Ain't No Cure for the Summertime Blues

December 789 U.C, Heinessen

When Annerose woke up very early for her apprenticeship, she realized Reinhard was already up and awake, making coffee in the kitchen.

“What are you doing up?” she asked, stumbling blearily around the dim room, lit only by the living room lamp.

“I wanted to see you off to your first day of work,” Reinhard said.

“You didn’t have to,” Annerose mumbled, making her way into the bathroom. When she came out dressed in her uniform a bit later, Reinhard had also made her some breakfast.

“You look good,” Reinhard said, appraising her in her uniform, even though she still had a towel wrapped around her head.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me in uniform before,” she replied. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Well, you’re a real professional now. It’s different.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that. I’m still just a cadet.”

“But you’ll be doing real work.”

“I somehow doubt that I will be doing anything too challenging or vital.”

“Still, better than being stuck here.”

Annerose looked up at him. He was washing off the cooking pan, his pyjama sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “You should eat before your breakfast gets cold. You don’t have to do the dishes right now.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said.

“Is something the matter?”

“Nothing more than usual.”

“Well, if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Should I admit that I’m jealous of you?”

She laughed. “You’ll be where I am in three years. All you need is patience.”

“I’ve never had much of that.”

“It’s a good skill to develop.” Annerose poked at her eggs, then dipped her slice of toast in the yolk. “You’ll need it much more when you’re actually in the fleet than you will while you’re in high school.”

“I’m not sure why you say that.”

“Right now, you can do as you like,” Annerose pointed out gently. “There’s a certain privilege in being just another child. There’s no expectations, and thus no need to comply with people above you.”

“I feel as though I have to put up with quite a lot.”

“High school is not that bad.”

“It’s tedious.”

“But it may be more pleasant for you than taking orders from a superior. So, maybe do your best to learn to live patiently now, so it will be less of a grind on your patience later.”

“You have a low opinion of how I conduct myself.”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “I think you’ve done well, at least in terms of school, recently. Unless you have been in fights that I don’t know about.”

“No.”

“Then I have a fine opinion of your conduct. It’s your attitude that may be a problem. If you spend your time thinking about how frustrated you are, you’re only going to give yourself an ulcer.”

“And so what do you suggest? I join a meditation group like our mother has?”

Annerose laughed. “I think you’d have even less patience for meditation than you have for high school. I don’t know what I suggest. All I’m saying is that there’s no need to be jealous of me. In a few years, I’m sure you’ll outshine me by far.”

“Don’t say that.”

“And why shouldn’t I? It’s true, isn’t it?”

Reinhard frowned. “We should be equals. I know how capable you are.”

“We’ll see,” Annerose said. “In any event, eat your breakfast.”

He dried off the pan and sat down at the table, sipping his coffee. Annerose kept glancing at the time. “I should go soon if I want to catch my train.”

“Do you want me to escort you?”

“In your pyjamas? I don’t think so.” She stood and put her dishes in the sink. “Thank you again for breakfast, though, again, you didn’t have to. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself a bowl of cereal.”

“As you said, it’s not as though I have anything better to do with my time.”

Annerose ruffled his hair as she walked past him into the bathroom to brush her own hair. “You could sleep in. It’s good for your growth.”

“Hmph. I thought you told me you wanted me to stop getting taller.”

“Suit yourself, if you don’t want to sleep, then.” She pulled on her shoes. “I’ll probably be back late. No reason to make mom wait on me for dinner.”

“Alright.”

She gathered her keys and wallet, then paused with her hand on the door. “See you tonight,” she said.

“Good luck, though I doubt you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” she said.

It was still very dark out when she walked to the train station, and the journey into Heinessenopolis was one where the scenery outside slowly illuminated with the rising of the sun. The train was crowded with all types of people commuting into the capital, and Annerose felt quite anonymous in her uniform, sitting in one of the ratty old seats and staring nervously out the window. She wished she had an embroidery project to work on, during the ride. Perhaps tomorrow she would set up a hoop small enough to fit inside the inner pocket of her uniform jacket. Something to fill her hands and calm her mind.

Her assignment was in the military affairs headquarters, which felt quite above her station, and she walked up the huge marble steps with some trepidation. Inside, there was a whole row of desks at which people went up and stated their business, if they were visitors, or passed directly through the security checkpoint into the main part of the building, if they were staff. Annerose went up to the desks.

“Hello,” she said. “I’ve been assigned here as part of the Student Officer Training Program. Would you be able to tell me where I need to report?”

The man at the desk nodded. “Name?”

“Annerose von Müsel.”

“And you’re reporting to?”

“Commander Cazerne.”

“Can I see your assignment letter and photo ID?”

Annerose handed both of those things over, and he compared her face to the one on her ID, then fed her ID into a slot on his desk. It disappeared momentarily, and there was a sound of whirring machinery. A few seconds later, he handed her back her original ID, and a new card. “That’s for entering this building only. If your CO decides you need further clearances, he will have to request them for you. If you lose it, report the loss immediately.”

“I understand.”

“Commander Cazerne’s office is on the fourth floor, hall A, room 27. The elevators are just past the security checkpoint. Do you have any questions?”

“No. Thank you very much.” And then Annerose was on her way, nervously passing through security with her new identification card, and then standing waiting for the elevator. The elevator dinged and opened, empty, and she got in.

As the doors began to close, a man a little further down the hall said, “Would you mind holding that for me?”

Annerose stuck her arm in the door to stop it from closing, and the old man entered the elevator with her. “Much obliged,” he said.

“Not a problem, sir,” Annerose said, making note of his rank from the pin on his collar: commodore.

“It’s the summer already, is it?” he said, rubbing his chin and looking at her. “Seems to come earlier every year.”

“Yes, sir,” Annerose said, not sure if she was expected to answer that.

“I think you’re early,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I didn’t see any other cadets roaming the halls.”

“My train ride was shorter than I expected, sir,” Annerose said.

“Where’d you take the train in from?”

“Wrightsville.”

“That is a bit of a trip. My wife’s from Wrightsville,” he said. “Good people there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s your name, cadet?”

“Annerose von Müsel.”

“Von Müsel, eh?” The elevator made it to the fourth floor and the doors slid open. “After you,” he said. Annerose realized that he hadn’t pressed a floor button, so they must have been headed to the same place.

She stepped out, then looked around for direction signage.

“Where are you headed?” the commodore asked.

“Commander Cazerne’s office, sir.”

He chuckled. “What a coincidence. I was just about to bother him myself. I’ll show you the way.”

“Thank you, sir,” Annerose said.

He gestured for her to follow him down the hallway, and she did, stepping beside him. “What school year are you in, Cadet von Müsel?” he asked.

“I’m going to be a sophomore, sir.”

“Oh, young. Good to get an early start. Shows promise, I’ve been told.”

“Thank you, sir.” She wasn’t sure what to say, but she didn’t want the conversation to become awkward, so she asked, “Did you participate in the student program when you were young, sir?”

