Chapter 18: Cadet Olafson

The orange-haired woman took the mirror from her face as I left the Admiral’s office and she leaned forward over her desk. “There’s a washroom right over there,” she offered.

I gave her a thankful smile. After I had freshened up I asked her, “How did you know I needed to go?”

She smiled. “I’m Cheeka and I come from Phantas.” She said that as if it would explain everything.

Her purple eyes sparkled amused and she added. “Phantas is an old Terran colony, much like Nilfeheim and we all have psionic abilities, including telepathy.”

I groaned. “Can everyone do that but me?”

She laughed. “No, Cadet. It really only appears that way to you at the moment. You’ve been accepted to the Academy, and if you graduate successfully you’ll know a whole lot more about psionics and how to defend yourself against it too.”

“That would be a good thing. I still can’t believe I actually got accepted and the whole affair with the Ult was just a staged test.”

She got up and pointed at an elegant looking Serv-matic. “It’s my coffee break time. Would you like some too?”

I nodded. “Yes, I’m actually quite thirsty.”

She was quite attractive to look at. She had a nice body, and she wore a short black skirt that reminded me of Sif’s outfit when I saw her at the spaceport. She also had on transparent, shiny leg covers with a hint of black, encasing her legs. Her blouse was white and void of any rank insignia, but her sizeable breasts underneath made up for the lack of military decoration and were quite effective to catch an eye, at least mine. Her backside reminded me of an apple, like the ones I had seen in the Caves of Muspelheim, and it looked nice and round in that skirt, as she worked on the Serv-matic. I unexpectedly thought about how that skirt would look on me, not that I could hope for a behind like that. I had to be careful about my secret, especially here where everyone could see what I was thinking and I tried to suppress it.

She turned and handed me a cup. “These are called stockings.” She slid a hand over her knee and said, “Yet another fashion from Terra and they’re fashionable again.” Then she said, “I’m glad you like what you see.”

The door opened and the silver-haired woman came out of the Admiral’s office. “Cadet Olafson, what are you still doing here. I thought you were already processed.”

The orange-haired woman said, “General, I offered the cadet a cup of coffee. It wasn’t his fault.”

The silver-haired woman who had the rank of a General was beautiful. Quite different from the girlish secretary, in an angelic, not-quite-Human way. She smiled and this time it reached her large purple eyes. “Carry on then. Finish your coffee and do have a few of the cookies Cheeka was about to offer you. She makes them herself and they’re quite legendary in the Academy Administration. After that I suggest you don’t delay your processing for too long.” Then she shook her head and said, “Barely a day in the navy and already flirting with the civilian personnel. Mr. Olafson I think you have indeed found your calling.”

The secretary waited till the woman had disappeared in one of the IBTs and said, “That was General Alyica Lichfangh. She’s the commanding officer of the Psi Corps, and it’s said that she’s the most powerful psionically talented person in the galaxy. Rumors also have it that she and the Immortal Warrior are dating.”

I sighed. “I just realized just how much I really have to learn.” Then I drained the cup in one gulp and put the cup down. “Thanks for the coffee. I better go.”

“You’re welcome Cadet Olafson. I’m known around here as Cheeka. I don’t have a military rank; I’m just the big guy’s executive assistant. Maybe when you come back from basic we can have a cup of coffee again and talk about stockings or other things.”

I smiled. “That would be nice indeed.”

Cheeka pointed at the IBT. “Tell the IBT to drop you off at the Quartermaster’s Processing Office, level 6. I’ll make sure they have your paper work.”

I thanked her, waved once more and told the inter-base transport to drop me of at said location. There, in a curving corridor, stood another long line of orange-dressed applicants. A bright yellow-skinned being that reminded me of a bird crossed with a lemon and no taller than maybe 40 cm. jumped before me, wearing a black uniform and, with a high pitched voice, said, “Cadet Olafson. I just received instructions to place you in line 4B.” The yellow being hovered before me and motioned me to take a spot between two other applicants.

I wondered how Derek and Mix fared and how far they had come in this process. I wanted to tell them about the Ult who was actually the Commandant. But the chances they were here in the same line were slim. This was like a factory, processing thousands upon thousands of applicants. That was the closest concept I could think of to describe this orchestrated, but well-organized madness.

A humanoid being wearing a completely enclosed orange jumpsuit stood before me. His suit had an attached hood that was drawn closely around his head and as he turned there was a mirrored face plate before his actual face. While others had their names stencilled across the chest, he only had a number, 3452-991.

I asked, “May I ask why you got a number instead of a name?”

Its voice came from a speaker unit in his shoulder and it sounded exactly like the artificially generated female voice every standard computronic had. “I don’t mind. I’m a non-Corp. We didn’t develop the same way as corporeal beings. We had no need for names before we were discovered and became a member species. We recognize and address each other in a different way. However when interacting with other Union species outside our natural environment it’s helpful to have an individual designation, and this number comes close to what we see when we identify one of us.”

I wished I could have talked to the non-Corp a little more but the line was moving quite rapidly and we had reached a door where two officers, one Human and one insectoid Klack split us up. To the non-Corps the Human officer said, “Non-Corp cadet to the right and through that corridor.” The insectoid then addressed me. “Human cadet, you go left.”

