They have to see it differently…and with all those piranhas among the Senators, you have to know that no one, not even the friendliest Senator, does anything for free.”
Marius ruminated on this for a minute. “Thanks for talking with me. I’ll keep all this in mind, I promise.”
“Just watch your back, all right?” Kratman pleaded. “I’ve seen far too many of my old officers and men taken out by Justinian—and his allies—as it is.”
* * *
Tired and emotionally drained, Roman Garibaldi staggered out of the Examination Hall hours after he’d entered. It felt as if he’d been in the room for years, as if his personal universe had shrunk down to the examination room and the terminal he’d used to answer the questions. All hope of a First had faded, to be replaced by the desperate hope that he might just have scraped a Third. A Fourth or below usually meant repeating the fifth-year at the Academy, though Roman wasn’t sure if that still applied in wartime. He returned to his room, collapsed into bed and fell asleep.
Hours later, he awoke, ordered a small meal from the food processor, and then fell back asleep after eating it. He felt at loose ends; now that the exams had been completed, he had to wait until the proctors had completed reviewing their answers. All that mattered was passing the exams.
He tried to keep the thoughts of war from his mind, but he just couldn’t. Would doing worse on his exams mean he’d be sent immediately to the front? Or would he be kept back as an incompetent?
The following morning, he was awakened at the usual time and ordered to report to the Assembly Hall. He wasn’t the only one, as he noticed almost all of his fifth-year class had been summoned.
As he and the others poured into the compartment, he saw holographic test results hovering in front of his eyes. There were no Fourth or Fifth results, he noted at once; the unlucky cadets would probably be spared public humiliation. He scanned the Thirds and saw a couple of familiar names, but his was missing.
Bracing himself, he scanned the Seconds, yet his own name wasn’t present. Thank goodness!
Taking a deep breath, he looked at the Firsts and saw, clearly, ROMAN GARIBALDI. He’d done it!
Friends shook his hand or hugged him, eager to share their congratulations, or demanding to know where he was going. He accessed his implants and searched for his orders. They were waiting for him in the network.
“ Enterprise ,” he said in delight. The Federation Navy’s latest flagship had been his first choice, although he’d known that even with a First, the odds weren’t high. “I’m going to the Enterprise !”
“Congratulations,” Cadet Sultana Narayanan said. Her accented voice was amused. “So am I.”
Roman grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. At least he wouldn’t be completely friendless when he arrived. Between them, he was sure they could learn the carrier’s ways and fit right in. He barely heard the speech from the proctors, warning the non-First cadets that their orders were still being cut and that they’d be informed as soon as possible. He was going to the Enterprise !
“Come on,” Raistlin said. All differences between them had faded, for Raistlin had made a First, too. “Let’s party!”
Chapter Eight
The Federation Navy’s standard doctrine for building and deploying carriers was developed during the First Interstellar War and refined over the following centuries. It should therefore be asked, loudly, why that doctrine was ignored when it came to building the Star Carrier designs .
- An Irreverent Guide to the Federation, 4000 A.D.
FNS Enterprise , Sol System, 4092
“We’re coming up on her now,” the pilot said in a bored tone, sounding as if he’d flown the mission hundreds of times before. “You may wish to come forward and watch as we approach.”
Roman wondered how the pilot could be bored—wasn’t the Enterprise the most famous ship in the Navy?—but
Marius ruminated on this for a minute. “Thanks for talking with me. I’ll keep all this in mind, I promise.”
“Just watch your back, all right?” Kratman pleaded. “I’ve seen far too many of my old officers and men taken out by Justinian—and his allies—as it is.”
* * *
Tired and emotionally drained, Roman Garibaldi staggered out of the Examination Hall hours after he’d entered. It felt as if he’d been in the room for years, as if his personal universe had shrunk down to the examination room and the terminal he’d used to answer the questions. All hope of a First had faded, to be replaced by the desperate hope that he might just have scraped a Third. A Fourth or below usually meant repeating the fifth-year at the Academy, though Roman wasn’t sure if that still applied in wartime. He returned to his room, collapsed into bed and fell asleep.
Hours later, he awoke, ordered a small meal from the food processor, and then fell back asleep after eating it. He felt at loose ends; now that the exams had been completed, he had to wait until the proctors had completed reviewing their answers. All that mattered was passing the exams.
He tried to keep the thoughts of war from his mind, but he just couldn’t. Would doing worse on his exams mean he’d be sent immediately to the front? Or would he be kept back as an incompetent?
The following morning, he was awakened at the usual time and ordered to report to the Assembly Hall. He wasn’t the only one, as he noticed almost all of his fifth-year class had been summoned.
As he and the others poured into the compartment, he saw holographic test results hovering in front of his eyes. There were no Fourth or Fifth results, he noted at once; the unlucky cadets would probably be spared public humiliation. He scanned the Thirds and saw a couple of familiar names, but his was missing.
Bracing himself, he scanned the Seconds, yet his own name wasn’t present. Thank goodness!
Taking a deep breath, he looked at the Firsts and saw, clearly, ROMAN GARIBALDI. He’d done it!
Friends shook his hand or hugged him, eager to share their congratulations, or demanding to know where he was going. He accessed his implants and searched for his orders. They were waiting for him in the network.
“ Enterprise ,” he said in delight. The Federation Navy’s latest flagship had been his first choice, although he’d known that even with a First, the odds weren’t high. “I’m going to the Enterprise !”
“Congratulations,” Cadet Sultana Narayanan said. Her accented voice was amused. “So am I.”
Roman grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. At least he wouldn’t be completely friendless when he arrived. Between them, he was sure they could learn the carrier’s ways and fit right in. He barely heard the speech from the proctors, warning the non-First cadets that their orders were still being cut and that they’d be informed as soon as possible. He was going to the Enterprise !
“Come on,” Raistlin said. All differences between them had faded, for Raistlin had made a First, too. “Let’s party!”
Chapter Eight
The Federation Navy’s standard doctrine for building and deploying carriers was developed during the First Interstellar War and refined over the following centuries. It should therefore be asked, loudly, why that doctrine was ignored when it came to building the Star Carrier designs .
- An Irreverent Guide to the Federation, 4000 A.D.
FNS Enterprise , Sol System, 4092
“We’re coming up on her now,” the pilot said in a bored tone, sounding as if he’d flown the mission hundreds of times before. “You may wish to come forward and watch as we approach.”
Roman wondered how the pilot could be bored—wasn’t the Enterprise the most famous ship in the Navy?—but
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