He laughed at that. “I’m afraid not. I’m a rather uneducated man, you see. I didn’t attend the Officers’ Academy.”

Annerose immediately wished she had not stumbled her way into this minefield of a conversation topic. She didn’t know if he would appreciate a joke or compliment, so she settled on, “It must be valuable, to have a different perspective than what the academy provides.”

“That is incredibly tactful phrasing, cadet.” He smiled at her and stopped in front of one of the office doors. “Here we are.”

He rapped on the door, and from inside, a man called, “Come in.”

The commodore opened the door and entered. Annerose hesitated for a fraction of a second, then followed. The office was long and narrow, with a desk in front of a row of filing cabinets, and a hulking computer system in the back. Behind the desk, standing up and saluting, was a young man, probably not even thirty, with dirty blonde hair and glasses perched on the end of his nose.

The commodore and Annerose saluted back. “I brought you a gift, Commander Cazerne,” the commodore said.

“Is that my cadet you have, Commodore?”

“I believe so,” he said. “We had a fortuitous meeting in the elevator, since I was coming to ask you--”

“About the maintenance schedule?” Cazerne asked, looking somewhat annoyed. “I figured you would be here. Well, I have good news and bad news for you.”

“I just wanted to make sure it was still on your radar,” the commodore said. “I know other things have taken precedence.”

“I wouldn’t forget. I’m moving your battlegroup up through the queue as fast as I humanly can. But we only have so many available drydocks. The good news is that I was able to trade your spot with Rear Admiral Traung.”

“Oh, and what’s the bad news?”

“Hm, maybe you don’t want to know.”

“I did say you could trade anything that was reasonable.”

“He wanted your new Spartinians.”

The commodore sighed. “Of course he did. Well, there’s no use in Spartinians if my battleships are falling apart underneath me, so I’ll take it.”

“You’ll have to, because he won’t trade back. He certainly thinks he’s gotten the better end of the deal.”

“He’ll think that until it’s time to deploy while half his ships are still unmaintained,” the commodore said, rubbing his chin. “Thank you. I’m sure it was some trouble for you.”

“Not at all,” Cazerne said. “I know how to get things done.”

“Of course.” The commodore glanced at his watch. “I should run-- I have a meeting.” He turned to Annerose who had been standing stiffly, watching the exchange with a polite and neutral expression. “Cazerne’s a good man. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from him.”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to say things like that while I’m in the room. She’ll think you’re trying to get favors out of me.”

The commodore laughed and headed out of the room. Cazerne sighed and sat back down at his desk. “Von Müsel, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Annerose said.

“Please, take a seat.” He waved at the chair on the other side of his desk, and Annerose sat stiffly. “Sorry about the rather odd introduction. You’ll have to get used to people coming in here at all hours demanding favors of me.”

“May I ask a question, sir?”

“Of course.”

“Who was that?”

Cazerne laughed. “Commodore Bucock. He’s with the fifth fleet. His battlegroup has ended up at the tail end of the maintenance queue for several deployments, and the fifth fleet is probably going out again soon. An untenable situation, so he asked me for some help with it, which I’m only too happy to provide.”

Annerose nodded, though she couldn’t help but narrow her eyes slightly at the story. Cazerne studied her. “And I see you want to ask another question.”

“I wouldn’t want to ask something offensively ignorant, sir,” Annerose said.

Cazerne’s lips twitched up in the hint of a smile. “Indeed, Cadet von Müsel, there may be no such thing as a stupid question, but there are some questions that are still better left unasked.” But then he broke into a real smile, and picked up some papers from his desk and shuffleed them into a stack. “But, of course, things that truly shouldn’t be asked about, Commodore Bucock and I probably would not be discussing right in front of you, no? So, feel free to ask.”

“Is there a reason that Commodore Bucock’s battlegroup was scheduled to be maintained last?”

“He has longstanding disagreements with some of the other senior members of the fifth fleet,” Cazerne said. “It’s unfortunate, but such things often end up influencing decisions both on and off the battlefield.”

“It seems unfair to the soldiers under his command, sir,” Annerose risked saying.

“Certainly. Though I should say that such things generally don’t matter. Usually there’s plenty of time between deployments for every ship to have its turn in drydock, and someone has to be last on the list, so those decisions are made on something resembling a whim. But this time, it’s a little more urgent, so I’m doing my best to shuffle.”

“And that’s… allowed, sir?”

“It’s my job,” Cazerne said. “And for this summer, it’ll be yours, too. If you’ll indulge me in an analogy for a moment, the military is rather like the body.” He held up his hands. “The right hand knows not what the left hand is doing, but the brain must tell them both what to do, and spend plenty of time thinking about that. The brain alone can’t do the work, and the heart and lungs have to make sure that the whole body gets plenty of oxygen. If the heart and lungs are working properly, the brain doesn’t have to waste energy thinking about breathing. When you work in logistics, that’s what your duty is: to make sure that nobody above you”-- he tapped his head-- “or below you”-- he held up his right hand-- “has to worry about where their next meal or coming from, or if they are going to have enough staff for their ships, which all need to be in the right place at the right time. Anyway, that is to say that, since people don’t like to think about it, I have the freedom to get results.”

“That seems like a lot of responsibility, sir.”

“And for responsibility, I’m sure you mean something else entirely, my very tactful cadet. This position requires a high level of trust. All positions in the military do, of course, but some are more vulnerable to exploitation than others. There’s little in the way of personal glory here in logistics, and there’s also a terrible temptation for self-enrichment.” He steepled his hands and looked at her. “And yet, the body could not survive without its heart and lungs, susceptible to invisible disease though they may be.”

“I see, sir.”

“I’m sure you do.” He looked at her. “I read your personal essay, by the way.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said. “I thought only the selection committee would.”

“After they narrow things down, they do let those of us participating in the program as teachers make the final choice. They strip all the names off, but we get to see your whole application aside from that.”

“Thank you for choosing me, then, sir.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. I’m going to work you to the bone.”

“I’m grateful for the opportunity, regardless.”

“Hah. Do you know why I chose you?”

“I wouldn’t presume, sir.”

“Well, your grades were excellent, and obviously you show potential for applying as a freshman, but I liked your essay about utility value. It was somewhat clinical, but sometimes being clinical is the most honest thing.”

She nodded. “I am glad that came across.”

“I can certainly put you to good use here,” he said. “You make me curious. But I suppose we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other before the summer’s out.”

“I look forward to it, sir.”

“Yes, well, you’re going to have to hit the ground running,” he said. “I’ve been taking cadets every summer for several years, and I forgot to take myself off the list this year until things were already too late. You’ve unfortunately come at a somewhat chaotic time in my life; my wife is very pregnant.”

“Congratulations, sir.”

“Thank you. Anyway, that just means that I need to get you up to speed on everything that you’ll be responsible for as quickly as possible, just in case I vanish without warning. The nice thing about an assignment like this is that I do get family leave, at least a little.” He woke up the computer on his desk. “Come over here-- let me walk you through a few things.”

