To Forge a Queen
“How did you get things sorted out,” Jill asked.
“We finally got the older kids off to one side and the commander told the kids how it was going to be. He just told them that they would either cooperate or be put in the brig.
It worked but not as good as it should.”
“So what’s the solution,” Lady Hawthorne asked.
“You are looking at her.” The sergeant said pointing to Jill, “This young lady here has already made the right connections. She has gotten the kids trust. She enjoys your confidence, and more importantly the kids listen to her. These kids are in the brig, so to speak, so threatening them with that won’t work.”
“And I won’t tolerate anyone telling them they won’t be evacuated.” Deloris said.
“Okay Commander,” The sergeant turned to Jill, “what’s your plan?”
“Commander,” Jill said, “I’m just a kid.” The adults looked at each other sealing Jill’s fate.
###
The next morning, Marshal Wilson was working early in his palace office. He had gone to work earlier than usual as he had been planning to go out to where some of his people were working. He also wanted to see the clear cutting first hand. He had not intended to be in this early. He had been expecting to just go out to the landing pad after breakfast and hop the flight he had requested, but when Jill had come home the previous evening, and was so excited about what she had been doing. Telling both he and Lisa what she had found at the old boarding school he changed his plans. More so when he had found out what Lady Hawthorne wanted Jill to be. He had discussed it with Lisa after the kid had gone to bed. They both thought it wouldn’t be a bad thing for the girl to be involved with. Although he had reservations about turning the school into a military academy he knew that the kids needed some discipline in their lives, and caring adults. This could work and it helped get his commission done.
He was already working on part of the problem when Lady Hawthorne and the Queen stopped by.
“Marshal,” Lady Hawthorne and the Queen entered Wilson’s office.
“Good morning Ladies,” Wilson said glancing at the clock display on his terminal.
He was surprised how early it was. “What brings you here so early?” “We wanted to talk to you before you headed out this morning.” “Oh what about,” Wilson asked.
“We want to talk to you about your little angle.” Lady Hawthorne said mischievously.
“Now what has my little angel gone and done now? Abby is such a sweet child,” Mike asked innocently.
“We’re talking about your other angel,” the queen responded, “Jill!”
“That’s not an angel,” Michael replied, “That’s a teenager! They stop being an angel after about thirteen. Now what has she gone she done?”
“Oh just the usual over active teenage stuff that drove our parents’ nuts,” Lady Hawthorne continued.
“Huh, huh,” Mike leaned back in his chair as Liz turned to see what was going on. She knew what the Queen and the noble woman had in mind. She had been working with the Marshal to help make it happen. “Did she get into some trouble at the school I need to know about?”
“Oh tons of it,” Lady Hawthorne replied, “But we figured out a suitable punishment for her, we just need you to agree to it.”
“Oh no,” Michael said wondering how far the two women would take it.
“Enough Deloris,” The Queen said seeing that Wilson was enjoying the session and wasn’t being tormented or teased as they had hoped. He obviously knew what was going on.
“Okay your majesty,” Deloris answered then sat down in Wilson’s guest chair, “Sir Mike, your daughter connected with those kids like it was magic.” Lady Hawthorne continued, “I don’t know why; but it happened. After it was brought to our attention we had the school’s AI show us some of the holos that the School Mistress had recorded of Jill. Without a doubt she is your daughter. I showed the Queen the holos and she agreed with me that Jill should be our liaison to those kids.”
“Okay,” Wilson said, “but from what Jill said you guys thought of going another direction.”
“Yeah,” The Queen responded, “we are thinking about turning the orphanage into a military school or academy.”
“That’s what Jill had said,” Mike commented, “I think it’s a good idea but within reason. I don’t want any of those kids forced into it. I want it to be their decision. Then when those kids are not in school I might want to use them in our command posts, and some of our facilities. I think if they can be part of the operation we’ll help them feel wanted it might help them. Many of those kids have got to be having some hard feelings about being abandoned by their parents. Some of them have got to feel that they might be abandoned by us. But kids only ages 12 to 18.”
“What about the little kids?” Deloris asked, “We have to do something with them.”
