Chronicles of the Stellar Corps: Sassy

by Bernard Paul Glover

  “It’s a disintegrating weapon?” Sarah asked in surprise.

  “Within range,” her instructor confirmed. “There are many hostile situations where that is advantageous. You’ll see, the first time you are trapped in an enclosed space and no way to get out. It really helps when you can make a new door for yourself.”

  Sarah had to agree with that assessment. “Still,” she said, “it is a little daunting; all that power.”

  “I’m glad to see that you appreciate that point,” Atos told her.

  That evening Sarah waited for Peter in the Simulator Centre, as the evening recreation period began. Peter arrived five minutes late. “Crewman Preston reporting as ordered, ma’am,” he said formally, coming to attention.

  “At ease,” Sarah commanded. The look on Peter’s face showed it all. He coveted his rec time and didn’t want to be there. “You were ordered here on my suggestion, Crewman. Glennan is ready to scrub you from the program. Unless you can stop getting your butt kicked by the simulants, she’s going to wash you out. You know what that means, don’t you, Crewman Preston.”

  “Yes, ma’am, it means two years, minimum, in a rehab colony, ma’am.” Peter answered, formally.

  “That’s right,” Sarah confirmed. “Peter, I didn’t send you across the Bridge in colours so that you could be condemned to a prison planet. I believe that the Corps will give you a good future. You work hard, do your hitch, and you can muster out a whole different person, with a positive future in front of you. You can even choose to make the Corps your career, and still have a great life. Only you have to keep from being washed out. Are you willing to work to prevent that?”

  When Peter didn’t answer right away Sarah changed her tone a bit, “Peter, you are a courageous guy, you have a good heart, and you have a talent for tactics that I’ve seen you use more than once to save someone’s life, in the direst circumstances. You’re worth the effort, and I’m willing to work with you. Are you willing to work?”

  Peter thought about it for a moment. “Yes ma’am,” he said. Sarah saw a new look of determination replace the look of near-defeat on Peter’s face. She gave him a broad smile. “Good, then let’s get to work.” In the Simulation Centre’s control room Lieutenant Glennan watched on the monitors, making notes in Sarah’s file. “She’ll make a good officer,” she thought.

  As things go, the extra training with Peter went all too well. He was a quick study and, for a former ganger, he was in exceptionally good shape. Where things seemed to get out of hand was when, after a week, Peter came to the session with three more recruits who were also in danger of washing out over their combat training. Sarah graciously accepted them into her extra-curricular classes. Then, a week later, each of her new students brought a new student. Seven students soon became ten. Ten became fourteen, and then sixteen, before Sarah closed the class to any new students.

  After six weeks of extra training all her students had improved enough that they could keep up with their regular classmates, but the classes didn’t stop.

  The day that Sarah disbanded the group Peter approached her to take on additional students to replace the ones who had just “graduated”.

  “Really, Peter,” she told him, “it is starting to cut into my study time as it is. I should be much farther ahead by now, but I have been putting in the time with the training group that I should have spent in study. Working one-on-one with you is one thing. It is easier and faster.”

  “But you are so good at it,” Peter protested. “If I can, I’ll help.”

  Sarah considered his request for a moment and came back with a counter offer. “I have another idea. What if I worked with you for another two weeks, just us? I’ll teach you how to teach them. You teach the class. I’ll come in to start you off each session, and I’ll test them at the end of each week, but you do the rest.”

  In the first week of November Student Crewman Peter Preston began his first session with six new volunteers. On Monday of the second week of November Student Crewman Preston and Cadet Maloney were summoned to the Commandant’s office.

  “It has come to my attention,” Vice-Admiral Valentin began, “that the two of you have been conducting after-hours training in single combat techniques for students in danger of washing out.” Peter and Sarah stood at attention before his desk.

  “Yes, sir,” they responded in unison.

  “It has been also noted that you have been very successful in raising the skill level for these, mostly programmers, to the point where they have been able to meet the standard, in some cases surpassing it.” His manner was stern, but Sarah was hearing something else in his voice. Just as she noticed it, his whole manner shifted.