It turned out to be a slide belt that conveyed me directly into a large autodresser unit and I emerged on the other side moments later wearing an actual uniform. It was deep green and completely void of rank insignia, but on the sleeve was the Union Flag. I didn’t know if it was the same or a different Klack who greeted me at the other side. “Welcome Cadet Olafson. You now have been officially accepted and processed. Please don’t ask any questions at this point as there’s no time. Follow the others to the next station where you’ll receive your ribbon display, your Military ID imprint and your Code Key surgery.”

I really wanted to ask what a Code Key surgery entailed, as I didn’t like the idea of surgeries and doctors all that much, but the Klack ignored me and addressed the next person behind me in the exact same manner.

The next room had two long counters on each side. Robots and beings behind the counter handed out large bags. A sign flashed with my name and guided me to a spot at the left counter. A bearded man chewing on something said, “Cadet Olafson?”

“Yes Sir.”

A robot next to him snarled, “Identity verified. Race specifications and measurement scan complete. Basic gear assembled and ready.”

The man pointed at a large E-pad screen installed into the counter. “Sign your name here. With your signature you verify you have received all your basic gear, complete and in good condition.”

“Shouldn’t I check it first before I sign it?”

“Yes, regulations actually require that you take the printout and check every item, but your gear has been assembled by robots.” He sighed. “We usually skip this part since it would slow things down even further!”

“I sure don’t want that!” I said, and signed it.

After this a Saran officer supervising a machine attached a blank flex screen to our uniform. The man explained, “This is your ribbon display. It will show all your military specializations and qualifications and any citations you earn. Yours will most likely remain pretty empty until you graduate, but it’s required to be worn on all uniforms. It’s linked to you and can’t be given to another person or altered in any way or form. Trying to do so is is a serious offense.”

He tapped the display with his finger and the thing made a chirping sound. He looked at it and grinned. “Wow, it looks like you’ve actually got a few citations: Honorary Citizen of Twilight, Civil Duty service ribbon and Executioners Axe.” He grinned. “Nice to see the ribbon display actually works.” He waved me on and said, “Next!”

Code Key surgery was performed by a device that used nanite-assisted robot surgery to make a little skin pocket somewhere on the body. Its location, as I was told, was chosen randomly, so it wouldn’t be always at the same place. During the procedure a voice explained, “All officers of all branches of the United Stars services receive a Code Key pocket. It’s a small, 2x1 cm. cavity, a few millimeters deep. A bio-plastic key made of the same cell material as the body will be placed in it. No normal scan will reveal it. It’s used as an extra security measure to access restricted areas or information. You and all cadets accepted have security clearance Blue. That’s the lowest security clearance and sufficient for all Academy tasks and procedures. How, when and why you need that key will be explained to you in the appropriate training class.”

The procedure itself was painless and my code key pocket was in my left underarm.

Along with others, I entered an immense mess hall. I guessed at least 500 beings were sitting or in the process of sitting at long rows of tables.

I didn’t see Derek or Max, but I saw the methane breather and it waved at me with one of its tentacles. “Over here, Eric Human.”

I took the free seat next to him and the Garbini said, “I never thought we’d finally end up here. I felt like a product in a factory.”

“I know, I feel the same way. Seeing the scope of things I started to realize just how big an organization Space Fleet actually is.”

“Now that you say it. I heard there are fifty mess halls like this one right here, and this isn’t the only Academy branch in the galaxy. There are many more!”

I remembered Mix telling me the ones on Andromeda side were at capacity.

The tables were set with fine china and glasses.

After about an hour every seat was occupied. An officer in a black uniform, somewhat humanoid, but with horns and a face that made him look like a ram, addressed us all while standing on a floating metal disc so everyone could see him. I was sure his voice was transmitted to field speakers nearby as he didn’t talk loudly but I could clearly hear him. “This will be your first real meal as cadets. It will also be your first lesson.

“An officer of the United Stars Fleet will always display the finest table manners. We’ll use napkins and eating utensils whenever possible. We’ll learn to use the eating utensils of other cultures but the Fleet recognizes sticks, fork, knife and spoon as basic and usable by almost all member species.

“Enlisted men may eat a sandwich while walking through a corridor, an officer may not. An enlisted man may yawn, scratch himself or do other little things beings do without really thinking, often insulting or revolting to others. Officers will not do that. It takes great and seemingly impossible self-awareness and control to suppress these instinctive habits, but those of you who complete this training will control them and it will become second nature.”

His platform slowly rotated and now I was facing his back. The officer was still speaking. “However, as officers you also have certain privileges. You won’t stand in line for food at the chow line, like enlisted personnel do. You’ll be served whenever possible, unless the meal is buffet style. The food will be served now, but don’t eat until I say so. Until the most senior officer is served and has given the toast, you will not touch the food.”

He clapped his gloved hands together and an army of white-dressed beings started to serve plates with food.

The officer raised a glass. “Welcome citizens of the Union and welcome new cadets, this is the first meal you are partaking in the company of fellow officers and I sincerely hope it won’t be the last. May the day come that you remember this first meal as a special occasion and an important event in your life. I wish all of you success and hope to see each of you one day in Fleet black!”

He raised the glass he was holding. “On the behalf of the United Stars of the Galaxies and in the name of the Admiral of the Fleet I welcome you all. Now enjoy your meal.”

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