The Reign_Destiny_The Life Of Travis Rand

by Lance Berry

  Chapter 12

  The standard United Earth Force uniform for first-year cadets consisted of olive green slacks and shirt, with black shoes. There was also a green dress jacket, which was mandatory at assemblies only. Luckily, the rain had let up completely, so Travis didn’t have to worry about his uniform getting mussed on the first day. As Travis stood with his roommates about a hundred or so yards away from the front steps of the Shea-Engratt Division, he had never felt so proud in his life, as to be a part of this sea of green.

  There were young men and women from all across the world; black, white, Hispanic, members of the Pan Asian Provinces and even the Russian Federation. As Travis looked around, he noticed one of the girls who had been aboard the transport he had taken to the school. Danielle Keys was her name–a cute little thing, with vivid gray eyes and shoulderlength, light brown hair. She happened to be looking around as well, and noticed Travis glancing in her direction. She waved ambitiously, making certain that he saw her. He waved back, and they shared a warm smile.

  “Atten-SHUN!” a voice boomed out over the crowd. Travis spun his head back to face forward and snapped to attention, as did the other seven thousand students also in attendance. There was a temporary podium set up on the top step of the Division building, and an officer in her early forties, wearing captain’s stripes, stood behind it. She eyed the crowd judiciously, as if taking in every face and deciding whether or not each individual was worthy to be here.

  “Good morning, Cadets. I am Captain Enola Imani, of the Heavy Cruiser Mansor. I am here today to both welcome you to the Sanderson School, and to introduce our key speaker. It’s not every day I’m able to get back to Earth, let alone return to my old stomping grounds here at Sanderson. It’s been at least a decade and a half since I first entered this place, and probably about three years since the last time I was planet side. The next four years of your lives will be tough, but that’s what is necessary in order to mold you into the soldiers you need to become, to keep your home planet safe. I look forward to one day hearing great things about each and every one of you. And now, without further ado, the Commandant of our school…General Harry Cordero.”

  There was a round of loud applause as Captain Imani stepped aside and General Cordero, a tall, intimidating man in his early-to-mid sixties, took the stand. He held his hands up a moment, and the audience soon settled down. Cordero took off his black officer’s cap and laid it on the podium. His hair was still dark, peppered only lightly with gray. His mustache was almost fully white, a striking contrast unintentionally pointed out when he smoothed it slightly with his forefinger before addressing the crowd.

  “Greetings, Cadets. There are certain phrases in our society which, while relevant to their given situations, have taken on the almost comical tone of cliché. I mean to use one such phrase now, but without any irony intended… for it is a certain and absolute truth that today, this day, truly does begin the first day of the rest of your lives. From this moment on, you are not merely citizens of this world. You are something better, something nobler; you are an example. An example of what it means to willingly turn yourself over to the principles and ideals of self-sacrifice. You are now members of the greatest single military unit ever conceived in the history of all civilization: the United Earth Force. Only fifty-one years ago, the armies of Earth were still compartmentalized into sub-divisions: the Navy, the Air Force, the Army, the National Guard and others. It was the wisdom of our world leaders that drew the disparate divisions together–not only the American forces, but the Israelis, Afghanis, Russians, the United German Kingdom and others from around the globe. As one united force, we thrust a defiant fist into the face of our would-be conquerors with a bold message: we will not surrender, ever–and stay the hell off our world!”

  Thunderous applause and cheers greeted this last statement. General Cordero waited a little longer this time, before gesturing for the crowd to be silent. Once they calmed down, he continued: “And now, it is your turn to be molded into the tool UEF needs you to be. Centuries ago, in order to temper a sword to perfection, the Japanese would heat an iron bar until it glowed. It would be beaten with a hammer until it obtained its proper shape, and would then be folded over to strengthen it. This process would be repeated as many times as necessary, until finally the sword would be shocked in water, to cool it off…at that point, it would finally be ready. The Japanese called this their “Thousand-Fold Technique”. United Earth Force has its own version of the Thousand-Fold, and it is instituted at every Academy across the planet. At the end of your four years here, you will be ready to take your place among your elder brethren in the military– shocked in the water, if you will–and be placed on the front lines to face the enemy. Not everyone here will make it through the four years, of course,” he added soberly, “but for those of you who do, you will be that tempered sword…folded a thousand times over to achieve military perfection. I look forward to that day.”

