Standish blinked twice. She had been in a daze since walking into the salon. “Mechcharga.” She replied.
The lady smiled and looked up at her. “Mechcharga, very nice.” She looked back down at the datapad. “There is a freighter leaving for there shortly.” She shook her head. “That won’t do.” She scanned the device. “You’ll take the luxury liner leaving in thirty minutes.” She nodded. “I will catch the,” she continued to examine the list. “ten past transport.” She looked up at Standish. “I’ll walk you to your gate, dear, you can tell me all about yourself.”
Standish smiled and allowed the lady to guide her towards the lift back down to the main level, following her almost as if floating along. The woman asked Standish all sorts of questions along the way. She did her best to answer them, but most of her responses elicited more questions. When asked what system she was from, the old lady replied that she had never heard of the Nadolo Prime System but was sure that it must be very fashionable to produce such well turned out ladies but was still perplexed by Standish’s accent.
While they were walking down the hallway, passing numerous gates and eateries, Standish spotted the sign for the transport leaving soonest for Mechcharga and even saw a few of her fellow candidates queuing to board. One of them spotted her, his mouth agape.
Looking down at the lady, Standish finally dared to inform her of her real intentions, at least some of them. “Madam, I am on a training exercise with the fleet and have limited means of getting to Mechcharga. I do not think that I will be able to pay the full fare to my destination.”
The lady patted Standish’s hand gently, then looked up at her. “Young girls going out without enough credits. My gosh. You are in a poor state, aren’t you?” She shook her head. “You remind me of my daughter.”
They continued walking without another word said until they reached a set of glass doors which parted ways upon their approach. Inside, Standish found a minimalist space with large couches and chairs positioned along the walls, and a small desk just inside the entrance with a smartly dress local male sat behind it.
As Standish and the lady got nearer, the male rose to his feet and bowed. Standish could see that the attendant was wearing an ocular device over his eyes that seemed to be feeding him information on his approaching guests.
“Viscountess Bren of the House Bren, you honour us with your presence on this fine day.” The male said.
The old lady smiled. “It is always a pleasure to be in the warm hospitality of the Vesi Lines.” She kept smiling, and with her grip still on Standish, walked up to the desk. “I’ll need transportation for myself to Porth on the next available, but first.” She paused and looked up at Standish. “My young friend here.” She paused again.
“A very fine young lady, Viscountess. Of Nadolo Prime, I believe.” The male bowed towards Standish who remained still and silent.
“Quite.” The Viscountess nodded. “She requires transportation to Mechcharga on your next available, but she has limited funds to hand.”
The male moved his hand back and forth in front of his face, as if swatting away an insect, then stuck his forefinger up straight in the air, as if on the verge of some great idea. “A friend of the House of Bren is a friend to the Vesi Line. Her transportation,” he looked at Standish. “Is complementary.” The male quickly looked down at his console, tapped a few keys, and then produced two tiny gold disks. “You are all booked, Viscountess.”
The Viscountess took the gold disks, nodded gently, then moved around the desk with Standish in tow towards the closest couch. “Sit, my dear.”
Standish manoeuvred her skirt until it was in front of her, then sat down. The Viscountess walked five metres towards a wall-mounted screen, tapped it a few times, made several selections, then rejoined Standish.
“I can never travel without a libation first.” She shook her head. “Can’t be done.” She looked up at Standish. “You know, my dear. You will have to look after yourself once you reach Mechcharga unless we can solve that quandary for you now.”
“Quandary? What does that mean?”
“You are a funny creature.” The Viscountess smiled. “Where are you headed on Mechcharga?”
“An event in the Royal Gardens.” Standish replied sheepishly.
The Viscountess beamed a broad smile. “Beautiful. I have not been there in years, but I am certain that they will not have lost their lustre.” She then looked around the room, nodding to herself or shaking her head as she scanned each individual.
After a few minutes of silence, the Viscountess spoke. “Do you see that group of males, over in the corner?” She nodded her head towards a group of three males, all wearing military uniforms.
“Yes.”
“They look like they are on official business. Full dress uniforms.” She looked up at Standish. “They do not wear those every day.” She looked back to the males, just as a service droid arrived with two small glasses filled with a light pink liquid. The Viscountess took the two glasses, passing one to Standish, and ordered the droid to go and fetch the highest-ranking member of the party across the room.
“Do you think that is a wise idea?” Standish asked.
The Viscountess took a sip from her glass, then looked at Standish. “Trust me.”
Standish watched as the droid rolled over to the group, and then returned with an older grey-haired male who looking very fit in his dark green uniform.
“Madam.” The officer addressed the Viscountess first, while Standish quickly checked his uniform for indicators of who the individual was.
“Good day.” The Viscountess pursed her lips and gave the man a once over. “You sir, you are?” She asked, but it sounded like more of a demand.
The male straightened himself upright and looked down at the two females. “I am Admiral Rexler, Commander of the 7th Fleet.”
“7th Fleet?” The Viscountess replied. “Are they not stationed at Traxis?”
The admiral smiled. “They are indeed. May I ask to whom I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“I am Viscountess Bren of House Bren, and this young lady is my friend, Val Standish.”
