Cadet Dorms, Mare Nubium Academy, Luna, Sol; 07.04.2547
The alarm would simply not shut up. Rebecca swore loudly at it, but - to her frustration - it didn't seem overly concerned with her displeasure. It continued its incessant beeping as she struggled into her jacket, buttoning it up over the front of her jumpsuit before finally managing to get a hand free to silence the alarm. Finally free to take a breath, she took a moment to check her appearance in the mirror.
Red hair pulled back in a short ponytail, green eyes - her mother had always said she had her eyes - above the Academy uniform of white jacket over black jumpsuit. She smoothed out a crease in the jacket before turning to the door - the alarm may have had a point. Graduation was the one thing she couldn't afford to be late for.
Outside, she slipped into the flow of identically attired students, all headed for the main hall. She would have loved an hour or so to slip away into the library, but that was the price she paid for staying up late the night before in that same room.
"Oy, Becks!" came an all too familiar voice over the background murmur of chattering students. Out of the press emerged it's owner - Ken Fraser, a fellow graduating cadet, and the closest friend she had on Luna. He'd tried to hit on her in the first week, she'd turned him down gently, but they'd formed a lasting friendship out of the whole affair. He was the only reason she'd passed the Tactical Operations module in their third year, whilst her tutoring had carried him through their Languages classes.
"Hey, Ken. You find time to finish that extra credit module in the end?"
"Nah, but it's good. We've both got easily enough out the way to be sure we'll get first pick at where we want to go. You're shooting for Navy, right?"
"That's the plan, at least. You come down either way?"
"Marines, I'm thinking. Plenty of aliens gonna need shooting whilst you swan about in your spaceships, right?"
She couldn't help but laugh at his cavalier humour as they entered the main assembly hall, saying their farewells before splitting up to find their assigned places. Once her friend was gone, though, a feeling of anticipation began to settle in. This was it! She'd finally be going out into space, like she'd dreamed since she was little and her father had shown her a telescope. Just a shame there was a war on, really…
No one knew why the Covenant, an alliance of advanced alien races, had swept into human space, burning worlds as they came. Earlier concerns - the Insurrection, for one, they'd had to study that - were left by the wayside as the human race came together, united as one to face the alien menace. As far as she'd been able to piece together from the news reports, it sounded like the fighting had stopped in the Outer Colonies - which was either very good, or very bad. As a soon-to-be newly minted officer in the UNSC Navy, she wholeheartedly hoped for the former.
Admiral Stafford Weaver, the Academy's Principal, stepped up onto the stage, taking the podium. She'd interacted with him a few times - mostly when called to his office on mild misdemeanours like punctuality - and quite liked the older man. He'd always made an effort to treat his students like mature adults rather than the teenagers many of them were when they arrived. Weaver cleared his throat, calling for attention as the room slowly fell silent. "Cadets. First of all, congratulations on completing your four years here at Mare Nubium. As you are no doubt aware, this Academy is the oldest OCS in the Sol System, and indeed in settled human space. Graduates from this school carry with them a centuries old tradition of skill and valour, and the accumulated honour of every class that came before them. I can say with confidence, however, that this class of 2547 will carry that burden proudly and well! You are all fine examples of the kind of men and women the UNSC needs in these trying times. So well done, all of you. I'm sure you'll excel in whichever service you choose to enter. Thank you." Enthusiastic applause filled the room as he stepped back from the podium, as another officer stepped forward with a tablet. "Cadets will step forward when their name is called to receive their diploma, and enter their first choice of service. Cadet al-Bahr, V, graduate second class…"
She tuned out the flow of names, half listening for her own or those of a Cadet she recognised. Fraser made eye contact with her as he accepted his certificate, dropping her a wink that made her smile, before turning back to the officer with the tablet to presumably enter his choice for the UNSC Marine Corps. Exchanging smiles with a few others she recognised, her mind raced at the prospect of finally getting into space, causing her to almost miss her own name and the additional surprise that followed it. "Cadet Selby, R, graduate with honors, special award for Linguistics." A smattering of polite applause - and one highly inappropriate whoop from Fraser, off to one side - accompanied her shock at being one of the highest scoring students in the class as she made her way up onto the stage. She knew she'd done well, but hadn't remotely expected to have done that well. Admiral Weaver himself stepped up to present her award, shaking her hand as he did so. "Congratulations, Cadet Selby. You've done yourself and this Academy proud." Almost speechless, she managed to form a response in good time. "Ah… thank you, sir." He smiled at her - the first time she'd seen him do so - and stepped back as she went to lodge her preference, barely hesitating before selecting the UNSC Navy, and heading to join the rest of the graduates.
