***
"Congratulations, Alex."
Alex nodded numbly as he was handed his certificate of completion for going through six years in the school, he was now fully prepared to enter the Academy; all memories of his lost parents had long since been erased, and it was as if he didn't have a life before the age of ten. Now he was sixteen, nearly 5"11 and broader than most of the instructors, with muscular arms, wide chest and back.
"Thank you, Sergeant." He raised his hand in salute, his eyes not meeting Davis', but staring off to the wall behind him.
"I assume you'll be going onto the Academy?"
"That is correct, Sergeant."
"Very good." Davis nodded. "You'll make a fine officer someday. Just like your father."
Alex swallowed and gritted his teeth together; why, he wondered, did his father have to come up whenever they spoke of his career? He shook his head as Davis turned and walked away to join the other higher ranking men, leaving Alex standing in the middle of the room; he watched as parents came up to their sons and daughters, congratulating them on their graduation.
"Alex Collins???"
He turned quickly to see Admiral Kendall staring at him, his face betraying his surprise. 'As if I wouldn't change at all in six years,' Alex thought dryly, stepping forward and saluting him. Kendall quickly returned it, his face softening with a kind smile as he placed his hand on Alex's shoulder, not noticing how the younger man stiffened under his touch.
"You look well," Kendall said, "much like your father."
Again. His father.
"And I hear you're going onto the Academy."
"Of course."
"Good, good." Kendall nodded. "Do you like Time Force? It's quite an experience. I always loved it."
Alex inwardly rolled his eyes. "Whether I like it or not isn't important," he replied, "Time Force is, in my opinion, the only option for me."
Kendall's brow crinkled, then added: "Well, Lucas is going to miss you. You'll already have graduated by the time he reaches the Academy."
Alex nodded slightly. "He'll turn out to be a good officer," he said confidently, "tell him I said 'good-bye', the next time you see him." He snapped to attention, then turned on his heel and walked down the hall to his quarters to pack his things; a few civilian clothes, just a couple T- shirts and a few pairs of old jeans, he was rarely out of uniform.
He knelt on the hard floor and reached under his bed to pull out the little box he'd kept since his parents died, holding back a sigh, he unlocked it and looked inside: On top was the picture of his parents, then one of him with them right before he turned nine. Below them was a plastic bag holding his father's medals, then another bag with his mother's; he reached inside and retrieved a small badge, smiling.
Rewarded to
GEN. ANDREW T. COLLINS
For Honorable Service In the Field of Battle
"Dad . . . " the word was uttered for the first time in six years, sounding strange to his ears and feeling so on his lips. So many days, weeks, months had passed since he lost them both; had it only been six years? Had it been that long? Had he ever had parents? At times, he felt like a different life, like something he read about in a book years ago.
He quickly tucked his personal belongings away and the locked the small wood box, closing the lid and noting the initials engraved on top; the box belonged to one of his ancient ancestor, and had been carefully preserved--- as well as redone---over the years. The initals were W.C., his great- grandfather many times removed, back to the 21st Century.
"Time to go, Alex," he murmured.
He grabbed his new jacket from the bed and shouldered into it, smiling as he zipped it up and looked down at the rank: Ensign. Instead of entering the Academy as a cadet, he was promoted to ensign because of his years in the school; a definite advantage over the others in the Academy when they eventually graduated. Everyone claimed he would rise in rank quickly once he graduated, probably becoming at least a lieutenant by twenty-one.
He was starting a new phase in his career, a more intense period of training in which he would learn not only just how to shoot----but how to kill. A barely 16-year-old boy entering a new life . . . in the Time Force Academy.
***
Alex stepped inside onto the cold, marble floor and made his way to the front desk, his boots clomping on the floor loudly. People looked up from their seats, from reading the newspaper, to stare at him as he casually--- yet confidently---walked across the floor without so much as a glance in either direction.
"My name is Collins, A.," he stated at the desk.
"Alexander?"
"Yes."
The ensign seated behind the desk glared at him briefly, for no apparent reason before typing his name down, saying in an uninterested tone: "You're a cadet here, Collins?"
"No. An ensign." Alex glared right back at her. "I was sent over by the TFBS."
"Have you been cleared?" the ensign demanded, "there is a required amount of time you must serve in the school, as well as physical standards---"
"I was at the school for almost six years," Alex said quickly, impatiently. "I scored a one hundred on the final PT Test---" he raised an eyebrow "--- the required score is seventy-five. Now where are my quarters located?"
