How the mighty fall.

The Academy years were such a crucial phase in a young persons life, full of dreams and aspirations. A good portion of us were fueled with naivety and a desire to be something greater then what we started out as.

In the beginning, I don't think many of us contemplated the cost of reaching those dreams. Indecisiveness was far from our minds, as long as we passed our exams, we were set to go. As one year folded into the next, the challenges became more intoxicating, more substantial in our development. Like a drug we took in as much as we physically could, but Dick took it to the extreme.

By our third year, I saw a transformation in him, good and bad. This bright, intelligent man who I met on the first day, had evolved into one of the best pilots at the academy. His evasive skills were off the record books. He had an uncanny ability to out maneuver any scenario his instructor had thrown his way. After three years, Dick had found his calling. The man was a prodigy, destined to sit at the helm of a Starship.

The consequence being, that he knew it too. Our seemingly casual breaks, spent in the Academy flight simulator were a way to gain more experience. Personally, I needed that extra training, but for Dick it was all the more consuming. Like a wild fire brushing across the earth, he burnt up his spare time running the most daring scenarios.

For a time, Dick was respectful of his fellow class mates and in the company of lecturers. His instructor had praised his achievements, made him a example in which to follow. But over time those achievements had begun to wear thin on his instructor's resolve. No longer satisfied with the whole picture, Dick tunneled his vision into fierce competition. Our instructor had seen it for what it was and had taken measures to curb his enthusiasm. Being all too aware, the dangers of over achieving and letting it go to your head. Dick just took it under his belt. In his mind, he had something to prove, to conquer and no amount of discussions in the 'office' would stop him.

At the time, I was happy to ride high beside him, as we all were. That nagging thought, tapping in my subconscious was squashed selfishly. He was the godfather of pilots, who thrashed out maneuvers and skirmishes with ease. Forbe, Lengus and I, all tried to beat him, only to fail at the last obstacle. We dwindled in comparison. It had been a great source of inspiration and for the most part. After all it was just some harmless one on one showmanship, but there was one cadet who took it personally. One cadet who never wanted to admit defeat. No one took it as hard as Paris.

I knew Owen from grade school, two years younger then I. A ridged kid who spent his mess breaks going over ship schematics and helm operations. Now at the academy, he was envious of Dick and you could see it in his eyes. The jealousy of a man who was seeing his dream gifted to another man, a cocky person who was unworthy of such success. I remember those last words, yelled throughout the observation platform. I still bristle just thinking about it.

Owen wanted to be a pilot for as long as I've known him. But the tragic outcome was his lack of skills. No matter how many hours he clocked up in flight training, he just didn't have the cognitive ability. Certainly not enough to make piloting your main forte.

His short falls in piloting weren't enough to stop him from taking Dick's bait though. For weeks they went at it, until I had to step in, enough was enough.

Our exchange that afternoon, wasn't something I am proud of. I should have been more tactful and had I known where it lead, I would have chosen a different method. My gentle guidance had been met with turbulence, flat spinning into an unavoidable fiery end. His final argument had been tainted in accusation. In his own words, just like Owen Paris, I was a substandard jealous pilot. I realized at that very moment, that things would never be as they once were.

Slowly he began to pull away from me, from our camaraderie as the lure of excellence clouded his judgement.

It was difficult, especially when he had so much to offer.

His brother had graduated and was serving on a deep space assignment, even he was of little use.

His mother and sister had visited. I stood outside our shared quarters and had given them the privacy they requested, their heartfelt intervention in full swing. I never forgot the look on his sister's face as she stepped outside the room with their mother's hand clasped in hers.

Confusion, hurt and loss.

Like someone who had been subject to a lifetime of deceit.

The last ditch effort came from the only person who could stop him educational wise. Our Formal instructor.

He attempted to steer him onto other avenues, even going so far as have him removed from the curriculum. For his own safety and for that of his class mates. When Dick got wind of his fate, we noticed him come around somewhat. He had started performing better in his other courses, tactical had been a close second to his piloting.

I wasn't fooled though. He played the consummate good Shepard, helping other cadets where ever he could. Underneath it all he had been a troubled man, just buying time till graduation.

For the Head Admirals, there was no question for Dick's future in Starfleet. He was to stay and complete his education.

My personal conclusion at the time was that, they thought a few more years would see him phase out of it. A textbook excuse that kept him attached to Starfleet and honor rolls.

Truth was, they needed him. They needed the best and were willing to overlook his transgressions, pilots like him would come in handy, in an uncertain future.

For the rest of us, it was like looking at a dead man, only Dick never knew it was coming.

But we did. We all did.

TBC