RITZA ACADEMY
LIEGEDEN, EMPORIA
FEDERATED SUNS
6 APRIL 3150
0600 HOURS
Jasper woke moments before his alarm and prepared himself for the light and the noise. As usual, his roommate, Noah, sat on the edge of his bed without actually being awake. His skin hadn’t lost its sleep flush to settle into its usually rosy undertone. That meant he’d just shifted from sleeping to sitting. The first time Noah had done this, it scared the crap out of Jasper. Over the years, he’d gotten used to it. He didn’t know how Noah did the sleep-sitting thing just before the alarm went off, but he was always accurate.
At 0600 hours, all of the dorm’s overhead lights came on, and the Ritza Academy theme began to play. It was five minutes long. That meant they all had thirty minutes to get ready for formation. The two-minute House Davion theme played at the fifteen-minute mark, and the Ritza Academy theme played again at the twenty-five minute mark.
Sometimes Jasper dreamed of the music, waking himself up in the process.
That thirty minutes was a study in controlled chaos. Some showered in the evening to avoid the morning rush. Some showed up at formation with their uniforms clinging to still-wet bodies. Some appeared bright-eyed and ready while others seemed asleep on their feet.
As upperclassmen, whatever their state, they all stood in formation in the great room of their dorm by the end of the final Ritza Academy note. Their formation was perfect. One of the professors—they never knew which one to expect—would stroll through the lines inspecting the cadets. As underclassmen, regardless of how well they had performed, there was a 50 percent chance of all being sent to their rooms and having the Ritza theme played again as they rushed back into formation. As upperclassmen, that wouldn’t happen unless a cadet, or a group of cadets, got caught doing something monumentally stupid and everyone paid for it.
Sir Felix Lemaire appeared, and the cadets snapped to attention. While no one said anything, surprise rippled through the ranks. Sir Felix was in charge of the ’Mech bay. Bald and pale with the darkest eyes, he was too intimidating for anyone to joke about his appearance. Even if it lent itself to a monster or two of legend. Jasper had once privately joked to Nadine that somehow everyone had misspelled “Nosferatu” as “Lemaire.” She’d smiled at the joke, but no more.
Today the professor didn’t walk the rows, didn’t acknowledge the merits or flaws of the formation, and didn’t seem to notice they were at attention. He had the look of a man with a lot on his mind and he’d been forced out of his lair to do some loathsome, menial task. He stood there in silence for a good thirty seconds, staring at and through them. It came as a shock when he finally spoke.
“You are all to report to the parade field. In formation. Know who is on either side of you. Know if anyone is missing.” He paused. “Is anyone missing?”
Jasper looked around and found all the people he cared about there. Except for Nadine. She was in the upperclassmen infantry dorm. He wondered if a similar thing was happening in each of the other three dorm buildings.
Sir Felix cleared his throat. “I said, is anyone missing?”
“No, sir!” rang out in a single shout.
The professor hesitated, then nodded. “Head to the parade field. The mess hall will be open after that.” He turned and walked away.
Another moment’s pause, then that week’s various squad commanders stepped forward. One after another called their squads to order and led them to the parade field. This was the kind of thing they’d done for years in drill. They’d never done an unexpected morning formation. While everyone marched as expected, whispers began, breaking discipline.
Jasper didn’t have to wonder about what was happening in the other dorms. All of the Ritza Academy cadets—underclassmen and uppers alike—marched to the parade ground and formed up. Only four professors stood on the presentation platform: Sir Felix Lemaire, ’Mech Bay lead; Sir Michael Yaxley, maths and physical education; Lady Ruth Atherton, biology and chemistry; Dame Ivy Ross, physics and navigation. He didn’t usually see them outside of class or the mess hall except for Sir Felix, and him usually only from afar. In either case, this wasn’t the normal cadre who presided over the entire academy.
Sir Michael stepped up to the mic, and the cadets focused on him. “At ease.”
Almost five hundred cadets, some of them still so new that this was their first full parade-ground formation, nailed their left foot to the ground, but allowed the rest of themselves to relax. Most of the upperclassmen shifted into parade rest, with their hands crossed at their lower back.
“As you can see, the normal cadre is not here. They have been called away to…” He stopped. “They have been called away. As such, normal classes will not be in session for the next two days. We have saved a special task for this sort of eventuality. It’s been about three years since the last full clean and inventory of the Ritza Academy…”
Several senior cadets groaned.
Sir Michael smiled a mouthful of teeth at them. “I see you remember. If you did a good job back then, this shouldn’t take more than a day, and you’ll have a day to relax. If you didn’t…” He let the sentence hang in the air long enough for the entire academy to know his opinion on how well he thought they’d done.
