n I applied for the Naval Academy
and took that ungodly battery of tests. Those ran for a solid week,
and by the time they were over I was beat--so tired it didn't even
register when, late afternoon of the last day, someone knocked on the
door of my room. But when the door opened anyway and I rolled over to
see who the intruder was, I damn near fainted. Linda Ellman was
standing in the doorway grinning at me, and I thought for a while I was
dreaming. Rangers do have better things to do than show up in
cadet-candidates' rooms, after all. It just doesn't happen.

"But she was there, and she invited me into the group. I'm not too
sure what I said, because the next day I'd decided all over again that
it was a dream. It wasn't until later in the morning, when she showed
up again as we were getting ready for the swearing-in ceremony, that I
started believing. Until then, I'd had every intention of staying in
the Navy. When she asked if I'd reconsidered, though, I realized I
couldn't pass up the chance, and I said yes.

"When I did, she smiled and said, 'We thought you would,' then pinned a
badge on my cadet tunic and took me to the Palace to meet Emperor
Yasunon. We were together for most of the next two years, with her
giving me on-the-job training." Tarlac smiled, reminiscent. "That was
a good time. But I gather things were different for you?"

"Different, yes," Hovan said. "My life for a fighter routine has been.
I this life early chose, and at fourteen I was to fighter school sent.
At eighteen I the final tests passed, then the Ordeal took and the
ground combat service joined. From there I rank made, and last year
won I these." He indicated his collar tabs again.

"Um. You all come up through the ranks, then? No direct commissions?"

"That right is. And all officers must n'Cor'naya be."

"So what's the average age for someone to make Team-Leader?"

"Between sixty and sixty-five Homeworld years."

Tarlac whistled admiringly. "And you're half that. Damn good! I can
see why that'd gain you status." He hesitated, then decided to ask;
Hovan had said there was no prying involved. "What about the young you
shared? They gave you status too,"--Hovan had mentioned them even
before his rank--"okay. But what're they like? How--"

Hovan cut the man off with a gesture, noted the expression of distaste
at his extended claws, and carefully didn't smile. "The younglings you
should for yourself see. They