"Come on, Becks, everyone's gotta let loose at some point. Even you, Ms. Special Award for Linguistic-"
"Oh, shut up, Ken, will you?" Despite the words, there was no venom in the rebuke. She was still a little shocked as they sat in a bar in Asimov Center, the civilian city that the Academy was connected to, looking out over the lunar surface. A few dozen of their fellow graduates occupied tables around them - they'd all been given twelve hours leave before being ordered to report back for their first assignments.
"What? Not everyone gets these Special Awards, you know? We can't be all high an-"
"Look, if I get the next round, will you shut up?"
Fraser immediately stopped talking, and mimed zipping across his mouth.
"Alright, fine. Same again?" Receiving a nod, she stood up and walked over to the bar and ordered another two beers. Whilst the bartender worked, a man stepped up next to her.
"Ensign Selby?" She blinked, still not quite used to her new rank, or being addressed by strangers. "Uh… yes. Sorry, do I know you?" She gave him a quick once over. Olive skin, shaved head, and oddly grey, expressionless eyes. "I'm afraid not. My name, however, is Commander Martel."
"Oh, sorry, sir. Is there something I can do for you?" He smiled, a smile that contained very little warmth at all. "Perhaps. I'm told you've applied for a posting in the Navy. Is that correct?"
She frowned, but replied in the positive. "I'm here to ask if I could persuade you to consider a different career path."
"And which would that be?"
He smiled again. "You're an intelligent woman, you tell me."
She stopped, considering. There were no insignia on his uniform, nothing to suggest which service branch he was in. But it was a naval style uniform, and there was something about his bearing that just set her on edge. He couldn't be…
"You're ONI." The smile grew wider.
"Am I? What an interesting conclusion. The fact that your skillset is exactly what ONI looks for in new officers is, of course, a complete coincidence to my being here. Say I were, though… would you want to be?"
"I don't think I'd be very good at it, to be honest. I'm terrible at keeping secrets."
"It's an acquired skill."
"Even so… I really don't think it would be my sort of work. I'm sorry, Commander, but I must decline."
The smile remained as Martel spoke. "A shame. Take this, anyway, should you reconsider." He slipped a small card along the bar, blank except for a COM address. "A pleasure meeting you, Ensign Selby. I hope to repeat it some day." He turned from the bar, and headed straight for the exit, just as the bartender returned with her drinks.
As she sat back down at the table, Fraser looked over at her. "You making new friends, Becks?"
"No, I… I'm not sure what that was."
Fraser frowned. "Well, what did he want?"
"I'm fairly sure I just got scouted by ONI. I turned him down, but…"
"You did what? How come? ONI's a dream assignment for most people!" Fraser's voice rose a notch, drawing a few eyes from nearby tables as she waved him quieter.
"Not so loud! And yeah, I did. I'm not cut out for all that cloak-and-dagger stuff, Ken. It's not all,.you know that."
"I guess so." His usual grin returned. "You remember that time with Gibbs? Oh man…
A few drinks, and a short nap later, Rebecca reentered the Academy main hall, where the podium on stage had been replaced by a number of digital boards, displaying each graduate's name and new assignment. She scanned past the names of the people she'd spent the last four years around, searching for her own. When she found it, she gave out a quiet whoop.
"Ensign Selby, Rebecca: Communications Officer, UNSC Shattered by Fate"
Communications Officer on her first assignment was more than she'd dared hope for. A bridge posting! She'd be able to see the stars up close and personal. She backed away and sat in a corner of the room, pulling out her COMpad and quickly trying to search up any information she could on her new assignment. Shattered by Fate was apparently a newly commissioned Stalwart-class Light Frigate, but details were few and far between. Understandably, she supposed.
Her frantic research was interrupted by a light punch to her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Fraser grinning down at her. "So? What did you get?"
"Communications Officer! A frigate, Shattered by Fate, she's called. I'm gonna be on the Bridge, Ken!"
His grin grew even wider as he pulled her to her feet. "Hey, that's great, Becks! Guess they must be real desperate if they're putting someone like you on the bridge of a frigate, eh?"
She punched his shoulder back. "Jerk."
"Oh, it gets better. Guess what I got?"
"Marines, right? They're definitely going to want you there or the Army."
"Marines, yeah. 2nd Platoon, D Company, 2nd Battalion, 177th Marine Regiment."
"That's grea-"
"Presently assigned to… UNSC Shattered by Fate."
She stopped.
"No way."
A message from the author: Hello, all; I hope you've enjoyed reading what is hopefully the first of many chapters. I'd really appreciate all the reviews I can get, as I've never published anything like this publicly apart from a few long-form forum roleplays, so hopefully any constructive criticism can be worked on and improved for the future. I'll try to keep at least once a week uploads, but life always finds a way to mess us around, so we'll see.
Thank you for reading!