  “Well done!” he said, smiling. “This has been a fine example of leadership on both your parts.” Both Peter and Sarah inwardly let out a sigh of relief. “I am particularly pleased with your progress, Student Crewman Preston. That is why I am promoting you to Student Petty Officer, First Class. Keep up the good work, young man. Report to the quartermaster to collect your new insignia, dismissed.”

  Working as hard as he could to supress a grin, Peter nodded his acknowledgement of the order, turned smartly on his heel and left.

  The Commandant then turned to Sarah. “Lieutenant Glennan is most impressed with you, Cadet Maloney. First you volunteered to work with Mr. Preston, then you motivated him appropriately when necessary. You accepted additional students, but knew your limits, and produced a fine group of fighting men and women. Lastly, you taught Mr. Preston how to carry on in your stead, giving him just the right amount of supervision and correction as required. I am most impressed indeed. It is also noted that to do this you sacrificed needed study time.

  “You have demonstrated character in the finest traditions of the Corps. Effective immediately you are promoted to the rank of Cadet Lieutenant, First Class. I should tell you that I had to think long and hard about this promotion. You certainly earned it, but jumping over Ensign and Second Lieutenant will ruffle some feathers. There are some students who already resent your special academic program, but everything that I have seen tells me that you can handle it.” He smiled again, as if at an inside joke. “Just promise me that if you do have to handle it you won’t break any bones, Lieutenant,” he joked.

  Despite still being at attention, Sarah returned his smile. “I’ll do my best, Sir!” she promised.

  “It’s appreciated. Oh, and one last thing: While your action with your students was commendable, even admirable, in future please endeavour to avoid cutting into your study time. The Corps needs officers like you. Keep up the good work and I’d be willing to bet you’ll have your own command before you turn thirty.”

  “Again, thank you Sir,” Sarah said. “I promise to do my best. If the Commandant will permit, I find the academic challenges most enjoyable. No encouragement to study is required. If you make that an order, it would be one that I would be most happy to obey, Sir!”

  The Vice-Admiral smiled a fatherly smile, “I thought that that was implied in my evaluation, Lieutenant, but so ordered. As with Petty Officer Preston, you are to pick up your new rank insignia from the quartermaster, dismissed!”

  Sarah nodded her acknowledgement, turned on her heel and smartly left the office.

  The Academy Commandant was not wrong about ruffling feathers. When Sarah turned up at the mess hall that evening wearing her new rank she was immediately accosted by Cadet Second Lieutenant Leonid Markov.

  “Maloney!” he bellowed. Sarah kept walking. Markov had always been a pain where she was concerned. He resented almost all five-percenters, that Sarah was given such a favorable program was quite a sore spot for him. He took every opportunity to ride her as hard as he could. Now he cut in front of her as she headed for the chow line.

  “I didn’t think that anyone was that stupid: Lieutenant’s pips? What the hell do you think you’re doing CADET? There is no way that you jumped three ranks after only three months.”

  Sarah stopped. She
addressed Markov evenly with a firm tone. “Second Lieutenant, just because you took the slow road is no reason for your outburst. I’m guessing that the fact that I actually need to remind you that rank insignias are issued through the quartermaster, only on orders from the brass, accounts, at least in part, for why after three years you are still only a second lieutenant. Taking your obvious deficiencies into account, I’ll let you off this time, but if you persist in this behaviour towards a superior officer I will put you on report for insubordination!”

  Sarah’s response elicited titters from many of the cadets and students within earshot. Markov was not liked by many of the junior cadets, and by none of the non-officer track students. She neatly side stepped his attempt to block her path and continued towards the chow line.

  Markov exploded in fury. He spun about and attempted to use the momentum to land a roundhouse kick in the small of Sarah’s back. At the last second she sidestepped his attack. Markov over rotated, and fell on his backside. The entire mess hall roared with laughter.