Annerose was always exhausted when she returned from her internship in the evenings. Cazerne was a force of nature, in some respects, and he spent most of his time extremely busy. If he wasn’t at his computer working, he was attending meetings with his superiors and his subordinates, or going between people’s offices with his notebook in hand and Annerose at his heels, arranging the who, what, when, and where of supplying what felt like to Annerose the entire Alliance military. In reality, he was only in charge of coordinating resupply of fleets that had returned to Heinessen from campaign, which was an ever rotating group.

“If you want to get to know the who’s who around here,” Cazerne had said to Annerose at one point, “you can hardly do better than being with me. Every fleet that passes into the Heinessen starzone needs to go through me for resupply, so I end up knowing almost everyone.”

She was quite impressed with his memory, his efficiency, and, as she got to know him better, his odd sense of humor. He was impressed by her work ethic, her ability to learn on the job, and, as he got to know her better, her flashes of insight and stubbornness. They worked quite well together. When Cazerne needed a task done, he only had to describe it once, and then Annerose would do it and mentally add it to her list of things that she was expected to do without prompting. She rarely made mistakes, and never made the same mistake twice.

She loved the work, and often got so tied up in it that she lost track of time completely, and would miss her usual train back to Wrightsville. When that happened, she would send Reinhard a guilty text message.

> please don’t wait on me for dinner

> I’m working late again

But he would always wait for her anyway. The first time this had happened, she had felt bad, so she started assuaging her own guilt by picking up dessert from a bakery she passed on her way to the train station, and holding it in her lap on the journey home.

This Monday night was one of these occasions, and Annerose came back to their little apartment bearing a box full of fruit tarts, a desert she enjoyed quite a lot. Reinhard preferred cake, but the tarts had been on sale at the bakery, and Annerose could not resist something that appeared to be a better deal than the black forest cake that she had been otherwise considering.

When she got home, Annerose was surprised to find that dinner had not been made. Reinhard was usually on top of it, so when there was no smell of food in the apartment when she came in, her mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. The apartment was quiet, and the lights in the kitchen and living room were off. Annerose left her box of fruit tarts on the table.

“Reinhard, are you home?” she called.

A second later, he came out of their mother’s bedroom, scowling. “Welcome back,” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t make dinner.”

“What’s the matter?” Annerose asked. “Is everything alright?” She looked around his shoulder to the dark bedroom he had emerged from.

“I’m fine,” Reinhard said. “But the charge card’s gone missing, so I couldn’t get groceries, so I couldn’t cook dinner.”

“Missing?” Annerose asked. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. Missing.”

“You don’t have to be short with me. Things get misplaced.”

“I don’t misplace things.”

“I haven’t used the charge card in weeks,” Annerose said. “Not since we bought you that new shirt. Did it fall under the fridge?” They usually kept the charge card in a little holder on the side of the fridge.

“I know. I’m not blaming you.” The way he stressed ‘you’ made Annerose pause, though she was bending down and using her phone flashlight to look underneath the fridge, illuminating a few dust bunnies and pieces of pasta that had rolled under there.

“And so you were looking in mom’s room? Why would she take it? She never leaves the house.”

“She’s not in the house right now,” Reinhard pointed out. Annerose got off her hands and knees and washed her hands in the sink.

“If it’s gone, you can call the bank tomorrow and get a new one. If she has it, then she probably has a good reason for it.”

“Come look at this,” Reinhard said. Annerose followed him into their mother’s bedroom, where he flipped on the light.

Annerose didn’t go into her mother’s room very often, so at first she didn’t really notice anything amiss. She smiled at the sight of her embroidered bedspread, still in use, but that wasn’t what Reinhard was pointing out. On top of the dresser, there seemed to be a small shrine, candles arranged around a rock sitting on top of a large white piece of cloth, printed with some sort of slogan. Reinhard pulled open the top drawer to reveal that it was stuffed with books and pamphlets, most of which were studded with little pieces of paper covered in Caribelle’s spidery handwriting.

“I’m sure the card isn’t in there, Reinhard,” Annerose said. “We shouldn’t be going through her stuff.”

“Look at all this, though.”

“You were the one who said it was harmless.”

“It’s harmless until she’s spending our food and rent money on rocks,” he said.

“One rock. Come on, leave it. If you need money, I have some. We can order takeout.”

Reinhard frowned, but closed the drawer, and the two of them left the room. Annerose sat down at the kitchen table and called in an order to a restaurant down the street. She handed Reinhard her personal charge card and told him to go pick it up, figuring that getting him out of the house would let him stop stewing for a minute. She loved him, and empathized with his anger, but his tetchy behavior was going to annoy her until she got him to cheer up.

A few minutes after he left, the door to their apartment opened. Annerose looked up, expecting it to be Reinhard, but it was her mother.

“Oh, Annerose, glad you made it home. How was work?” Caribelle asked, smiling at Annerose as she took off her shoes.

“It was fine, mama.” Annerose considered how to broach the topic of the missing charge card. “Did you eat dinner?”

“I had some at the meeting. You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”

“No, I sent Reinhard out to get takeout.”

“Are you celebrating something?”

“No, he just didn’t grocery shop, so there isn’t any food in the house.”

“Oh, okay.”

“He couldn’t find the charge card,” Annerose said.

Caribelle paused in what she was doing, getting a drink of water from the sink. “It’s in my purse.”

“I’m glad it’s not lost,” Annerose said, keeping her voice mild. “What did you need it for?”

“I was getting you a birthday gift.”

Annerose laughed. “Oh, mama, you really didn’t have to.”

“You’re my daughter, of course I have to.” Caribelle smiled. “Birthday and New Year’s. It’s a shame that they’re one and the same for you.”

“It makes it easy to remember how old I am. I’m glad that’s all you needed the card for, though. Reinhard was worried.”

“What was he worried about?”

“You know how he likes to be in control of the finances,” Annerose said.

“I am his mother.”

“But he does all the grocery shopping. I guess just tell him if you’re using it, next time.”

“Now I’m being scolded by my daughter, as well,” Caribelle said. “What has the world come to?”

“I’m not trying to scold, mama. I just don’t want Reinhard to be upset with you.”

“I know,” Caribelle said. “Thank you for saving me from his wrath.”

“He wouldn’t yell at you, just be snippy.”

“I have a headache, so even snippiness might be a little much at the moment,” Caribelle said. She opened one of the cupboards and pulled out the pain medicine, taking a few pills with her water.

“You should go lay down, then. Don’t let your society meetings tire you out too much.”

“Oh, they’re wonderful. My headache was way worse earlier.”

“If you say so.”

“Goodnight, Annerose,” Caribelle said, heading into her bedroom.

“Night, mama.”

Reinhard returned a few minutes later, bearing the takeout meal. Annerose’s stomach growled loudly when he placed it down on the table and handed her her own card back. “Thanks for getting it. Mom came back, by the way.”

“Oh?” Reinhard’s voice was cautious.

