★ Sandi ★

  Sandi sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs outside the Chief Commander’s office, waiting.

  His seat was directly across from the assistant’s desk, and the only light source in the room was the screen that lit the man’s gloomy face as he worked.

  “It’s like a tomb in here,” Sandi said, breaking the cavernous silence. “Why are all the lights off?”

  “Because of the Chief Commander’s headaches,” the assistant answered without so much as looking at him. “Whenever he feels a migraine coming on, he asks me to turn the lights down so he can get his work done.”

  “If he’s got a migraine, why is he still working?”

  The assistant shot him a withering look, then returned to his screen.

  “It’s almost 21:00,” Sandi continued. “He shouldn’t be working this late at all, much less in that state.”

  “Well, he does—constantly. And on that note, I should issue an obligatory apology for the lateness of this meeting. It was the only time slot he had available.”

  “He’s busy. I get it.”

  “Do you, though?” The assistant smirked. “I hope you’re not here to bother him with trivial nonsense. We don’t see many cadets up here because they usually know better than to harass the Council with trifling matters.”

  “No, it’s not a trifling matter.” Sandi sighed. “My week would’ve been miles better if trifling things were all I’d had to worry about.”

  The assistant gave him a patronizing look. “For your sake, I hope you’re right.”

  Sandi felt a hot, familiar sense of rage creeping up the back of his neck. Normally he’d try to push it down, but tonight he was in no state of mind to suppress his temper.

  “I am right, thank you very much.”

  The assistant didn’t even bother prying his eyes away from the screen. “I’m sure you feel that way, but I’ve got my doubts. You’re only seventeen. Just wait until you get to be my age, then you’ll find out what real problems are.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-nine.”

  “Proper Father Time, that,” Sandi murmured to himself. He thought he’d spoken quietly enough, but the assistant scowled again.

  “My God, these cadets are getting worse. It’s something in the water down there, I swear. If it’s not Howard losing his mind at me in here, it’s one of you pretentious little upstarts. I might as well be centuries old for all I’ve put up with in this office, and how much it’s aging me. But in the meantime, you would do well to address me with the proper form of respect.”

  “Is that so?” Sandi asked. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to address you, but I don’t see a rank on that uniform of yours. There’s nothing on it but your name, which I can’t read because it’s in Russian. Are you a contractor?”

  “What I am is none of your business. And there are several official languages here, so if you can’t read one of them, it would be due to your own cultural inadequacies, not mine.” He smirked again. “And I’ll have you know that’s Ukrainian, not Russian.”

  “They look the bloody same.”

  He got another scowl in reply. “Well, they’re not. They’re two very different things. And I should also mention that with a mouth like that on you, you’ve got all the makings of an officer. You’ll fit right in at the Academy, much to your delight.”

  Before either of them could speak further, they were interrupted by a voice from the far side of the room.

  “Alright, Victor, that’s enough.”

  They both turned toward the sound, and Sandi saw the Chief Commander leaning against the doorframe next to his office with his hands buried in his pockets.

  His appearance reflected every bit of discomfort he felt from that migraine. His eyes were puffy and swollen, and his hair, which was heavily streaked with gray, was a tousled mess. His uniform was in a similarly disheveled state—he wasn’t wearing his jacket, and the white button-down shirt was a mess of wrinkles, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was also thirty-nine, Sandi remembered, but unlike his salty assistant, he looked as if the cares of the world had actually taken their toll.

  “Good evening, Sir.“ Sandi rose from his seat abruptly and stood at attention.

  The Chief Commander nodded in his direction. “At ease, Cadet.” Despite his appearance, his voice was steady and his demeanor was calm. Nobody was meant to see him in this state, Sandi guessed, much less a student, and he felt a pang of guilt for insisting on the soonest possible meeting.

  He returned a polite nod, but it was clear that none of them wanted to be here tonight, and even respectful formality felt out of place. He hadn’t minded casting it aside when it was just him and the assistant, but the Chief Commander was a different matter entirely, and he began to wonder if his concerns might be more trivial than he’d thought.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Sir, and on such short notice, at that.” The words sounded inauthentic even to his own ears, and he shifted uncomfortably.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Harlow didn't seem to mind. “I’ve always got time for cadets.” He nodded toward his office. “Now, come on.”

  He retreated through the door, and Sandi followed, taking a seat at one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  “Alright, your name is… Sandipan Patel?” Harlow asked as he sat down across from him. “Correct me if I’ve pronounced that wrong.”

  “No Sir, you’ve got it right, but everyone just calls me Sandi.”

  “Sandi—I remember now. You were here last week, weren’t you?”

  “Yes Sir, I was, with the group from the Academy.”

  “Well, welcome back.” Harlow smiled. “I promise I won’t mistake you for one of our generals and start shouting obscenities this time. Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, Sir, that’s why I’m here. It’s about General Howard’s class.”

  Harlow sighed, and his smile evaporated. “What did he do?”

  Sandi took a deep breath. “I won’t repeat what was said, but he made some very—how to put it—offensive remarks. He took issue with the fact that I’d lived in one of the Mars colonies and told me to leave his classroom, and I fear I won’t be allowed back. I would’ve ordinarily reported this to someone at the Academy rather than taking up your time, but he’s the Chancellor, and I’m not sure where else to go.”