"Floor Three, Room Twenty-Five."
"Thank you."
He walked by the desk and down the hall, feeling the eyes of the people around him bearing into his back critically; he finally reached the third floor and found his room, surprised to find three others already inside. They stared at him in silence, and he was forced to be the one to speak first:
"Is this your room?"
"Mine," the young man stood up and extended his hand. "Name's Bobby Watkins. You're a newbie, huh?"
"Only to the Academy." Alex placed his bag on an empty cot, saying absently: "Alex Collins."
One of the females sat up straight, her black hair bouncing on her shoulders, she gasped in a light voice: "Alex!?" He turned quickly to see who was speaking, but he didn't recognize the beautiful, young woman staring at him with recognition flickering in her midnight blue eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I have no idea who you are."
"It's me . . . Sienna!"
Sienna Jacobson, from his old school, before his parents died; the young girl that followed him everywhere in her rather pathetic attempt to get him to like her more than just a friend. But she had been a skinny 10-year-old back then, and now she was all grown up . . . he couldn't even blame himself for not recognizing her.
"You've changed," he noted.
"Well, I grew a little." She giggled, batting her long eyelashes as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, he pushed her gently---but firmly. "Don't you like hugs anymore?" She pouted playfully.
"I never did, remember?" But years of military training hadn't helped at all. "Did you join Time Force?" his voice was incredulous.
"As a matter of fact . . . yes!" Sienna cried, "can you believe it?"
"Not really."
"So, where've you been? I haven't seen you in years!"
Alex nodded, sitting down. "I haven't been around in years," he said, "I was sent to a Time Force school after my father died, that's where I've been all this time."
Sienna blinked rapidly, her smile fading quickly and her face becoming solemn as she opened her mouth to speak again, in a quieter voice: "I-I'm sorry, Alex. I never knew about your father." He looked at her briefly, then turned to the other girl, who hadn't spoken once; finally, she introduced herself.
"Dana Shoeman."
"You and Watkins have been here for years?" Alex assumed, judging from the man's first words.
"We're graduating this year," Dana answered.
Bobby and Dana glanced at each other, suddenly seemingly quite awed by Alex's presence, undoubtedly aware of his parents reputations. He frowned outwardly, but felt even worse inwardly; Dana stood and smiled, saying: "Well, we're all headed out for dinner. Wanna come?"
"No," Alex replied, "I have a lot of papers to sign." He smiled slightly. "Thank you anyway."
"Some other time," Dana said cheerfully.
"All right."
A few minutes later, he reported to the head of the Academy, who handed him a stack of papers to read through and sign, a long and tedious process that was bound to take all night. Any other recruit would moan and groan about it the entire time, but when Bobby returned around midnight he found Alex working silently.
"I'm so happy I'm done with all that," he laughed.
Alex glanced up, smirking a little, his face softening from his usual hard mask; Bobby leaned over and nodded. "You've got a good four hours left," he pointed out.
"Three."
"How long have you been working?" Bobby asked, noticing the stack of papers already signed.
"Three and a half hours."
"That's it???" Bobby blinked. "You're fast! Well, try to get some sleep if you can, you'll have a busy day tomorrow. A lot of PT, they like to torture the newbies." With a sly smile, he lay down and fell asleep as Alex continued to work.
*****
Sgt. Daniel McGraw watched as the young Collins boy raced around the track for the eight time, marking the second mile he had run, he glanced at his watch and nodded with satisfaction; Alex ran by and started to slow down, looking back expectantly for his time.
"Very good, Ensign Collins," McGraw said, "ten minutes flat."
Alex nodded, breathing heavily, his face flushed red; he leaned against the fence as Bobby walked over, clapping. "That was a great run, Collins," he said, "broke my record."
"And what was that?"
"Twelve minutes."
Alex chuckled under his breath, nodding his thanks as one of the instructors handed him a cup of water; he hadn't run two miles in twelve minutes since before he was a pre-teen. He sipped the cold water, releshing the feel of the liquid running down his throat; he could have easily gone on at the same pace for at least another three miles, but that didn't mean he wasn't exhausted.
"Well," he said, "we have push-ups next, see you tonight."
"Yeah, good luck."