  Their laughter only served to enrage Markov further. Scrambling to his feet he caught Sarah by the arm, attempting to spin her about while preparing to sucker punch her as soon as she was facing him. It never happened. Using his motion, she shot her foot out at the last moment, catching him in the back of the knee. Again, Markov landed on the floor with a resounding thud. All assembled broke into riotous laughter once more.

  Markov was now a crazed juggernaut. Gaining his feet once again, he charged at Sarah. From the door came the sound of a PPW sidearm, and he collapsed to the floor. Two Security Patrol officers quickly secured Markov as he was still recovering from the light stun blast, and the crowd cheered as he was led away.

  “ATTENTION ON DECK!” Commander Grissom bellowed from the door. Everyone snapped to attention. He approached Sarah. “Cadet Lieutenant, this is a most inauspicious way of celebrating your promotion,” he told her. “Would you care to explain?”

  “Sir, Cadet Second Lieutenant Markov was unhappy with my advancement. He expressed his opinion. When I refused to dignify his insults, he attempted to get physical. I resisted his violent attacks. Each time he failed to engage me his anger increased. As the Commander is well aware, attacking in a state of high emotion never works out very well. Mr. Markov’s failed attacks landed him on his gluteus maximus twice, eliciting laughter both times. This only served to anger him further. Events were reaching the point where I might have had no choice but stop him when the SPs intervened, Sir.”

  Grissom turned to the nearest cadets. “Can anyone confirm this report?” Everyone within earshot of Sarah’s report raised their hands. “I see.” He pointed generally to a handful of students in the front row. “Give your names to my aid tomorrow. You may have to be called as witnesses.” He turned to the crowd, “As you were.”

  Grissom turned to Sarah. “You realize, Lieutenant, you will have to put Mr. Markov on report, which will lead to a hearing, unless he admits his guilt. Though with this many people willing to testify, I have a hunch that he will take a plea. It’s the only way he can avoid expulsion. Carry on, Lieutenant, and congratulations on the promotion.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Sarah gave Grissom a slight smile.

  The next day Cadet Lieutenant Maloney filed the formal charge against Markov. When the students from the cafeteria showed up in droves to give their names as witnesses, Cadet Second Lieutenant Markov copped a plea.

  He avoided expulsion from the Academy, but he was stripped of his rank and ordered to repeat almost half of his courses, particularly those dealing with Corps discipline and comportment. From then on, no one dared to challenge Sarah’s rapid advancement.

  One evening, a couple of days later, Markov sat in his quarters with three friends. He was still angry about his punishment. “Who does that jumped-up zoner think she is? I would really love to teach her a lesson!”

  “So, why don’t we?” Sergei Petkovic asked. “She needs to learn that if she messes with one of us she’s messing with us all.” Gregor Romanov and Alexie Babinski nodded their agreement.

  Markov brightened up momentarily, and then cooled again. “How?” he asked. “If we get caught we’ll all be expelled.”

  They all considered his question for a moment. Then Romanov spoke up. “She likes to go for a late night run on the track at the old sports complex after studying. My girlfriend Tanya is in the room next to hers. She says she always goes out around 2200 hours and returns, showered, at 2330.”

  “To do that she’d have to be showering in the old sports centre showers. There are no security sensors in that building.” Markov said. “Would your girlfriend give you a heads-up when she goes out tonight?”

  “Guess so,” Romanov shrugged.

  “Good, okay then, here it is. I know that building well. The hallway from the running track to the showers has several corridors running off it. The last corridor to the right, just before the entrance to the female shower room, has an alcove just on the right as you turn into the hallway. That alcove can’t be seen until you have passed it; we can wait for her there. Just remember, leave no marks where they’ll show. There’s no way she’ll admit to being taken by us; not the hunter-girl.”

  Sarah was breathing heavily when she entered the old sports complex that night. The place was no longer used for training by the Cadets, but the student intramural sports teams still practiced there. She liked it because the old showers still used real hot water.

  The corridor seemed to be as deserted, as usual, as she headed for the shower room, anticipating the sensual feeling of the warm water. As far as she knew, she was alone.