“Here’s how it’s going to go. ’Mech and infantry deal with their own areas. Underclassmen will begin with a full clean and inventory of all classrooms, labs, and other work areas that do not include heavy equipment. Upperclassmen will assist in a full clean and inventory of all vehicles, ’Mechs, tools, and associated supplies. Meet time is 08:00. Infantry, lowerclassmen, report to me in the gym. Infantry, upperclassmen, report to Dame Ivy Ross in the garage. MechWarriors, lowerclassmen, report to Lady Ruth Atherton in the Vogel Hall. MechWarriors, upperclassmen, report to Sir Felix Lemaire in the ’Mech bay. Roll will be taken. Do not be late.” His gaze swept the full assembly of cadets.
While he did so, Dame Ivy bellowed, “Cadets, attention!”
The students straightened with a snap.
Sir Michael leaned into the mic. “I want this academy looking like a place that you’re proud to call home. I want the cadre to come back to clean, organized rooms and vehicles that shine. I want them to know they can count on all of us. Can you do that?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
He nodded at the loud but tense response. “Good. Dismissed.”
The cadet corps took three steps backward and about-faced before dissolving into a mass of worried, hurrying cadets. None of this was normal, and they didn’t have a lot of time to think about it. They had just enough time to eat, change into their grubbiest fatigues, and report in for their assignments.
Nadine, Fynn, Ben, Harper, and Lyric stood inside a large storeroom at the back of the vehicle bay. The five of them had been lucky enough to be assigned to inventory. Not that it was an easy job with the amount of random crap that stuffed the shelves. One of the Ritza Academy’s unofficial mottos was, “Don’t toss it until you’re sure you can’t use it.” Still, it was easier than cleaning industrial tools and oil traps.
It was also out of the way and out of sight from Dame Ivy, who had a reputation for finding even more work for cadets who looked like they were slacking. Harper, their team lead, had made the choice after sending some of the more annoying cadets to do the less pleasant work.
Leaning to Lyric as she kept an eye on Harper, Nadine asked, “Think you could cover for me long enough so I can get a call into New Ex to see if anyone knows what’s actually going on?”
Lyric shrugged and glanced at Harper. The senior cadet had Fynn and Ben on the far wall, giving them instructions on how to inventory and organize the shelves. Everyone had noteputers for inventory. Harper would be the one to do the final tally for this particular store room. “Maybe. Depends on her.”
Harper walked over as the guys got to work. “All right. Here are the organizational lists from last time. No idea if they match reality at all or not, but we’ve got to make it work.” She transmitted the lists and shelf organization to their noteputers. “Everything needs to be cleaned and put in place. Anything we don’t have a category for, put over there.” She pointed to one end of the room. “Everything that looks broken or completely useless, over there.” She pointed to a spot by the door.”
“Cadet Estbury, I—” Nadine began.
Harper cut her off. “Stow it, Roux. You’ve got one hour. One. But under two conditions. First, you bring your info back here before you tell anyone else. Second, you make up that hour in either effort or overtime. I’m not done until you’re done. Got it?”
Nadine blinked at her a couple of times. “I have an hour to do what?”
“To go get your information any way you can. You were about to make up some lame excuse to get away for a bit. Everyone knows if you want to know something, you go see Nadine Roux. Well, I want to know what’s going on. Or did you not notice the only professors we’ve seen are the ones who weren’t MechWarriors once upon a time?”
Nadine’s inhale wasn’t the only one as the other cadets listened. “I hadn’t.”
“I did. My parents were both MechWarriors. If something pulled all the retired MechWarriors from the academy, there’s a good bet my parents are there, too. So, do we have a deal?”
“Yeah. We do. I’ve got one hour. You get the information first. I make up my missing hour.” She put out her hand.
Harper shook it with a firm grip that didn’t hide the concern in her face. “All right. Go on. If Dame Ivy comes by and notices we’re missing someone, I’ll say I sent you to get something. Just don’t be gone for more than an hour, and don’t get caught. You get caught, I’ll tell Dame Ivy that you ran off to the bathroom and didn’t come back.”
“I won’t get caught.” With that, Nadine slipped out of the storeroom and out of the garage bay through a rarely used back door.
The ’Mech bay buzzed with activity as fifty upperclassmen milled about in the middle of the room—talking, laughing, and looking around at the ’Mechs. It was the forced jocularity of nervous teenagers who didn’t know what was about to happen.
Two-thirds of the bay was taken up with the eight academy training ’Mechs. The other third was taken up with a mish-mash of ammunitions, shelves, and doorways into storerooms, small offices, and hallways to other parts of the building.
Sir Felix stalked into the bay. As the cadets scrambled to come to some semblance of a formation, the bald man waved them off. “At ease. At ease. Gather around. I don’t want to shout to make myself heard.”