  With a respectful nod, General Cordero stepped away from the podium, amidst flourishing applause. Captain Imani then took the stand once more, and gently waved the mass to quiet down. “This concludes our main assembly. All Cadets will now report to their next scheduled destination, as per the itinerary sheets posted in your barracks. Again, welcome and good luck.” More applause for the captain, and then the cadets began to scatter about, each headed to where they needed to be.

  Travis, Theo and Francis returned to the main steps of Brigand Division, where many of the members of their squadron had already arrived. Travis was surprised to see Danielle, who walked/half-skipped over to join him. “Hey, Travis,” she said as she gave him an enthusiastic hug which he readily returned. “Hey yourself, Danielle. Guys, this is Danielle Keys, out of Wisconsin. Danielle, this is Theo Booker and Francis Horatio, two of my roommates.”

  “Hi,” she pleasantly said to each as she shook hands with them. “So, where’s your fourth?”

  Travis shrugged, and it was Francis who answered, eyeing her appraisingly as he did so. “From what I hear, his transport got off to a late start. He’s coming in from the PanAsian Provinces, so he’ll probably get in late this evening.”

  Theo grunted disdainfully. “Yeah, like we need any more of those slope bastards in an institution like this.”

  All looked at him in shock. “Man, you better watch that,” Francis said admonishingly. “Racism’s supposed to be a thing of the past! Talk like that will get you booted out of here.”

  “My great-grandfather fought in the Asian-Zulu War,” Theo snapped back. “He died at the hands of those bastards, trying to keep Africa free.”

  “Oh, here we go…” Travis muttered, more to himself. Yet Theo turned on him in an instant. “What, Rand? You don’t think it was a blow to the African people to have their homeland taken away?”

  “Let’s not go into a history lesson, Theo,” Travis said evenly. “The AZ War ended almost twenty years before you or I, or anyone here, was even born. Was it unfortunate? Yes. Am I sorry about your great-grandfather? Yes. Is it in the past, where it should remain? Definitely yes.”

  Theo looked at Travis as if he were a bug that had crawled out of hiding from under a sink. “You should be ashamed to call yourself a black man. Siding with the same people who, for all I know, killed folks you were related to as well.”

  Travis’ jaw twitched. A mental nerve had been struck, and he took a threatening step toward Theo, heedless of the fact the bespectacled youth was almost a head-and-a-half taller than him. “Watch your mouth, Theo. You don’t know my history, and I don’t want or need to discuss it with your trash-talkin’ ass.”

  Theo glowered at Travis, and clenched his fists. “Oh, you a big man now? You want me to show you just how small you really are?”

  Travis didn’t flinch, but he was now uncertain of this course of action. He had never lost a fight in his life, but every boy he had ever fought was at least his own size. And now that both his hackles and Theo’s were raised, it seemed there was no w
ay to gracefully bow out of this situation, especially since he now realized that Theo’s raised voice was drawing a crowd of onlookers. Fighting was a strict infraction of the Sanderson rules, and Travis didn’t want to risk getting kicked out. But how to get out of it?

  To both his relief and dismay, the issue was suddenly decided for him. “Cadets Rand and Booker,” a booming voice called out from the top of the steps. Both young men grimaced, and all turned to look as Colonel Wentwell stepped out of the building, approaching them both. “What, pray tell, is going on here?”

