"Shit," Jacob muttered. "It was just a damn exercise. We're two months from graduating and these dumbasses couldn't just go through the motions?"
"You know what went down?" Bishop asked.
"I have a good idea," Jacob said. "Come on, let's get as far away from this bullshit as we can."
Jacob checked in his gear, including the now-deactivated Mk.9 training carbine that fired non-lethal marker rounds, his tactical harness that recorded the hits, and made it back to the barracks just in time to get cleaned up for final formation. While standing at parade rest, he largely ignored the instructor droning on from an elevated platform and tried to locate Cadet Coulier. He couldn't be sure the Jumper the MPs had been boarding had been the one the beleaguered platoon leader had been on, but Coulier's absence was conspicuous.
" … and that means all weekend passes have been suspended."
"Wait, what?!" Jacob hissed. "What did he say about—"
"Shut up, Brown!"
He began listening in earnest, trying to pick up something to clue him in as to why the weekend right after a lengthy field training exercise had been canceled. Could someone have screwed up so badly that the admiral wanted them all punished?
"Seriously, what was he talking about?" Jacob asked once they'd been dismissed. He got a few unfriendly looks but was largely ignored. "What the hell?"
"I heard it was your platoon that screwed up and got us locked down, Dipshit," a voice said from behind him. He turned and looked to see who had spoken up. She was a second-year cadet who he'd seen on the grounds before but had never talked to. Her green eyes flashed and her jaw jutted out while she glared up at him. Just as he was about to open his mouth to respond, he saw a few more cadets had drifted over, their posture and focus making it clear they were there to back her up.
Jacob knew most of his fellow cadets were well aware of his reputation with the instructors and supervising officers, and they also knew he was one more major incident away from getting booted from the Academy altogether. Most of what was said about him was bullshit, but it was true he couldn't afford another physical altercation. Not this close to graduation. He'd already shut down most of his other scams, including the underground casino and the distillery.
"You don't know shit," he said, laughing in her face and turning to leave. How the hell was it his fault he'd randomly gotten stuck with Coulier when they divided them up for a training exercise? As he walked through the throng of cadets, he could feel the mood was dark. Probably best to get back to his room before someone started spreading the rumor that weekend passes were canceled because of Jacob Brown, and not for the first time.
The United Earth Naval Academy on Terranovus was a relatively new institution. While they tried to draw much of their traditions and methodology from the United States Naval Academy, the founders had also wanted to forge their own path in preparing generations of officers for service aboard Terran starships. One of the major differences with how the brass ran things on Terranovus is that here, away from the prying eyes of politicians, the kinder, gentler way of training adopted by many Western militaries on Earth was abandoned in favor of the old ways. Even a certain amount of fighting within the cadet ranks was not only overlooked, it was expected.
Jacob sighed to himself as he walked along, staring down anybody who looked like they might be about to say something to him. After his four years at the Academy, he had learned a few truths. First, the quality of people the Navy was finding for their officer corps was impressive. All of them were motivated, intelligent, and tough…both mentally and physically. Second, despite their many admirable qualities, they were still just a bunch of kids in their early twenties. No matter how professional they could be, or how much they wanted to impress their instructors and nab a choice assignment, they couldn't help the little relapses of immaturity. When someone like Coulier began to crack under the pressure, it seemed to Jacob there was a reversion back to schoolyard tactics to isolate and abuse them. He'd found himself on the outside more than a few times during his stay on Terranovus, but normally not because he'd screwed up. His transgressions were making the others look bad from time to time.
Other than a few sideways looks, he made it back to his building without further incident. He went through the entry ceremony with the first-year cadet pulling guard duty and stepped into the cool lobby, the sigh of the door closing behind him mirroring his own of relief.
"Heard you had fun this week."
"Piss up a rope." Jacob tossed his hat at his roommate.
"So, what happened? We heard the Jumpers fly out last night and the scuttlebutt is that they canceled the exercise early for a real-world emergency having to do with y'all's platoon." Spencer was born in Louisiana but later moved to Indiana. Every once in a while, his native accent would slip out.
"I was running as a scout with that moron, Coulier." Jacob flounced on his rack. "Gibson's platoon was gearing up for a final assault to wipe us out before we could find their base and get the flag. They called the whole thing while I was still out in the woods by myself, so I have no idea what happened."
"Lucky you," Spencer said. "Word is, a bunch of folks is gettin' sent home and a few more are heading to the brig."
"No shit?" That last part surprised Jacob. There were so many people fighting for slots into the Academy that the worst punishment meted out was normally a long flight back to Earth in disgrace. If someone was getting cycled through for a judicial punishment, an actual crime would have had to occur. "I'm almost afraid to find out what that pack of idiots did… You know what? Who gives a shit. These exercises are a waste of time anyway. They have us crawling around playing soldier when most of us are going to be commissioned into the Navy and put on a starship."
"Marines."
"Huh?"
"We don't have soldiers, we have Marines aboard ships," Spencer said. "And some of the people here will be going into the United Earth Marine Corps as infantry officers."