“She said she was buying me a birthday present.”

Reinhard’s whole manner changed, and he smiled. “Of course. That’s fine, then.”

“Don’t you buy me anything,” she said. “I swear. I am not worth spending money on.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Beg all you want, that doesn’t change the fact that rent money is rent money. I’m the only one who has discretionary funds around here, so I’m the only one who’s allowed to buy other people gifts.”

“That seems terribly unfair,” Reinhard said. “You work hard, only to give things to us ingrates.”

“That’s my job,” Annerose said. She tugged on Reinhard’s hair and he smiled. “Consider tonight’s dinner my birthday present from you.”

“I don’t see how I can possibly do so, but I’ll try, for your sake.”

“You can consider that the dessert is one that I picked for myself, rather than for you.”

He laughed. “Alright. If that’s how you want to justify it.”

“I do.”

“I’ll cook something nice tomorrow.” He glanced over at the fridge, where the charge card was supposed to be. Annerose’s eyes narrowed; despite the whole conversation, their mother had walked into her bedroom, carrying her purse and the charge card, and her door was now firmly shut.

February 790 U.C., Heinessen

Annerose looked over at Reinhard and sighed. “I thought I told you to stop growing. That jacket barely fits.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’ll last one more wearing.”

“I suppose it looks fine. I don’t think Commander Cazerne has much of an eye for fashion. Though his wife might.” She frowned a little. “Your hair situation is untenable. Sit down and let me fix it for you.”

“It’s fine,” Reinhard said, but he sat down in the kitchen chair anyway, and Annerose retrieved her brush and hair ties from the bathroom. She brushed and braided his wild mane of blonde hair in a fashion she occasionally had used on her own, back when her hair was long enough to braid. Though her hair was down by her ears, at this point, it was nowhere near as long as Reinhard’s was, and she was somewhat jealous.

“That looks better, doesn’t it?” Annerose asked when she finished. Reinhard, who had been silent and relaxed while she worked, ran his hand over the braids.

“It’s more contained, anyway,” he said. “Are you afraid that I’ll make a bad impression on your boss?”

“No,” Annerose said. “But there’s no point in appearing scruffy, either.”

“Got your gift?”

“Of course I do,” Annerose said. She picked up the wrapped package off the kitchen table, feeling its contents slide around inside the paper. That was the trouble with wrapping fabric, she supposed. “There’s still a little time before the train, but I guess we can get going.”

She walked towards their mother’s room to say goodbye, but Reinhard said, “She’s asleep; don’t bother.”

“Do I look okay?”

“Yes,” Reinhard said. “Though your boss might not recognize you out of uniform,” he joked.

Annerose laughed and grabbed her keys. “I’m tired of wearing the uniform. It’s nice to have an occasion to dress up. Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

They walked out of the apartment together, into the muggy afternoon air. Annerose had grown used to the atmosphere of Wrightsville over the years, so she found even the odd smell drifting up from the river perhaps not pleasant, but comforting and familiar. The sky was painfully blue, and the sinking sun dazzled on the grimy factory and apartment windows.

They were taking the train to Cazerne’s house in the suburbs outside Heinessopolis, so it was a longer ride than usual, and Annerose looked at the new scenery out the train windows with some fascination. She had brought a small embroidery project to work on in her purse, as she usually did, but she didn’t take it out on the journey. Reinhard spent the whole time typing out something furiously on his phone. Annerose could only assume it was another post on his blog.

They made it to Cazerne’s house, a neat little white building in a whole square full of identical white buildings, officer housing, by time the sun was just touching the tops of the trees a furious red. Annerose rang the doorbell, Reinhard standing stiffly behind her shoulder.

A moment later, the door opened, revealing a brightly smiling and sprightly blonde woman, about the same height as Annerose. She was hugely pregnant, so much so that Annerose wondered how she could still walk, let alone lean forward on her toes charmingly as she said, “You must be the wonderful Ms. von Müsel!”

“I said I would get the door!” Cazerne’s voice sounded from inside, before Annerose could even say anything in response.

“You weren’t fast enough, dear,” Mrs. Cazerne said, turning to look at her husband, who had appeared behind her shoulder.

Annerose smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Cazerne. This is my brother, Reinhard.”

“Please, just Hortense,” she said with a smile. “I’m so glad to meet you both. Come in, though, let’s not have you standing in my doorway.”

There was a bit of a traffic jam in the entryway as everyone tried to squeeze in, primarily caused by Cazerne not moving out of the way of his wife fast enough.

“This is for you,” Annerose said. “As a thank you for your hospitality.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Hortence said as Annerose pressed her wrapped package into her hands. “Should I open this now?”

Annerose glanced at Cazerne, who was shaking hands with Reinhard and not paying any attention to what Annerose and his wife were saying. “If you like,” Annerose said. She had no idea what the custom for gifts was, and she didn’t want to make a misstep.

Hortence smiled at her warmly, then delicately unwrapped the package, revealing an embroidered baby blanket in shades of peacock greens and blues, decorated with a motif of little figures dancing in a ring, underneath a sky studded with starry constellations. It was quilted, made up of little squares, each with a figure or constellation or decorative motif on it. Making each of the little squares had been her train ride entertainment for the summer thus far. Hortence gasped and held it up. “You made this?” Annerose nodded. “I’m so sorry, I realize I don’t even know your first name to thank you properly.”

“Annerose,” she said, blushing at the thanks.

“This is beautiful, Annerose,” Hortence said. “You shouldn’t have.”

“What’s all this fuss?” Cazerne asked, apparently done talking to Reinhard.

“Look what your cadet made for the baby,” Hortense said, holding up the blanket. “Always going on and on about Cadet von Müsel this, Cadet von Müsel that, and you never once told me she was an artist. Shame on you.”

Annerose averted her eyes, very embarrassed by the attention. “It’s really nothing,” Annerose said. “But I’m glad you like it.”

“‘Nothing’, she says.” Hortence shook her head. “How about we come into the dining room. I made dinner.”

“Let me see what you made,” Cazerne said. Hortense handed him the blanket as she walked out, leading them into the dining room. “Excellent work, von Müsel. Good quality construction, flame retardant fabric, regulation sizing, not a thread out of place.” He was joking, of course.

“I’m glad it meets your standards, sir,” Annerose said with a smile.

“Hmph, a supply officer to the last. Can’t appreciate the finer things in life,” Hortense said, vanishing into the kitchen. “It’s a wonder I married him.”

“Please, take a seat,” Cazerne said, gesturing to the set table. “Was the train ride in difficult?”

“No, not at all,” Annerose said. “Barely longer than my usual commute.”

“That’s good, that’s good.”

Hortense emerged from the kitchen, bearing a tray of food, which she set down on the table. “Do you want any help?” Annerose asked.

“No, no, I’ve got it,” she said. “You are sweet, though.”

“No alcohol, today, I’m afraid,” Cazerne said. He nodded at Reinhard. “Since you’re underage, and Hortense isn’t supposed to drink.”