  Travis and Theo looked at one another, their faces mirroring the embarrassment and unease at what was to come. They snapped to attention, saluting as one. “Nothing, sir!” Theo answered loudly. Wentwell curtly returned the salute, and eyed them both suspiciously. “Nothing, you say? It looked to me as if you were about to mix it up. But that can’t be true, can it? You can’t both have come so far, only to want to turn right the hell around and go home, am I correct?”

  “Sir! You are correct, sir!” Travis agreed.

  Wentwell pursed his lips as he looked them both up and down a moment more. “As you were,” he said finally, and turned away from them. Both boys started to relax, when a sharp “Atten-SHUN!” made them snap back into place. Wentwell stood at the top of the stairs, looking out over his corps. “Good morning again, Cadets. Most of you have either met me or seen me, as I stopped by your rooms earlier this morning. I am Colonel George Wentwell, and I am your immediate supervisor and den-father. This year begins the first of four that you will all hopefully serve here at Sanderson. I say ‘hopefully’ because there will be drop-outs and failures– you can be one hundred percent certain of that. Fully ten-to-twenty percent of the young men and women who are signed up or drafted simply do not have what it takes to be soldiers in this military. So I hope you all have plans to fall back on, should I decide to boot you back into the private sector.

  “Each year as you are promoted, barring an extreme breaking of the Code of Conduct, I alone as your den-father will have the final say on whether you move to the next level, or you simply move out. Make no mistake, under your breath and in the privacy of your quarters, you will come to know me by many different names: ‘son of a bitch’, ‘bastard’, ‘ass-wipe’ and others. As long as I don’t hear you say these terms of loving devotion aloud, you won’t have to worry about me biting your head off and mailing your headless cadaver back to your parents.”

  There were some snickers in the group, but a stern look from Wentwell decisively cut them off. “I am a hard-ass, born in Detroit and certified for it on the battlefield. But as hard as I will be on each of you, I can be equally as fair and rewarding, if you do your best, follow the C.O.C. and treat one another with respect and civility.” He made a point of looking in Travis and Theo’s direction as he said this last part.

  “I understand that many of you are used to having your own rooms at home. Well, I hope you brought photos of those rooms to keep you warm at night, because those days are over. The quarters you now share with three other people are the exact same type you would have aboard a Heavy Cruiser, serving as enlisted personnel. You will not have individual quarters again, even when you become seniors, or firsties, in the vernacular. And don’t think that you will all graduate and immediately move into a captaincy of a Heavy Cruiser. Once you leave this school, your success in moving up in rank will be determined by how well you follow orders, the exemplary way with which you perform your duties, and your own solid character–or lack thereof. We are not setting out to develop captains here; our final goal is to turn out the best soldiers possible, to serve on the front lines in battle. Everyone here will eventually be placed on a Heavy Cruiser upon graduation, but what you do once you get there will determine your own destiny.

  “As of this moment, all two hundred of you are in Squadron G-1, otherwise known as the War Hawks. It is your responsibility to memorize and know the two books you will find on your bed, upon returning to your room: the UEF Corps of Cadets Standard Operating Procedures and the Code of Conduct. You will receive tests on them in the future, and I may decide to verbally quiz you on any part of either book at any time. If you do not know every last facet of each book, you will receive a demerit, or derogatory strike against your record. Receive enough demerits and you will be told to leave. Does anyone have any questions whatsoever? Now’s the time to ask.”

  There were no questions–at least, none that anyone dared to voice. “In that case, welcome to Sanderson School, and your plebe year. You may now remove yourselves to your next scheduled destination. Dismissed.”

  All began to spread out, heading in newly formed cliques and groups for Druice Hall. “Rand and Booker, front and center!” Travis almost swore under his breath, then turned and headed back to where Wentwell was standing. He and Theo automatically assumed at-attention. “I don’t know what in the world you two could have been arguing about on your first day of being here, and right now I truly couldn’t give a damn,” Wentwell informed them as he eyed the two young men with a stern glare. “But as of now, the argument is over, do you understand me?”