"Then let the Corps train the five percent they skim off the bottom to lead their grunts." Jacob sneered. "It's not like we have much infantry training before getting split up into platoons and dropped off in the wilderness to fight it out."
"I don't think that's the actual point of the exercise," Spencer sighed. "I can see there's no talking to you right now. So, what do you want to do tonight since you got us locked down?"
"Please, don't encourage that rumor," Jacob said. "It'd probably be smarter if I—" He never got to finish his sentence because of a hard pounding on their door.
"They startin' this party early," Spencer said, climbing off his rack and stretching his arms out. He had leapt to the same conclusion Jacob had: the scuttlebutt about his involvement had spread and now someone was at their door for a little non-judicial punishment.
"Someone picked the wrong door to bang on," Jacob said, his blood boiling. He nodded to Spencer and yanked the door open, his shoulders slumping as he saw who was there.
"You're on your own," Spencer said when he looked over Jacob's shoulder and saw four MPs standing in the hall.
"Cadet Brown, the admiral would like a word with you," the shorter one in front said.
"Give me a minute to put on my service dress?" Jacob asked.
"Thirty seconds, Cadet."
"Thank you." Jacob didn't see any benefit in antagonizing the MPs. The fact that they were there at all to collect him and not a CQ runner meant he was likely in some sort of trouble. Big trouble. No point in giving them a reason to slap him in cuffs and march him out of the barracks like a criminal.
The admiral was Vice Admiral Wallace Cornett, the superintendent of the Academy. If Jacob was being dragged before him, it was also clear that whatever he'd fucked up this time had nothing to do with academics. Shit. He ran all the current scams he'd had going through his head and tried to determine if any of them would be severe enough to send him all the way to the top. He supposed it didn't matter what he was in trouble for. A visit to see Admiral Cornett meant he
was likely being kicked out of the Academy as he'd originally feared. Ain't that a bitch?
"It seems like you've had quite the time here, Mr. Brown," Admiral Cornett finally said, still not looking up from the tablet as he scrolled through Jacob's disciplinary file.
Jacob had been standing at attention for the better part of thirty minutes after he'd been hastily ushered into the admiral's office, the huge doors made from some indigenous wood booming closed behind him. Admiral Cornett wasn't a very imposing man, and Jacob's focus was drawn away from the administrator to the two men lounging on couches in the office. One was a captain in the UEN, but Jacob could tell this was no paper pusher. This man looked sharp, dangerous, and he stared at Jacob with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.
The other man looked like a vagabond. He was in civilian clothes and lounged indolently on a couch, one leg hanging over the armrest. When Jacob's gaze fell across him, the guy answered with a knowing smirk that angered the cadet. Who the hell was this clown?
"Am I boring you, Mr. Brown?"
"No, Admiral," Jacob answered without thinking.
"That's good, Cadet," Cornett said. "Now, what do you want to say about this latest incident?"
"I'm sorry, Admiral?" Jacob asked, genuinely confused. Should've been paying closer attention, damnit.
"The field exercise you recently participated in was the last chance for Cadet Coulier to prove he had what it takes to be an officer in the United Earth Navy," Cornett began. Now Jacob was really confused. What the hell did Coulier have to do with him? "Unfortunately, he didn't impress. He allowed a mutiny to fester under his command, and then, when you sent him back alone while scouting an enemy position, he was assaulted by four other cadets, two of whom were squad leaders."
"Yes, sir," Jacob replied out of reflex.
"Shut up. I'll let you know when I want you to speak," Cornett said conversationally. "All five cadets were collected by MPs, stripped of rank and privileges, and will be shipped back to Earth on the next scheduled transport. We've also initiated disciplinary action on nine other cadets who either helped, or failed to stop, said mutiny. Which category do you suppose you fall under?"
"The second, sir," Jacob said. So, this was how they'd get him? Because he let Coulier get his ass kicked—deservedly so in his opinion—he was going to be drummed out and sent back to Earth with his tail between his legs.
"The second," Cornett confirmed, standing and walking to the full-length window. "By itself, it would be nothing more than an embarrassing blemish on your school record but, in your case, there is a cumulative effect. Your dozens of petty violations over the last four years have painted a picture of someone who, while proficient, doesn't take his military career very seriously. You're always careful to tiptoe right up to the line of doing something that would get you expelled but never stepping over. Does that sound about accurate, Cadet?"
"Yes, sir."
"Not even going to defend yourself?" Cornett was incredulous. "A disappointment to the end, I see." The admiral gave the captain standing in the office a meaningful look and rolled his eyes at the scruffy looking man who was now flipping through a magazine.
"As much as I'd like to send you packing if for no other reason to prove a point, you're too well-connected politically and you've almost made it to graduation. You'd already be out in the Fleet by the time the paperwork cleared to terminate your enrollment." Jacob stood silently at that. He was genuinely surprised he was being considered for expulsion based on something he'd had no direct part in. The other thing that confused him was that he no knowledge of any political connections in his family, much less someone pulling strings to get him an Academy slot.