“That’s fine, sir,” Annerose said. “How much longer is it going to be until the baby’s born?”

“I’m thirty-eight weeks, now,” Hortense said as she brought in the drinks and remainder of the food. “But if I make it all the way to forty, I’ll consider it a miracle. Though, on the other hand, it might be a blessing if it comes early.”

“I continue to hope that she’ll make it to the end of the summer, so I don’t risk abandoning you,” Cazerne said.

“Don’t worry on my behalf,” Annerose said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“It would be a terrible end to your summer,” he said.

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Reinhard asked.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Hortense said as she served the food. “If it’s a boy, we’ll call him John, after Alex’s father, and if it’s a girl, Charlotte, after my mother.”

“Those are good names,” Reinhard said. “And thank you for dinner, this looks delicious.”

“You’re welcome,” Hortense said with a smile. Reinhard had his most charming expression on, which Annerose appreciated.

“It’s good to have names picked out already,” Annerose said.

“Did you think that we would leave that up to the last minute?” Cazerne asked. “If you did, you clearly don’t know me very well.”

“Not learning if it was going to be a boy or girl is the only spontaneity I could introduce into the equation,” Hortense said.

“That, and not being able to schedule when it will happen,” Cazerne said. “It’s a very messy business.”

“It will be over soon enough, dear,” Hortense said. “Besides, it’s just like you to plan everything out and then not have to do any of the work yourself.”

He laughed at that. “Perhaps it is.”

“But enough about that,” Hortense said. “I feel like I’ve been hearing so much about you two over the summer that I already know you.”

“You’ve been hearing about me?” Reinhard asked, surprised. “Only the good parts, I hope.”

“My husband comes home every night and tells me an exhaustive list of everything that happened in his day, which by necessity involves everything that happened in yours,” she said, nodding at Annerose. “‘Cadet von Müsel did an excellent job with the requisition for new kitchen equipment on the Saratoga’, ‘Cadet von Müsel salvaged the huge vendor mishap with the furniture order’, ‘Cadet von Müsel put together an excellent proposal for the Rio Grande-Class radio upgrades’, ‘Cadet von Müsel solved the mystery of the missing munitions’, et cetera.”

“Well, I try,” Annerose said.

“Anyway, I also know that you eat lunch together, and he tells me, ‘You know, Cadet von Müsel told me the most amusing anecdote about her brother learning how to light a campfire’, or ‘Cadet von Müsel told me about how her brother’s writing was cited in the Thernusen Times economics section’. All very interesting things, which painted quite a picture in my mind. I had assumed you were her older brother, though.”

“I’m glad to hear that only positive reports made it through,” Reinhard said. “There are worse things in the world than being thought of as older than I am.”

“Are the two of you twins?” Hortense asked. “You look almost identical.”

Annerose laughed. “No, Reinhard is five years younger than I am.”

“Five years!” Even Cazerne seemed shocked by this. “I read some of your writing. I hope you don’t take offense to me saying it’s not exactly what I would have expected from a fourteen year old.”

“None taken at all,” Reinhard said, though he looked askance at Annerose.

“Am I not allowed to tell everyone how wonderful you are?” Annerose asked.

Reinhard smiled a little. “I suppose you all understand that there’s a reason I don’t keep my writing attached to my real name.”

“Certainly.” Cazerne studied him. “Though it might be to your benefit, if you did.”

“It’s really just a way to pass the time,” Reinhard said. “I don’t plan to make a name for myself as an economist.”

“You’d do well at it.”

“Reinhard also wants to join the fleet,” Annerose said. “Perhaps in three years you can have him as your intern.”

“That might smack a little too much of favoritism,” Cazerne said. “It’s a shame, because you’ve truly spoiled me to other interns in the future. I’ve never had one as good as you, and I doubt I will again. But I can’t even request you back a second time.”

“I’m glad to hear that you would want me back,” Annerose said. “And I’m disappointed that it’s not to be.”

“It will be good to get experience somewhere else,” Hortense said. “The whole point is to broaden your horizons, isn’t it?”

“I believe that the point is to make professional connections,” Cazerne said. “Which I think you’ve succeeded at.” He paused for a moment to eat some of his dinner. “Where would you like to end up, next summer?” he asked Annerose. “I can probably arrange you to go wherever you like.”

“I’m happy with anything,” Annerose said. “Though since you said that I’ve already succeeded at the goals for the internship, perhaps I should let someone else take my spot next year.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cazerne said. “Would you like to be on a ship? Those are sought after positions. I can probably arrange that.”

“I wouldn’t be able to live at home,” Annerose said, glancing at Reinhard.

“And you’re not at home most of the year anyway, so it hardly makes a difference,” Reinhard said, trying not to appear possessive. “Take the best position you can get.”

“No need to be hasty,” Hortense said. “I can understand wanting to be home with your family over the summer. Take some time to think about it.”

Annerose smiled at her. “I will,” she said.

“Regardless of what you’re doing over the next few summers, when you graduate, I’m going to put in a request for you to join my staff. It’s easier to move real soldiers where I need them to go than it is to move students.”

“So, you are using your position for personal enrichment, after all,” Annerose said with a smile.

Cazerne laughed. “It’s for the benefit of the entire Fleet that I have subordinates that can be relied upon. I’d hardly call that personal enrichment.”

“You’ll have to get in line,” Reinhard said idly. “It seems like everyone who meets Annerose wants her to join their staff.”

“Oh, really? Who’s made you another offer?”

Annerose flushed. “My boyfriend told me that I should go join his unit when I graduate.”

“Now, it’s funny,” Hortense said. “I’ve heard day and night about you and your brother, but never once about your boyfriend.”

She was uncomfortable with this line of conversation but kept her face pleasant. Reinhard smiled, clearly feeling as though he was winning. She wished he hadn’t brought up the subject. “He was a senior this year,” Annerose said. “Walter von Schenkopp. He’s in the Rosen Ritter now.”

“I find it hard to picture you swinging an axe around,” Hortense said.

“Actually, she’s quite good at it,” Reinhard admitted. It was not quite grudging, the tone in his voice. As usual, Annerose didn’t know if she wanted to hit him or hug him. He was convinced that she was the most wonderful creature in the universe, completely faultless and also perfect at everything that she did, but he had no desire for her to join Schenkopp in the Rosen Ritter.

“I keep forgetting you’re a former imperial. How old were you when you came here?” Cazerne asked.

“I was fifteen,” Annerose said.

“That must have been a big adjustment,” Hortense said. “Do you like it here?”

“Oh, yes. Very much so.” She paused and took a sip of her drink. “It’s very different, but… I think I’m happier here than I ever would have been in the Empire. Personal happiness isn’t everything, of course, but I’m very grateful to the Alliance for providing me a chance to have it, regardless.”

All three of the other people looked at her with different expressions. Cazerne seemed to be visibly changing his opinion on her, different gears slipping into place in his brain. Hortense had an expression of concern and pity on her face, especially when she saw Reinhard’s intense and protective posture.