  “Sir! Yes, sir!” they answered in unison.

  “You two are bunkmates for a year, and possibly longer than that, depending on room space next term. You don’t have to love each other to death–hell, you don’t even have to like each other–but you will get along. Am I making myself crystalline clear?”

  “Sir! Yes, sir!”

  Surprisingly, Wentwell’s features softened a bit, and his voice abruptly took on an almost fatherly tone. “You two are now on the path to becoming soldiers. It is important that a unified front exists between not only you, but every cadet on this base. Because the time may come when you will have to depend, with your life, on the very person you’re arguing with now. Regardless of whatever your beliefs, you are now brothers under the Code of Conduct for the United Earth Force. Now, get out of here–I believe you’re both scheduled for haircuts. Dismissed.”

  The two youths saluted, and Wentwell returned. He left without another word, and Travis and Theo walked together in silence toward Druice Hall.

  After receiving his haircut (or “getting scalped”, as Francis called it), Travis and his roommates returned to their quarters as ordered for study period. They sat on their beds, each silently reading from the black leather bound books which had been left on their bunks for them. The United Earth Force Uniform Code of Conduct was not a particularly thick book, but it was an intense read, and caused Travis to pause to reflect many times on what he was studying. The book was full not just of guidelines, but seemingly black-and-white ideals, which he hoped he could live up to in the future.

  A cadet will not lie, cheat or steal, or tolerate those who do.

  You are now part of a unit. That unit is now your family. A soldier will always kill or die for their family.

  Every action you take, from now until the day you retire, must be for the greater good of United Earth Force.

  It is your duty, as a UEF soldier, to keep your home world safe from all threats, both Terran and extraterrestrial.

  The days of racism and sexism are done. Under penalty of separation, you will never, in any way, verbally or physically threaten or harm another cadet or civilian based on their race, gender or sexual preference.

  There were a few dozen more C.O.C.s, but Travis found them all easy to digest. He glanced up at the vid-com that he and Francis had agreed to share; the time index showed 1150 hours. “Hey, guys–we better get over to the mess.”

  Francis and Theo agreed, and all closed their books, setting them down on their bunks with an unconscious reverence. As they started to head out the door, a thought came to Travis. “Hey, Theo…”

  Theo halted at the doorway and turned back to him. Travis offered his hand. “I’m sorry about before.” Theo stared at Travis’ hand a moment, and the words he had read in the UEFUCOC came back to him as well. “Yeah, me too,” he said as he accepted and shook Travis’ hand
. They headed out the door together, and no more was said of the matter that day.

  Travis was pleasantly surprised to find the food served in the Talbert Mess Hall was actually that–food. He knew from his foster father that since Heavy Cruisers were sometimes away from Earth for months or years at a time, that real food was served aboard those ships instead of rations, in order to help maintain morale. Travis hadn’t expected to find the same at the school’s mess, as this had only been a recent development aboard UEF ships and he had heard some military schools still followed the same old rationing protocol. He enjoyed his Salisbury steak and baked potato, then he and his roommates headed back to quarters to study the UEF Corps of Cadets Standard Operating Procedures.

  This book was thicker than the C.O.C., but Travis did his best to make his way through a good portion of it. The UEFSOP had color photos of the most efficient ways to organize barracks, head (bathroom) and other areas such as closets and all storage facilities. There were instructions on how to respond to officers and what to expect if organizational instructions were not followed. As he looked at his vid-com’s time index, Travis couldn’t believe he was actually looking forward to his scheduled one-on-one time with Colonel Wentwell.

  Around 1530 hours, Travis stood in a fairly long line of cadets whose names ended with “R”, waiting his turn to see Wentwell. At first, he was certain that due to the line’s length, the meeting with Wentwell would cut into his personal time. Travis was irked by this, until he realized the line was moving faster than anticipated. In almost no time at all, he heard Wentwell calling him in, from the other side of the half-opened door.