  As she passed the hidden alcove Petkovic jumped her from behind, pinning her arms. Romanov butted her in the abdomen with the end of a baseball bat he had taken from the centre’s equipment locker, winding Sarah. Babinski kicked her feet out from under her. Still struggling for breath, Sarah fell to the floor. All three cadets began kicking her in the ribs. Standing to one side, Markov watched as his friends landed kick after kick. Sarah, unable to draw a breath, couldn’t escape.

  Markov stepped up, taking the bat from Romanov. Sarah was now lying prone on the floor. He raised the bat over his head, summoning all his strength. “Here’s one zoner bitch whose gonna be washing out of the Academy permanently.” He announced.

  Just before he struck, Romanov stepped in. “Whoa, man, we said that we give her a major beat down, no one said anything about permanent disability…”

  “This bitch nearly got me tossed,” Markov yelled at him. “This is just payback! This is a lesson that Grissom’s golden girl won’t be able to forget.” He chuckled maliciously, “…and when she washes out, she’ll still get sent to a rehab colony.” Markov laughed insanely.

  The exchange between Markov and Romanov brought a momentary halt to the beating that they were giving Sarah. Lying on the floor she struggled to catch her breath. Each time she tried to draw a breath the pain was agony. She counted on the adrenalin to kick in. It did, just at the last minute.

  Despite the pain it caused, Sarah spun over onto her back and launched a double-foot kick to the groins of Petkovic and Babinski. She shifted her body and drove both feet into Romanov’s groin. She simultaneously winded him and drove him backward into the protruding corner of the alcove. His head struck the corner with a crack and he went down, dazed.

  Markov stepped back as Sarah got to her feet. Every move hurt, but she tried to assume a fighting stance. Markov tightened his grip on the bat. He had only one shot, one chance before Sarah would be in a position to counter-attack. He drew back the bat, aiming for her head. He never completed the swing.

  From the door, an SP shot him with a PPW on maximum stun. The bat fell from his hands as the force from the phased pulse weapon threw him backward. On orders from the Security Patrol agents, Babinski and Petkovic dropped to the floor and lay face down, with their hands on their heads. Romanov, already down, followed suit.

  “Are you ok Cadet Lieutenant?” Th
e lead SP asked Sarah.

  “I’m a bit banged up, but nothing a hot shower shouldn’t be able to fix.” she responded, nodding toward the shower room at the end of the hall.

  The AP nodded. “I’m going to place a guard on the room just in case these four have backup watching.” He nodded to a female agent who approached Sarah. “She’ll keep watch, and then take your statement as she escorts you to the Med Centre.”

  Sarah was about to protest that she had endured worse in the zone, when the SP explained. “We need to get you scanned as evidence of the ferocity of the attack.” Sarah relented and accepted his offer of an escort to get checked out. As he turned away, the lead SP shook his head at the three cadets who were still conscious. “I don’t know how you guys could be so stupid as to think that you could get away with this.”

  “Markov said that there were no sensors in this building, it was too old,” Petkovic said.

  “That’s true, but the old security cameras are still connected.” The SP pointed to two strategically placed 22nd Century video cameras. “…and we do monitor them.”

  It turned out that Sarah’s trip to the Med Centre was a very good idea. A doctor had to apply the bone-knitter to three of Sarah’s ribs and her clavicle, to repair the fractures. The scans also showed several internal bruises that required treatment.

  After pleading guilty to all the charges laid by the Security Patrol agents, Markov’s friends were expelled from the Academy and sentenced to five years in a rehab colony for aggravated assault on an officer. Markov was expelled and convicted of attempted homicide.

  Sarah returned to her assigned program, but was excused from physical training for two weeks while her injuries finished healing. No one else ever tried anything like that again.

  At the beginning of her third year Sarah was promoted to the rank of Cadet Captain. While her independent study program had allowed her to advance with extreme rapidity, there were still courses where she was required to be a part of a class.