“And you, Reinhard?” Cazerne asked. “Are you glad to be here?”

“I’m glad for Annerose’s sake,” he said. “And the Empire is rotten to the core, so I’m glad for that reason, as well.”

“But there are reasons you’re not glad?”

“I left more behind than Annerose did,” Reinhard said. His hand went to the locket under his shirt. “But I don’t want to go back, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It would be rude of me to insinuate as much,” Cazerne said. “I’m always just curious about former imperials. The Rosen Ritter is an odd group.”

“I know,” Annerose said. “I expressed the same sentiment when Schenkopp said that was where he was headed. But he said he would fit in there better than he would anywhere else, and I have no reason to mistrust that.”

“And where do you anticipate that you’ll fit best?”

“I don’t know,” Annerose said. “I told you once that I simply want to be useful. Wherever I could be of most use is where I want to go.”

“I find it hard to believe that that could be on the front lines wielding an axe,” Hortense said. “So I hope that my husband is able to snag you up.”

“I have no idea what the future will look like,” Annerose said. “Or what I’ll want in a few years when I graduate. It’s impossible to predict, and even less possible for me to control.”

“That’s true,” Cazerne said. “Maybe it’s one of those things that’s not worth worrying about over dinner.”

They spoke of less fraught topics, then, with Cazerne asking Reinhard about how he had developed his interest in economics. Reinhard told him that it was less of an interest in economics than it was in figuring out the way the world worked. Annerose knew that was a simplification at best, but Cazerne accepted it. When Reinhard asked about the process the fleet went through for choosing vendors and budgeting, Cazerne was all too happy to speak at length.

“If you want to do what I do,” Cazerne said at one point, “you should join the engineering program at the academy. It tends to produce students with a broader perspective than those in the administrative track. I wrote a thesis on systems engineering that gave me a foot in the door. Was hoping to do a doctoral program at some point, but then I realized that I enjoyed real work more than I enjoyed academia, so I didn’t end up going back.”

“I understand,” Annerose said. “I haven’t declared my track yet.”

“You have to before the next school year starts, don’t you?”

Annerose nodded. “I was thinking of going into the administrative track, but--”

“You’re at the top of your class,” Reinhard said. “Tell her that she should take advantage of that and go into the strategy department.”

“You have an interest in strategy?” Cazerne asked.

“I don’t know,” Annerose said. “I have an interest in going where I can make most use of myself.”

Hortense sighed. “Incorrigible, the lot of you. Go with strategy if you want to look valuable, go with engineering if you want to learn things, and go with administration if you want to go where every other woman student goes. No reason to make a fuss about it.”

This caused Cazerne and Reinhard to start arguing amicably for the merits of their preferred choices, while Hortense and Annerose glanced at each other with amusement. “Boys,” Hortense mouthed, and Annerose smiled.

After dinner, Reinhard and Cazerne went together into the living room, Cazerne setting up a chess game. Annerose stayed behind in the dining room to help Hortense clear up.

“I really can’t thank you enough for your gift, Annerose,” Hortense said, picking up plates as Annerose gathered the glasses.

“I’m glad you like it. I always have a project going, and I just worked on it during my train ride, so it really was no extra effort at all. I hope the baby approves.”

“You don’t know how valuable you’ve been to my husband this summer.” She put some dishes in the dishwasher. “He might seem very busy to you right now, but you’ve picked up so much of his workload, it’s unbelievable. Really has taken a load off my mind, with everything else going on, to have him able to spare a few seconds and relax every once in a while.”

“I’m glad I could be helpful.”

“Do you actually want to go to the front lines?” Hortense asked. “You seem like you do.”

“Am I that obvious?” Annerose asked. “I don’t know. It’s not the front lines that are appealing to me.”

“Love does make us do crazy things,” Hortense said.

“There are a lot of factors at play,” Annerose said. “Reinhard is ambitious. I want to be ambitious for his sake.”

“It’s nice that you want to look out for your brother. He seems…” Hortense trailed off, glancing behind her through the doorway into the living room, where Reinhard was biting his finger as he considered his next move in the chess game. “Well, there’s nothing I could say that would be anything other than a first impression.”

“You like him, though?”

“Oh, yes,” Hortense said. “Maybe against my better judgement.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s quite charming,” she said. “I’m always suspicious of people who are.”

“He’s on his best behavior right now,” Annerose said with a smile. “He still has all the usual flaws of fourteen year old boys.”

“Does he?” She wiped her hands on the kitchen towel. “He seems both mature and intense. And maybe too pretty for his own good.”

“It’s better for him to be too pretty than it is for me,” Annerose said, though she regretted it immediately when Hortense stopped what she was doing and turned to her, voice very low, and laid her hand on Annerose’s arm.

“Did something happen to you, Annerose? At work? Or school?”

“No,” Annerose said, and smiled at her gratefully. “I was just thinking of something that happened a long time ago, when I was Reinhard’s age.” When Hortense’s fingers tightened on her arm slightly, Annerose said, “But nothing really happened; please, don’t worry.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am. You could hear the story, one day, but it’s not really pleasant after dinner talk. I don’t want to upset you.”

“As long as you’re alright.”

“I am. But I really appreciate--”

Hortense nodded. “If anything ever does happen, you come to me, okay?”

“Thank you,” Annerose said. She smiled a little. Although she had been feeling fine before, this momentary change in the conversation had left her off balance. She wished she hadn’t made her comment, but she had felt so at home with the Cazernes, it had just come out. She glanced through the doorway at Reinhard, making a move in the chess game. He really did look like her, several years ago, especially with his hair done like it was. They even shared some of the same mannerisms from spending all their time together-- they moved in the same ways. She watched him, and thought about how someone else had watched her and decided she was an object for the taking. It repulsed her now, much more than it had then. She remembered feeling terrified out of her wits, when her father had told her the news, but she had been ready to accept it. Looking at Reinhard, a child, she felt sick to her stomach. The same thing wouldn’t happen to him, of course, but imagining it was enough.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hortense asked, seeing the change on Annerose’s face.

“He really does look just like I did, when we escaped Odin,” she said, then turned away, putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and signalling an end to the line of questioning. Hortense nodded.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“I would love some, thank you.”

They stayed for a while longer at the Cazernes’ house, having an enjoyable evening. Cazerne won the first game of chess against Reinhard, and then Reinhard had demanded a rematch, which he then won. Annerose knew that he was making a good impression on her boss, because Cazerne said as much when Reinhard stepped out for a moment.

“It’s rare to see so much talent in one family,” Cazerne said. “I’m glad that you and your brother both seem to be willing to put it to good use.”

“I’ll say that he wishes he could be putting it to use now. He hates being bored.”

“Is he bored tonight? I’ve been told that I’m quite dry company.”

“Who told you that?” Annerose asked. “I think the evening has been lovely.”

“I believe it was my superior officer, several years ago,” Cazerne said with a smile. “I don’t think we understood each other at all.”

