Sashi that way. “And that was last year. This year you are barely midway up the ranking. If you'd failed another class, you would be removed from the Academy and I wouldn’t even have to ask you.”

  “I won't fail, and I won't quit!” Sashi snapped

  I felt suddenly embarrassed, I didn't mean to be eavesdropping, but this certainly wasn't a conversation they meant for others to hear.

  “You will resign,” her brother responded, his voice confident. “Father had me draft your resignation letter. All you have to do is sign and submit it. If you do not, then the family will not support you. You will be disowned, father will not recognize your name and grandfather will make certain that you have no career, even if you do somehow manage to graduate.”

  Sashi didn't respond. “I'll give you a few hours to consider your options. You will resign before the graduation ceremony. Do the right thing, Sashi.” He turned and walked away towards the nearest set of doors.

  Sashi turned and walked in my direction. I bit my lip and crouched back against the pillar. Please don't see me...