The admiral looked at Standish, smiled, and then looked back to the Viscountess. “And how may I be of service, Viscountess?”
The Viscountess smiled. “My young friend here is on her way to a garden party on Mechcharga.” She looked up at Standish. “I was wondering if you were as well.”
The admiral relaxed his stance, and shifted his weight onto his right foot, and gave Standish another look. “I am indeed, Viscountess.”
“Excellent.” The Viscountess looked at the admiral. “Then I can trust you can escort my friend there.” She looked at Standish. “She seems to need a guiding hand in these delicate matters.” The Viscountess gave Standish a wink and took another sip of her drink.
“Have you ever been to Mechcharga before?”
“No, Sir.” Standish replied, looking at the dense green forest that they were moving through.
“Call me Rollo.” He placed his hand on the small of Standish’s back and smiled at her.
Standish took a deep breath and looked away from the greenery and towards the admiral. “No, I haven’t, Rollo.”
He nodded. “Who did you say invited you to this party?”
Standish smiled, and remembered the final piece of advice the Viscountess had given her, use all her attributes, and leaning in towards the admiral's ear, she whispered. “I didn’t.” Allowing the Admiral another chance to look down her blouse.
The transport they were on was a long, low vehicle that had a droid at the rear controlling the journey, and while they were riding very low to the ground along manicured paths, the trip was comfortable.
Keeping her eyes to the front, Standish started to wonder how long her luck would hold. When she had parted ways with the Viscountess, she had doubts that she would be able to maintain the rouse that had been laid out for her, but here she was, close to her destination on Mechcha
rga, and possibly ahead of her fellow trainees.
The transport from AnBarn had landed outside of a massive city with buildings reaching up high into the air. The admiral, along with the two other males in his party were greeted by a full security detachment of Royal Guards who quickly ushered them into three hovering gondolas, then whisked them off into the vast forest that covered most of the planet’s surface.
For whatever reason, the Royal Guards had only verified the admiral's identity when they landed. Clearly, he was senior enough that anyone accompanying him must have clearance for the gathering at the Royal Palace. It was something that stood out to Standish as a significant flaw in their security protocols. Once in the transport, they were off without a hitch.
Now, as the forest started to thin out, she could tell that they were approaching something of great significance. An energy field ran across the path they were on, only dropping when they were twenty metres away.
After the energy field, they encountered a ten-metre high wall, whose gates were open and guarded by Light Sentinels. A final barrier was reached; this one guarded by a pair of Sentinels, and a four-person Royal Guard detachment. The transport didn’t even slow as it passed through each layer of security.
Every time Standish spotted another check-point, her heart-rate increased, and there was always the sigh of relief when they crossed them. Finally, a large building appeared in the distance, and it was at that point that the admiral pulled his hand back from behind Standish, and quickly gave his uniform a quick visual inspection.
“The Royal Palace.” He said. “I was here only fifteen days ago.”
Standish wasn’t sure if that was supposed to impress her, but the building did. It was effortless in design and even reminded her of the temple on Guhr 8-Nine. As they drew nearer, the transport made a few turns until they were on the side of the magnificent structure, stopping among an elaborate collection of flowers and exotic plants.
In the distance were several parasols and a small gathering of individuals. Live music was humming through the air, and Standish could see a flurry of droids and other servants moving about, with the occasional Royal Guard posted randomly around the gardens.
The admiral was the first to get up from the awkwardly low transport, and once he had righted himself, he walked around to Standish’s side of the conveyance and offered her assistance getting to her feet.
“Odd contraptions.” He said, looking back at the transport. “Supposed to be traditional Mechchargan skift.” He shook his head and put his arm out for Standish to take. “Shall we join the festivities?” Standish nodded.
As they made their way towards the gathering, Standish finally realised that she had actually accomplished the task to which she had been assigned, and it was a giant weight off her shoulders. Smiling, she suddenly felt a bit lighter in her shoes and looked at the handsome admiral and smiled.
Reaching the gathering of twenty individuals, Standish noted that there was a mixture of fleet officers, various government officials and other dignitaries. She quickly scanned their faces and didn’t recognise any of them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there was the curiosity of what her instructors would say if they saw her there, luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait long to find out.
Just as the admiral was introducing Standish to a trade minister, one of the service droids announced the arrival of the head of Dynamic Operations and his staff. Turning around, Standish immediately caught sight of the Senior Instructor, along with his second, both looking directly at Standish. Blinking twice, Standish turned back towards the trade minister and smiled when he introduced himself.
Ten seconds later, the senior instructor was standing next to her, a wry smile on his face. “Admiral, would you introduce me to your guest.”
The admiral looked over at the senior instructor with a look of disdain on his face. “And you, who are you?”
“Falco of the Dynamic Operations training program, Sir.”
“Can’t you see I am speaking with the trade minister?” The admiral shot back.
Falco smiled. “I can, Sir. But if you don’t mind, could you introduce your friend here.” The instructor looked at Standish, then over to the admiral.