“You have a unique sense of humor, dear,” Hortense said. She turned towards Annerose. “I’m glad you get along with him. Two summers ago, he called me up every night telling me how much he hoped his cadet would encounter grave misfortune on his ride home.”

“I don’t think I ever said any such thing,” Cazerne protested.

“I can’t believe your excellent memory is failing you.”

“Maybe I’ve blocked the incident out of my mind.”

At the end of the night, Cazerne offered to drive Reinhard and Annerose back to the train station, so that they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark. When they pulled up outside of it, Annerose said, “Thank you again for having us over for dinner, sir. I had a wonderful time.”

“You should really thank Hortense. She wanted to meet you.”

“I am glad that I got the opportunity.”

“And it was good to meet you, Reinhard. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to keep doing well in school so you can attend the academy.”

“You don’t have to remind me, but I appreciate it anyway,” Reinhard said, shaking Cazerne’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you around again at some point,” Cazerne said. “Cadet von Müsel, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“As always, sir.”

On the Wednesday of the last week of her internship, Annerose showed up to Commander Cazerne’s office, knocked on the door as she usually did, and got no response. Figuring he might be out getting himself a cup of coffee, she then unlocked the door with her own key. The office was dark and empty, and Annerose knew immediately that Cazerne had not come in yet this morning. That meant he was either running late, or, more likely, since she had never seen him late to anything, his wife was busy giving birth.

This was, to say the least, inconvenient. He was supposed to have a meeting at ten with the general admiralty of the sixth fleet, to go over, well, basically everything that they would need for their upcoming deployment. Cazerne had prepared Lieutenant Kratow to run the meeting in his absence, in an emergency, but when Annerose went down the hall to Kratow’s office to find him, he was gone. It was a bit of a conundrum. Annerose didn’t have the ability to order anyone else to give the presentation, and besides, nobody else knew anything about it. Annerose had been the one to put together the slide deck, so she was well versed in what the meeting would cover. She sent a message to Cazerne, asking what she should do, but she received no response, which didn’t surprise her.

Annerose was not the type to panic, nor was she the type to shirk responsibility. So, she took a deep breath, and then began preparing her materials to give the presentation. As she was doing this, Cazerne’s desk phone rang. She answered it.

“Hello, this is Cadet von Müsel,” she said. “Commander Cazerne isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?”

“Oh, von Müsel, thank goodness you’re there. I’ve been trying to get in touch with anyone all morning.” This was Lt. Kratow.

“I think Commander Cazerne’s wife is having her baby,” Annerose said. “Where are you, though?”

“When I got in this morning, I had a message waiting for me that-- you know that company we contracted to fill the emergency order of medical supplies for Rear Admiral Traung?”

“Yeah, Chiraq Medical, or something, wasn’t it?”

“That’s the one. They’ve got their shipping trucks sitting down at the airfield, but they’re refusing to let us unload. Claim they haven’t been paid. I’m down there with them now, and I just talked to the guy in charge-- Michael, uh, Spier, and he says that he was supposed to get a payment this morning for the delivery, but it hasn’t come through.”

Annerose bit her lip. “Those need to be on board by the end of the day, right?”

“They should have been on board yesterday, but it got delayed. Traung is leaving at four, supplies or no supplies.”

“Gods above,” Annerose said. “Okay. I’ll investigate what’s going on with the money. Can you at least make sure that they don’t leave?”

“Who, Traung?”

“No, the supply people. I don’t think you could stop Traung from leaving even if you blockaded the entrance to his ship.”

“I’ll do my best. Any idea when you will have an update for me on the money?”

“It won’t be until after eleven, at least. I have to give that presentation to the sixth--”

“Jesus, I forgot all about that! I was supposed to handle it if --”

“It’s fine,” Annerose lied. “I’ve got it under control. You won’t get back from the airfield in time to deal with it. I can do the meeting.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t have much of a choice.”

“I could tell someone else to do it.”

“Nobody else even knows the presentation. It’s better if I just do it,” Annerose said.

“If you say so.” The cringe in Kratow’s voice was audible. “Ugh, I’ve gotta go, the supply people are calling me again. Let me know as soon as you have any information about the money.”

“I will,” Annerose said. “Please don’t let them leave.”

“I won’t. Good luck with the sixth fleet,” Kratow said, then hung up before Annerose could even respond.

This day was quickly headed into nightmarish territory. Annerose had been through a lot worse in her twenty years of life than just organizational chaos, though, so she finished preparing for the meeting, then spent about a half hour trying to solve the money mystery. She hadn’t made much headway before she had to go run the sixth fleet’s meeting, but she put the issue out of her mind and focused.

She arrived at the meeting room early, so that she could set up and prepare herself, which meant unfortunately that every person entered, took a look at her student uniform, and then ignored her. The conference room, which had a long table with about fifteen seats, eventually filled up with high ranking members of the sixth fleet, talking among themselves. Annerose pulled up the beginning slides of the presentation on the display, then waited quietly near the front of the room until the time was exactly ten o’clock. Everyone was completely ignoring her, though she heard Admiral Lobos asking the man sitting next to him when Cazerne was going to show up.

Annerose took a deep breath and addressed the room. “Excuse me, sirs,” she said, trying to project confidence and politeness in her tone. “It’s ten o’clock, so if you like, we can get started.”

There was a general sound of confusion from the room. She had at least succeeded in getting everyone’s attention. Vice Admiral Moore spoke up. “I was given the impression that Commander Cazerne was going to be running this meeting.”

“Commander Cazerne’s wife is having her baby, sir,” Annerose said, which was speculation on her part, but it was the most reasonable explanation. “His alternate, Lieutenant Kratow is dealing with an emergent situation regarding the fifth fleet’s deployment, so I am prepared to give the presentation in their absence.”

“And you are?”

“Cadet von Müsel, sir,” Annerose said. “I’ve been working under Commander Cazerne as part of the Student Officer Training Program this summer.”

Admiral Lobos looked around with a resigned expression. “Should we call this a wash and reschedule? I have things that need to be discussed with Cazerne.”

“I don’t want to waste any more of my time than absolutely necessary,” Moore said. “Cadet, when is Cazerne going to be back?”

“I couldn’t say, sir. I believe he was intending to use some of his family leave, but I don’t think he was able to schedule it in advance.”

“Great.” Moore frowned. “When did you want to reschedule to?” he asked Lobos. “Because if it’s going to be more than a couple weeks, that will be a problem.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind me saying, I believe that Commander Cazerne would prefer if you kept to the original schedule, so that the procurement process can get underway as quickly as possible,” Annerose said. “I am happy to run the meeting, and to pass on anything you have for Commander Cazerne.”

“I don’t really give a damn what Cazerne, who isn’t here, prefers,” Moore said.

“Vice Admiral, you could be more polite when a lady is in the room,” Commodore Chen said from down at the end of the table. “We’re all already here. I don’t see the point in clearing some nebulous future date in our schedules if we can just get this over with.”

