First Command by J.S. Hawn

of new and improved tactics to win the next war. Sitting behind his great desk, Keys returned his salute shakily; the man’s mind might have been as active and alive as any, but his body was a wreck. Jonathan took a moment to take in the Admiral's office. It was a good size room, dominated by the Admiral’s large steelwood desk. The walls were lined with tidy bookshelves that contained not holo prints but old style paper bound books. On the right wall instead of a bookshelf was a holo display, currently muted, and tuned to the Public Information Service broadcast of the proceedings in the Capital. Currently, the screen was split between a nearly empty Senate chamber, which was in recess, and what looked to be a raucous debate in the Quorum of the People. On either side of the display sat two paintings. One was an elder man with impressive facial hair in a antique grey uniform wearing a monocle, and the other showed a middle age man with blonde hair, a truly impressive mustache also in an antique uniform, although his was blue, and he also wore riding boots and a antique revolver on his belt. Jonathan was still standing firmly at attention as the Admiral motioned him to sit down.
    Looking up from the file on his desk, the Admiral shook his head in a jerky unsettling motion.
    “Well, well so you’re the famous Pavel the Pirate, huh.”
    The Admiral's words stung but Jonathan said nothing and didn’t let his emotions cross his face.
    “Nothing to say for yourself, boy?”
    “No Sir” Jonathan answered “Only that the inquiry into my conduct not only found me innocent of all wrongdoing, but commend my actions as in line with the best traditions of the service.”
    Admiral Keys smiled, not the shark like grin he gave junior officers to intimidate them, but a kind grandfatherly smile.
    “That boy would be saying something for yourself, still one best check their facts before listening to slanderous Ward Room gossip. So lets see what we have here.”
    The Admiral began to read from the open folder in his desk. “Jonathan Marcus Pavel entered Overwatch Academy August 1 st 828 After A.E. after scoring 900 out of 920 on the entrance exam..hmmm usually such high marks for first years are accompanied by remarks from instructors such as ‘arrogant’ or ‘unable to work with team’ but yours seem to be mostly ‘natural leader’, ‘humble’, ‘team player’. The only real down side is a few questions of your sociability.”
    Jonathan shifted in his chair. He hadn’t been highly social at the Academy. A fair number of Solarian officers not just Landed’s took the gentleman part of officer and gentleman seriously which meant extracurricular sports such as fencing and riding, or social ball attending.
    “Oh” the Admiral said continuing, “I see you solved that second form. Yes, boxing. Seems at least one of your instructors thought it a bit too below deck, but I’m not sure Commander Hodge bleeds red like the rest of us. His blood is a distinct shade of blue,” the Admiral said referring to the first year Astrogation instructor, who also taught elective ballroom dance.
    “Let see… oh yes promoted consistently and...my…my Commander of the Academy squadron by end of the second year and winner of the Dardin cup too, a first for a second year since Marcus Ho was a cadet. Advised…well…if I’m reading this correctly its more like begged to pursue engineering, but took the tactical track instead, yes comments such as ‘stubborn’ seem to profligate here. Graduated sixth in your class, and still the holder of the Dardin cup. Well this is a bit odd seems in your entire academy career you only earned three demerits -one for a curfew violation, one for telling a guest lecturer to take his social theories and quote shove them…well hmmm, ah and one more for damaging the face of one Terrance Foster. Tisk tisk my boy the Speaker of the Senate’s nephew no less.”
    Jonathan straightened, “Permission to speak