TBC
"Congratulations, Alex."
Alex nodded numbly as he was handed his certificate of completion for going through six years in the school, he was now fully prepared to enter the Academy; all memories of his lost parents had long since been erased, and it was as if he didn't have a life before the age of ten. Now he was sixteen, nearly 5"11 and broader than most of the instructors, with muscular arms, wide chest and back.
"Thank you, Sergeant." He raised his hand in salute, his eyes not meeting Davis', but staring off to the wall behind him.
"I assume you'll be going onto the Academy?"
"That is correct, Sergeant."
"Very good." Davis nodded. "You'll make a fine officer someday. Just like your father."
Alex swallowed and gritted his teeth together; why, he wondered, did his father have to come up whenever they spoke of his career? He shook his head as Davis turned and walked away to join the other higher ranking men, leaving Alex standing in the middle of the room; he watched as parents came up to their sons and daughters, congratulating them on their graduation.
"Alex Collins???"
He turned quickly to see Admiral Kendall staring at him, his face betraying his surprise. 'As if I wouldn't change at all in six years,' Alex thought dryly, stepping forward and saluting him. Kendall quickly returned it, his face softening with a kind smile as he placed his hand on Alex's shoulder, not noticing how the younger man stiffened under his touch.
"You look well," Kendall said, "much like your father."
Again. His father.
"And I hear you're going onto the Academy."
"Of course."
"Good, good." Kendall nodded. "Do you like Time Force? It's quite an experience. I always loved it."
Alex inwardly rolled his eyes. "Whether I like it or not isn't important," he replied, "Time Force is, in my opinion, the only option for me."
Kendall's brow crinkled, then added: "Well, Lucas is going to miss you. You'll already have graduated by the time he reaches the Academy."
Alex nodded slightly. "He'll turn out to be a good officer," he said confidently, "tell him I said 'good-bye', the next time you see him." He snapped to attention, then turned on his heel and walked down the hall to his quarters to pack his things; a few civilian clothes, just a couple T- shirts and a few pairs of old jeans, he was rarely out of uniform.
He knelt on the hard floor and reached under his bed to pull out the little box he'd kept since his parents died, holding back a sigh, he unlocked it and looked inside: On top was the picture of his parents, then one of him with them right before he turned nine. Below them was a plastic bag holding his father's medals, then another bag with his mother's; he reached inside and retrieved a small badge, smiling.
Rewarded to
GEN. ANDREW T. COLLINS
For Honorable Service In the Field of Battle
"Dad . . . " the word was uttered for the first time in six years, sounding strange to his ears and feeling so on his lips. So many days, weeks, months had passed since he lost them both; had it only been six years? Had it been that long? Had he ever had parents? At times, he felt like a different life, like something he read about in a book years ago.
He quickly tucked his personal belongings away and the locked the small wood box, closing the lid and noting the initials engraved on top; the box belonged to one of his ancient ancestor, and had been carefully preserved--- as well as redone---over the years. The initals were W.C., his great- grandfather many times removed, back to the 21st Century.
"Time to go, Alex," he murmured.
He grabbed his new jacket from the bed and shouldered into it, smiling as he zipped it up and looked down at the rank: Ensign. Instead of entering the Academy as a cadet, he was promoted to ensign because of his years in the school; a definite advantage over the others in the Academy when they eventually graduated. Everyone claimed he would rise in rank quickly once he graduated, probably becoming at least a lieutenant by twenty-one.
He was starting a new phase in his career, a more intense period of training in which he would learn not only just how to shoot----but how to kill. A barely 16-year-old boy entering a new life . . . in the Time Force Academy.
***
Alex stepped inside onto the cold, marble floor and made his way to the front desk, his boots clomping on the floor loudly. People looked up from their seats, from reading the newspaper, to stare at him as he casually--- yet confidently---walked across the floor without so much as a glance in either direction.
"My name is Collins, A.," he stated at the desk.
"Alexander?"
"Yes."
The ensign seated behind the desk glared at him briefly, for no apparent reason before typing his name down, saying in an uninterested tone: "You're a cadet here, Collins?"
"No. An ensign." Alex glared right back at her. "I was sent over by the TFBS."
"Have you been cleared?" the ensign demanded, "there is a required amount of time you must serve in the school, as well as physical standards---"
"I was at the school for almost six years," Alex said quickly, impatiently. "I scored a one hundred on the final PT Test---" he raised an eyebrow "--- the required score is seventy-five. Now where are my quarters located?"