The cadets clumped together and gathered into a semi-circle in front of Sir Felix.
Jasper found himself toward the outer edge, shoved together with Delany and Elias. He glanced up at the taller teenager. Elias smiled and shrugged. A weight lifted off Jasper’s shoulders: Elias wasn’t mad anymore. They might be able to talk about things now.
He leaned toward his friend. “We good?”
Elias nodded. “We’re good. Sorry about…stuff. You know.”
Jasper knew. Before he could do more than smile and nod, Delany elbowed him and nodded toward the front. Jasper took the hint and paid attention to the professor. But not before he caught the edge of her half-smirk.
Sir Felix didn’t need to raise his voice to show just how much he wasn’t looking forward to the next two days of cadets running all over his ’Mech bay. His face twisted like he’d tasted something sour. “For the next two days, you will be working for the academy ’Mech bay. Your main two superiors will be Sergeant Major Vale Auger and Sergeant Joseph Crusett. Both men speak with my voice. They can—and will—make my displeasure known. If you do what you’re told, no one will get demerits. Since ’Mech bay demerits usually involve cleaning, and that’s what you’ll be doing for the next two days, I will get creative with punishments. You do not want this. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir!” It wasn’t quite a shout, but it was loud enough to satisfy.
“There are five main tasks. ’Mech maintenance and cleaning. Ammunition organization and inventory. Bay maintenance and cleaning. Scaffolding inspection and repair. And my favorite, hydraulic lift maintenance, repair, and cleaning—including the fluid catches under the floor. Each one of these tasks will be overseen by a squad leader and performed by a group of ten cadets.”
Sir Felix looked around the bay and chose five cadets near him. “Clements, Salter, Dencourt, Vasseur, and Goodryke.” He pointed at each cadet as he said their last names. “You five are the squad leaders.”
They stepped forward. Jasper couldn’t see the looks on the cadets’ faces, but he was glad he wasn’t among them. To be that close to Sir Felix while he was ticked off was not something any cadet wanted. Especially when it put you in charge.
“You are responsible for your assigned task. If any of your people fail, you fail. You will each be in charge of nine cadets…” Sir Felix’s voice faded as he spoke directly to his squad leaders.
“How was the party last night?” Elias asked, keeping his voice low, his lips barely moving.
Jasper glanced at Delany. She was listening, but didn’t tell him to pay attention this time. Seemed she wanted to know as well. “It was…a family dinner…but weirder.”
Elias made a come on gesture.
“Everyone was on edge. They were all upset about something to do with an incoming DropShip that might not be what it said it was. But the person who told them is ‘suspect’ and I don’t know why. Everyone wants to know what’s going on, but no one’s talking. That’s the long and short of it.” Jasper glanced over at Sir Felix, who was making chopping motions in the air toward the group of cadets. “Old Baron Frosig made a scene, and Lady Shannon took him away from dinner so he could rest.”
“Wait,” Delany broke in. “The hostess removed a guest from dinner?”
Jasper nodded.
She frowned. “Well, hell. That’s bad. What did he say?”
“He just wanted to know what was ‘up there.’ That’s it.” Jasper peered at her. Delany was Blooded and the youngest daughter of the Menard family. That meant she had more of an insight into how nobles acted.
She grabbed his forearm. “What did she say? Exactly.”
He wracked his brain. “Um, she said something about him enjoying the wine. Then something about him needing to rest. Why? What does that mean?”
“It means he knew more than he should’ve and was probably right about something, but she was trying to play it off.”
Before Delany could say more, Sir Felix said, “All right cadets. You’ve got your squads, squad leaders, and marching orders. Dismissed!”
Jasper didn’t know which way to go. He hadn’t paid attention to who he’d been assigned to or what they were doing. He gave Elias a quizzical look.
“Stay here,” Elias said, and did not look happy.
A quick count showed nine cadets around Jasper, including him, Delany, and Elias. His heart sank as Ethan Goodryke swaggered over to the group.
“Looks like you losers are with me. We’re off to deal with the ammo. I’m to tell you all that even though most of it is training flash-bangs, it can, and will, kill every single one of us in this building—just like the live ammo we’ll be moving, so we need to be careful. If we aren’t careful, we’re in trouble. If we’re not dead, that is. Any questions?”
Yeah, Jasper thought. How the hell do I get on another squad? He didn’t say a word, but distaste showed on his face.
Ethan gazed at Jasper, his eyes hardening into something like hate. “Got something to say, Roux?”
Jasper shook his head.
“Thought not.” Ethan turned away. “Looks like you got assigned the right squad. This’ll be a good lesson in how an actual leader leads his people—something you still have yet to learn.”