He was also surprised at how knowledgeable the superintendent of the entire school was with his exploits although, in hindsight, he shouldn't have been. The UEAS was so new that Earth had been forced to pull seasoned officers and enlisted personnel from the ranks of existing militaries. The Academy was training up the next generation of officers even as boot camps and tech schools on the planet did the same for the enlisted ranks, but it would be many years before they were ready to be in charge. As such, the size of the Academy classes was still relatively small for what they were tasked to do since there weren't many instructors to go around yet.
"You had dreams of serving on a capital ship, didn't you, Brown?" Cornett asked. "Standing on the bridge of a mighty warship in your dress blacks, traveling to new and exotic places with a front row seat to the action?"
"I did, sir," Jacob said. In fact, it was that dream that had made the tedium of the Academy bearable. He saw himself standing on the bridge of his own destroyer, protecting Earth—and his family—from any threats that may come from the stars. He'd be the stalwart protector his father wasn't, wherever the hell that loser even was these days.
The admiral turned to look out the window, gazing over the manicured azure lawn of the Terranovus Naval Academy. He looked lost in thought, as if he'd forgotten there was anyone else in the office with him. When he turned back to Jacob, there was a malicious glint in his eye, and he wore a half-smirk that turned the cadet's stomach. What now?
"I'm not sending you home, Cadet Brown, but don't think it's because I wouldn't like to. I resent people like you taking up spots that could be given to quality candidates who actually want to be here," Cornett said. "But it's not up to me…apparently. In fact, you could say you're getting an early graduation."
"So, I'll still have the chance to serve aboard a starship, Admiral?" Jacob asked, scarcely believing his luck.
"Not exactly." This time, Cornett favored him with a predatory smile. "This is where I'll hand you over to Captain Marcus Webb, the man in uniform standing to your left. Dismissed, Cadet."
Chapter 3
"The fucking Marine Corps!?"
"Watch your fucking mouth, Cadet!"
Within the span of time it had taken for him to follow Captain Webb and the civilian down the hall to an empty side office, Jacob's world had crumbled down around him. It turned out Webb was actually that Captain Webb, the man in charge of Naval Special Operations Command, or NAVSOC. All of the black ops the Fleet ran outside of human controlled space did so with this man's knowledge. Jacob had been dutifully impressed when Webb had introduced himself, although he'd been worried he'd be asked to serve aboard some intelligence trawler instead of one of the big, shiny capital ships he could see in orbit on a clear night. As it turned out, the reality was much worse.
Cornett had been honest about the early graduation, at least. What the old bastard hadn't mentioned was that it was predicated on Jacob accepting a commission into the United Earth Marine Corps, not the Navy. In an instant, Jacob's dreams turned to ash and blew away. Marines didn't stand on starship bridges except as sentries, and they sure as hell didn't command main line ships.
"Of course, sir. Sorry, sir."
"This is a take it or leave it offer, Brown," Webb said, sitting back in the chair behind the desk and putting his feet up.
"A question, sir?"
"Why you?" Webb guessed. "Why single you out when there were undoubtedly cadets with worse academic or disciplinary records? You feel like you're being discriminated against? Well, you are, but not for the reason you may think."
"That sums it up, Captain," Jacob said.
"Take a look at this video and tell me what you think," Webb said and flicked at a screen on his com unit. It was the name everyone on Terranovus used, but everyone on Earth would recognize the device as a smartphone, although the type carried by UEAS personnel had little in common with its terrestrial cousin.
The window behind Webb darkened, and then a grainy clip of a nighttime scene began playing. Jacob recognized the scene immediately as he watched himself jump thirty foot off a ledge where Cadet Coulier had just been.
"And then this one," Webb said and changed the scene. It was an aerial view of Jacob sprinting through the forest. "The analysts already looked at this and said you were running at around twent
y-five miles per hour. That's faster than Earth's best sprinters can manage, and you did it in combat gear, at night, over rough terrain, and for at least three kilometers. Care to explain?"
"Obviously there was some issue with the drone footage, sir," Jacob said. His gut clenched up in fear, and he berated himself for being so stupidly careless. Years and years his grandfather had beaten it into his head: don't let them find out what you really are. And here he was, looking at high resolution video footage of him doing something no other human could do.
"A reasonable explanation," Webb said, his smile making it obvious he didn't buy it. "But we both know that's bullshit."
"Come on, sir," Jacob decided to go on the offensive. "You know the simplest answer is often the correct one. What are the odds that this is actually footage of me running faster than any other human ever has? Almost none, right?"
"Point of clarity, this isn't even the fastest that I've seen," Webb said. "There's a man I know who can beat your speed by around ten miles per hour, which brings up point number two: is there a particular reason you go by your mother's maiden name, Brown?"
"It's the only name I've ever known," Jacob said. "I never knew my father. He dipped out on my mom before I was born."
"Now, now, Cadet we both know that's not exactly true," Webb said. "You see, I know your father, and so do you. So, I'll ask again, is there a particular reason you're not using your father's name?"
"That name means less than nothing to me…sir." Jacob could feel his blood burning, and his ears were ringing just by the mere mention of the scumbag who happened to have sired him. It wasn't only because the guy had knocked up his mom and then split… Jason Burke was the reason that he was a freak who had to constantly worry about hiding how fast and strong he was.
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