The admiral looked at Standish, squinted his eyes, then looked at Falco. “This is my guest, Val Standish.” The admiral puffed out his chest slightly and took a step towards Falco. “And why, may I ask, is it any concern of yours?”
The senior instructor shook his head. “Sir, I’m not trying to steal your date, just curious who you thought she was.”
The admiral tilted his head backwards, looking down his nose at the senior, over to Standish, then back to the senior. “She is a friend of the Viscountess Bren of the House Bren.”
The senior smiled. “Is she now?” He looked at Standish, then reached into his trouser pockets, and pulled out a small metal disk with the Dynamic Operations symbol on it for the admiral and Standish to see. He gave the admiral enough time to recognise it, then he looked to Standish and handed the disk towards her with a smile on his face. “Congratulations.”
“What?” The admiral roared, letting go of Standish’s arm.
Standish looked down at the disk in the outstretched hand of the senior, and without waiting, snatched it from his hand.
“Thank you for your time, sir.” The senior turned sharply and moved off to join the other Dynamic Operations members that had just arrived.
Looking at the disk, Standish smiled, then looked up at the Admiral. She could tell that he was in between the emotions of rage and confusion, and with just an ounce of pity, Standish took the admiral by his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Sorry, Rollo.” Releasing his hand, she tightened her grip on the disk and walked off towards the senior instructor who was already holding out a drink towards her as she approached. She was in, and she didn’t even have to break a sweat. No punches were thrown, or explosions or weapons fire required.
For the next hour, Standish was introduced to the entire command structure of Dynamic Operations, along with all the other senior military officials that were at the function. The compliments came in fast and from every direction. No one cared she had passed the test through blind luck.
Every so often, one of the instructors would receive an update on her fellow candidates. Some had been detained on AnBarn Central, others didn’t make it out of the spaceport on Mechcharga. Of those that made it that far, several had been captured by security forces in the forest surrounding the Royal Palace. One trainee had even tried to run a speeder past one of the gates, only to be snatched by the scruff of their neck while going almost one hundred kilometres an hour by a Sentinel.
Standish didn’t know what to think about the failures of the other candidates until one of the guests caused a stir by pointing towards a figure dropping towards the gardens by parachute. The Royal Guards were already onto the intruder, but the instructors felt that the effort warranted a stiff drink and an evaluation of their overall performance once they returned to Guhr 8-Nine.
Two hours after she had arrived, Standish was sat down in a comfortable chair out in the warm sun, her eyes closed, and an ice-cold cocktail grasped tightly in her right hand. She was leaning back and felt totally relaxed. She finally felt that she was on the cusp of obtaining what she had initially joined the armed forces to achieve. Now it was just a question of getting her first assignment in Dynamic Operations.
“Standish.”
She blinked her eyes open and looked up at the senior instructor who was standing over her.
“Sir.” Standish sat herself up in the chair and was about to pull herself onto her feet when the senior gestured that she should remain seated.
“Relax.” Falco moved to a nearby chair that was open and pulled it through the fine gravel closer to where Standish was. Sitting down, he adjusted his uniform and took a sip from his glass. “You’ve done very well on this course.”
Standish nodded. “I’ve tried my best, Sir.”
The senior smiled. “Drop the sir. You’re in. D-O is a little more casual than the rest of the service, so try and relax.” He took a sip from his drink, then looked at Standish. “When we get back to Guhr we’re going to do final assessment and exit interviews. Once those are complete, everyone will be given two weeks leave before you have to report to your team.
“As you know, most teams are run out of Fleet Command on Mella II or the fleet headquarters. Once you get to your team, you’ll most likely be assigned as an assaulter, and after a breaking in period, you might be given a chance to get additional training.” He took another sip of his drink. “Wherever you land, take the queues from those with more experience than you. If training is offered, it is probably in your best interests to take it, it will just make you more attractive to senior teams when slots open up.”
“So, I’ll be going to a Beta Team?” She asked. She had hoped for something more, but perhaps her hopes were a little unrealistic.
The senior smiled. “There has only been one case of someone graduating into a Prime or Alpha Team from training.”
Standish had an idea who he was referring to but remained silent.
“Slots will always be opening up on Alpha Teams.” The Senior said in an attempt to comfort her. “You know that the D-O rotation system has operators leave Alpha Team’s and cycle through Beta Teams, right?”
Standish nodded. They had all been told how operators cycled through all the operational teams to ensure that all the Beta Teams had a minimal capability level, and while it was a lower tier than Alpha Teams, it did provide a level of parity. Only the Prime teams were allocated on an application and skill-based merit, and those slots didn’t open very often.
“I know what you want.” The senior took a sip from his glass and smiled. “You want to make it to a Prime Team, don’t you?”
Standish tilted her head to one side, looked at the ground.
“There are five Prime Teams in the entire Alliance, Standish. Just get to whatever Beta Team you’re assigned to and kick ass. If you’re as good as you think you are, and if you’re half as talented as I think you are, you’ll make it to an Alpha Team, and once there, all you have to do is distinguish yourself, and maybe you’ll get picked up to try out for a Prime Team.” He took another sip. “Just give it time.”
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