"Floor Three, Room Twenty-Five."
"Thank you."
He walked by the desk and down the hall, feeling the eyes of the people around him bearing into his back critically; he finally reached the third floor and found his room, surprised to find three others already inside. They stared at him in silence, and he was forced to be the one to speak first:
"Is this your room?"
"Mine," the young man stood up and extended his hand. "Name's Bobby Watkins. You're a newbie, huh?"
"Only to the Academy." Alex placed his bag on an empty cot, saying absently: "Alex Collins."
One of the females sat up straight, her black hair bouncing on her shoulders, she gasped in a light voice: "Alex!?" He turned quickly to see who was speaking, but he didn't recognize the beautiful, young woman staring at him with recognition flickering in her midnight blue eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I have no idea who you are."
"It's me . . . Sienna!"
Sienna Jacobson, from his old school, before his parents died; the young girl that followed him everywhere in her rather pathetic attempt to get him to like her more than just a friend. But she had been a skinny 10-year-old back then, and now she was all grown up . . . he couldn't even blame himself for not recognizing her.
"You've changed," he noted.
"Well, I grew a little." She giggled, batting her long eyelashes as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, he pushed her gently---but firmly. "Don't you like hugs anymore?" She pouted playfully.
"I never did, remember?" But years of military training hadn't helped at all. "Did you join Time Force?" his voice was incredulous.
"As a matter of fact . . . yes!" Sienna cried, "can you believe it?"
"Not really."
"So, where've you been? I haven't seen you in years!"
Alex nodded, sitting down. "I haven't been around in years," he said, "I was sent to a Time Force school after my father died, that's where I've been all this time."
Sienna blinked rapidly, her smile fading quickly and her face becoming solemn as she opened her mouth to speak again, in a quieter voice: "I-I'm sorry, Alex. I never knew about your father." He looked at her briefly, then turned to the other girl, who hadn't spoken once; finally, she introduced herself.
"Dana Shoeman."
"You and Watkins have been here for years?" Alex assumed, judging from the man's first words.
"We're graduating this year," Dana answered.
Bobby and Dana glanced at each other, suddenly seemingly quite awed by Alex's presence, undoubtedly aware of his parents reputations. He frowned outwardly, but felt even worse inwardly; Dana stood and smiled, saying: "Well, we're all headed out for dinner. Wanna come?"
"No," Alex replied, "I have a lot of papers to sign." He smiled slightly. "Thank you anyway."
"Some other time," Dana said cheerfully.
"All right."
A few minutes later, he reported to the head of the Academy, who handed him a stack of papers to read through and sign, a long and tedious process that was bound to take all night. Any other recruit would moan and groan about it the entire time, but when Bobby returned around midnight he found Alex working silently.
"I'm so happy I'm done with all that," he laughed.
Alex glanced up, smirking a little, his face softening from his usual hard mask; Bobby leaned over and nodded. "You've got a good four hours left," he pointed out.
"Three."
"How long have you been working?" Bobby asked, noticing the stack of papers already signed.
"Three and a half hours."
"That's it???" Bobby blinked. "You're fast! Well, try to get some sleep if you can, you'll have a busy day tomorrow. A lot of PT, they like to torture the newbies." With a sly smile, he lay down and fell asleep as Alex continued to work.
*****
Sgt. Daniel McGraw watched as the young Collins boy raced around the track for the eight time, marking the second mile he had run, he glanced at his watch and nodded with satisfaction; Alex ran by and started to slow down, looking back expectantly for his time.
"Very good, Ensign Collins," McGraw said, "ten minutes flat."
Alex nodded, breathing heavily, his face flushed red; he leaned against the fence as Bobby walked over, clapping. "That was a great run, Collins," he said, "broke my record."
"And what was that?"
"Twelve minutes."
Alex chuckled under his breath, nodding his thanks as one of the instructors handed him a cup of water; he hadn't run two miles in twelve minutes since before he was a pre-teen. He sipped the cold water, releshing the feel of the liquid running down his throat; he could have easily gone on at the same pace for at least another three miles, but that didn't mean he wasn't exhausted.
"Well," he said, "we have push-ups next, see you tonight."
"Yeah, good luck."
TBC