  Harlow leaned forward, rested his elbows on the desk, and began massaging his temples. “You’re the fifth cadet in six months who’s come to my office for the express purpose of filing a formal complaint against General Howard.”

  “And I’m guessing they were all here for similar reasons?”

  “It’s becoming an established pattern.”

  “Pardon my bluntness, Sir, but that’s a nice way of putting it.” Sandi sighed. “If I thought I’d done something wrong I wouldn’t be sitting here, but as far as I can tell, there’s no policy against having participated in a colonist training program. I even double checked the rulebook.”

  “It’s not against the rules. Howard’s actions were entirely out of line.” Harlow drew a deep breath. “I apologize for the General’s behavior. This matter will be addressed.”

  “Thank you, Sir, but I have to ask—then what? Am I supposed to go back to his class as if nothing’s happened? Because I’m prepared to work hard and prove myself, but I refuse to endure that kind of treatment. I won’t do it.”

  “If you don’t feel comfortable in the classroom, we can find an alternate way for you to pass the course. Maybe a work-study program where you prepare for tests with a tutor and do assignments in the library for your attendance credits.”

  “Work-study? What sort of work would I be doing?”

  Harlow shrugged. “There’s plenty to be done. We always need teaching assistants, or someone to fill labor roles.”

  “Labor? As in janitorial work?”

  “Something. We’ll find something for you.”

  “I didn’t get to the top five percent of my class to become a janitor, Sir. I mean no disrespect to the cleaning staff, but I’ve worked very hard to get to where I am.”

  “We’ll come up with a resolution. I know you’re upset, and rightly so—”

  “I am, Sir,” Sandi said, trying to keep his voice steady as he recalled the words he’d rehearsed earlier. “I’ve been told I can’t attend class because the Chancellor thinks people with my background have no place here, and now you’re offering me unpaid janitorial labor as a solution. I worked hard to get here, and now I’m being denied an education. I used to respect the Corps, but I’ll drop out if this is setting the tone for the next five years. I’ll leave with a dishonorable discharge if I have to.”

  He paused and caught his breath, fearing he hadn’t sounded half as confident as he hoped. He waited for a reply, but Harlow simply leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling,.

  “Sandi,” he finally said, leaning forward again and clasping his hands together on the desk in front of him. “Look at me.”

  Sandi did.

  “I promise I’ll make this right. General Howard’s actions are an embarrassment, and they reflect very poorly on both the Academy and the Space Corps as a whole. There’s a place for you here, I assure you, and I’ll personally make an exception for you to pass this class if I have to.”

  Sandi breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You’re welcome, but I’ve got another question.”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you display the same level of disrespect toward General Howard as you did to my assistant out there?”

  Sandi was silent.

  “The reason I ask,” Harlow continued, “is because this matter is going to be thoroughly investigated, and I want to make sure I’m getting the whole story. If there’s something you haven’t told me, it’s best to do it now, rather than letting me finding out later from someone else. I’m always inclined to give cadets the benefit of the doubt, but I need to make sure Howard’s statements were truly unwarranted.”

  “I may have reacted poorly, Sir,” Sandi said quietly.

  “Well, I appreciate your honesty, and I find your use of the word ‘reacted’ interesting. Who provoked this incident?”

  “He did.”

  Harlow stared at him intently from across the desk, as if searching for lies.

  “I promise, it's the truth,” Sandi said. “I was sitting in that classroom being quiet and respectful until he singled me out.”

  “And if I reviewed the security footage, would it back up your assertion?”

  “Yes Sir, it would.”

  “Good, because I’ll be doing that.” Harlow leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Enacting disciplinary measures against a general—or anyone, for that matter—isn't something I take lightly. I expect such foolishness from cadets every now and then, but Howard’s four times your age, and he’s got no excuse.” He paused for a moment, then looked away. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he finally said. “I want you to return to the dorms tonight. Ask Victor for a hall pass on your way out, and do it in a polite manner this time. Get some sleep, focus on your studies, and stay out of trouble. And as for me, I’ll uphold my end of the bargain. General Howard will be dealt with, and I’ll make sure this never happens again—to you or anyone else.”

  Sandi nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, I’m drawing this meeting to a close because I’ve got a mountain of paperwork ahead of me tonight. You’re dismissed, and thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.”

  "Absolutely, Sir," Sandi replied. Then he took a deep breath, stood up, and turned to leave.

  ? ? ? ? ?

  The Chief Commander remained stationary long after he’d gone, staring straight ahead as if lost deep in thought. Several minutes went by, and he barely moved. But then, abruptly, he slammed his hand down on the desk.

  “That’s it,” he said. “I’ve had enough. The General will be dealt with right now.”

  He stood, crossed the room in a few quick, furious strides, and snatched his coat from where it hung beside the door as he entered the foyer.

  “It’s awfully early for you to be leaving,” Victor said.

  “There’s a matter that’s come to my attention,” Harlow replied as he shrugged on his jacket. “I’ll be needing these.” He reached down and grabbed a bottle of pills from the desk.

  “Your headache medication?” Victor said. “You’ve had more than enough of that today. If you build up too much of a tolerance, where would that leave you? Curled up vomiting on the floor, that’s where.”

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Harlow said, stashing the pills in his pocket. “I need to be at my best tonight, because it looks like I’ll be attending that party after all.”