There was general agreement with Chen from the other staff assembled at the table. Lobos looked at Annerose, somewhat dismissively, and said, “Cadet, be honest, because if you don’t, you’re wasting all of our time: do you actually have the ability to conduct this meeting?”

“Yes, sir,” Annerose said.

Lobos narrowed his eyes, then glanced around the table. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

Annerose smiled. “Thank you, sir.” She turned and glanced at the slide displayed behind her. “There are three main topics that we need to cover here: routine resupply and maintenance before your next deployment, test equipment installation and experimental upgrades, and emergent needs. We’ll cover the routine things fairly quickly so as not to waste time…”

Annerose kept herself calm, pleasant, and professional through the whole meeting, running through the slide deck without incident. By the end of it, everyone seemed to have forgotten that she was not Commander Cazerne, and they asked her a wide variety of different questions, most of which Annerose was able to answer quickly and to their satisfaction. They also made a huge variety of demands, all of which she wrote down for Cazerne to deal with, and tried to assuage their concerns. She was already making a mental list of how she would go about dealing with all the issues the admirals were bringing up, but then she remembered that she was going to be leaving in two days, so she sadly started tacking on to her answers, “Commander Cazerne will handle that by…”

She tried to hustle the meeting along, glancing up at the time occasionally, since even beyond this meeting, she still had to solve the money problem that Kratow was out mitigating.

At the end of the meeting, as everyone was filing out and Annerose was shutting down the display, Lobos said, “Decent job, cadet.”

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. He left without saying anything else, which wasn’t that surprising. She hadn’t expected anything, so she tried not to let her ego get out of control with any recognition at all.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it, which was enough of a damper of ego as anything, and she put on her most resolute expression and marched her way all the way downstairs, into the sub-basements of the building, to where the accounting offices were. There, she spent a very miserable time going from desk to desk, trying to figure out where the money had gone, each time trying to convince the person she was speaking to that yes, she was responsible for doing this on Commander Cazerne’s behalf; and yes, it was an emergency; and yes, she needed THAT much money; and yes, she could put them on the phone with Lieutenant Kratow, but that wouldn’t do them any good whatsoever; and yes, she had already checked the disbursement boards to see if the funding just hadn’t been released yet.

Even Annerose, who had endless patience, found her patience wearing quite thin, as the clock ticked further past noon. She needed this task done, and she needed it done immediately. She finally ended up at the desk of Lieutenant-Commander Sanchez, whom she had at least met in the past. Annerose was at her wits end, and she said, “Sir, if you cannot get the money released from whatever stasis it’s in, I am going to have to call Rear Admiral Traung and have you explain to him why exactly his ships need to launch without the supplies sitting right there on the airfield tarmac.”

“I do believe you’re bluffing, Cadet von Müsel,” Sanchez said. “The money was frozen because the fifth fleet’s head of medicine didn’t sign on the original order.”

“Then how did the supplies get ordered in the first place?” Annerose demanded.

“The mistake was only caught during last week’s audit, and I guess the message never got back up to Cazerne.”

“How do we fix this problem, sir?” Annerose asked, hoping that her cheeks weren’t too red. She felt about as angry as Reinhard sometimes got, and she was trying to keep her cool. Sanchez seemed unflustered, but Annerose felt like this whole thing was coming down on her head, and she needed to deal with it or risk disappointing everyone, but primarily Cazerne.

He drummed his fingers on the table. “I can fudge it if we call it a general supplies order rather than a medical order, but I need a signature.”

“Whose?”

“Anyone with authority in the fifth fleet.”

“Give me whatever paper needs to be signed. I’ll get somebody to sign off on it.”

Sanchez printed something out, circled a line in red pen, then handed the paper to Annerose. “Good luck.”

This was better than nothing. She had no idea who to get a signature from, so she stopped back at her desk in Cazerne’s office to consult the building directory. She called several people who were in the direct line of fire for this order: the medical chief, the fifth fleet’s chief supply officer, Rear Admiral Traung’s adjutant, then his second in command, then finally tried Traung himself. But she wasn’t able to get through to any of them, presumably because they were all imminently preparing to launch, and were busy.

She just needed somebody’s signature from the fifth fleet. Anybody’s.

Annerose decided on her last resort, someone who probably didn’t want to deal with whatever Traung’s supply issue was, but who was at least attached to the fifth fleet. Annerose marched herself down to Commodore Bucock’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he said.

Annerose entered and saluted sharply. Bucock was sitting behind his desk, drinking a cup of coffee. “Oh, Cadet von Müsel, what a surprise. I heard you caused quite a stir today.”

“I did?” she asked, momentarily surprised.

“My friend, Commodore Chen Kailong, said you were quite the presence in your meeting with the entire sixth fleet higher staff.”

“Oh, that,” Annerose said. “I was just trying to get through it, sir.”

He smiled. “Congratulations on getting through it, then. But that’s not what you came to see me about?”

“Yes, sorry, sir, this day has been one thing after another, since Commander Cazerne isn’t here.” She quickly explained the situation with the stranded medical supplies, then asked, “I know it’s an imposition to put your name on something that has nothing to do with you, but would you be able to sign off on the purchase order?”

Bucock rubbed his chin. “This will solve your problem?”

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Alright, let me see that,” he said. Annerose handed him the purchase order, and he pulled a pen from his desk drawer as he carefully read it over. “You’ll have to tell Commander Cazerne that both he and Traung owe me one.”

“I’m certain that they will both greatly appreciate the favor, sir. I certainly do.”

He chuckled a bit as he signed. “It’s nice to see you taking so much responsibility.”

“If I didn’t, I don’t know who would, sir,” Annerose said. “It seems that Commander Cazerne has made himself a little too vital.”

“He’s only getting more vital by the day,” Bucock said. “He’s due for a promotion soon, you know.”

“That will just be one more thing for me to congratulate him for.”

“Has the baby been born yet?” Bucock asked as he handed the paper back to her. Annerose looked it over to make sure that there wasn’t anything else that needed to be done.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t heard from him all day, which makes me nervous. I hope it’s going alright.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. His wife is a lovely woman. You should go deal with that, though, instead of standing here gossiping with an old man like me.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you again.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m sure I’ll see you around again, but enjoy your school year if I don’t see you before you leave, Cadet.”

Annerose smiled and saluted and headed out.

It took a little more effort still to get the medical supplies moving to where they needed to go, but they did get there, and by two o’clock, they were beginning to be loaded on board the ships that they needed to, and Annerose could finally relax a little. Not too much, because she still had to deal with all of her normal tasks, and people still kept coming in and out of Cazerne’s office, asking for things that she had to then deal with. But all of that was normal.

As she got ready to leave the office that night, her phone buzzed in her pocket: a message from Cazerne.

It was a picture of Hortense, exhausted looking in a hospital bed, holding the chubbiest baby Annerose had ever seen.

> Congratulations!!!!

> Everything is taken care of, sir.

> Though you owe Commodore Bucock a favor