“Not a big problem.” Mike said, “8 to 12 can be junior cadets. They won’t be able to be used at the places where the older kids will be but they can dream about being members of the cadet force. The real little kids there isn’t much we can do. We’ll have our hands full just trying to keep them under control.”
“Page,” the queen spoke. She had come to a decision earlier; but had wanted to see if her marshal would buy into it; he did.
“Yes majesty?” the AI appeared as a young girl of sixteen apparently dressed in the livery of the royal family. She looked like a royal page from ancient timews. “I am making a royal decree!” “Yes majesty,” the AI droned.
“As of this day, the old Trenaport Boarding School will become the Headquarters of the Queen’s Own Royal Corps of Cadets. Further children who are 12 to 18 of age; who have been abandoned by their families, or who are orphaned are eligible to become cadets of the Queen’s Own Royal Corps of Cadets.
“Children who don’t wish to be part of the corps of cadets will be housed at the boarding school; but will not be subject to the rules and regulations of the corps.
The Queen continue to speak after a few minutes of thought, “Children who reside in this institution are my wards until such a time they reach their age of majority, reunited with their families, or adopted.”
“Additionally,” the Queen said, “The first corps of cadets commander will be Jill Wilson. Then providing her mother agrees, and Lamile Atomi so desires, Lamile Atomi will be the corps deputy commander.”
Wilson nodded in full agreement.
“What am I missing,” The queen asked.
“Your majesty,” Liz asked “Why now, we’re about five months from getting off here, and the academy will be a short lived thing. Is there something better we can do for those kids?”
The Queen looked at Wilson’s secretary, understanding what the young woman was asking. “Yes, this might be too little and too late. But it will give those kids some hope and make them feel part of the solution and not part of the problem. Also right now, I am standing in as local parentis. As the highest governmental authority it is my responsibility to make sure those kids are taken care of. This is the only way I know how to do this!”
“Your Majesty,” Liz said seeing a flash of anger on her monarch’s face, she forgot that Wilson didn’t mind her challenging some of his decisions and had assumed that the Queen would not mind being challenged either. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure, like you that we get every last mother’s child off this world. I should have kept my mouth shut!”
“Liz,” The Queen said, “you don’t need to apologize. You were right to ask the same question that others would. It gives me a chance to formulate my answer.
“Computer,” The queen continued.
“Yes Ma’am?” the AI answered.
“Clean up that pronouncement and get it out.” The queen said, “I want you to add, that Lady Hawthorne, is reassigned as the school’s head mistress. She answers to me and to the marshal and no one else.”
“Your maje
sty,” Jonesy face appeared in the air over Wilson’s desk. Wilson had been working the other part of the problem with his Logistics Officer. “I have been working to get clothing to the academy. I found some extra uniforms aboard one of the Imperial Warships, the Stuart. That are being declared surplus. It should fit all but the smallest of the 12 year olds. They are marine uniforms of all types. Dress, office, battle, this includes boots, shoes, and belts. Seems the lieutenant in charge of the stores ordered too many. If you don’t mind your cadets looking like Imperial Marines, I think we can make it work.” “Is that going to be okay with the Princess? And the Empire?” the Queen asked.
“I’ve cleared it with their sergeant, and the lieutenant and they say it’s okay.” Jonesy said, “Sergeant Millie is happy to get rid of them. She says she has been tripping over them for three months! She said she would even get them delivered.” “Make it happen,” the Queen ordered.
“Yes ma’am,” Jonesy replied. Her face turned towards Marshal Wilson, “Do you want me to have them pull a set of uniforms for Miss Jill?
“Yes.” Michael answered after a moment of thought, “I’ll get Jill up to the Stuart so she can get outfitted. Liz, would you get a set of orders cut for Jill to go to the Stuart.
I’ll call up and let them know she’s on her way up.”
“Uh skipper,” Liz asked, “Wouldn’t it be better to do this at the academy or at your home?”
“No.” Mike said, “I want her to start thinking like a young officer, and then I think it’s better for the guys at school to see her arrive in uniform. It starts them thinking of her as an officer not just another kid.”
Liz nodded and turned to her desk to work on the Marshal’s request.
“Mike,” Aggie suddenly turned to her marshal and asked, “I guess I should have asked this earlier; but are you and Lisa okay with this? I know Jill is; but are you?”
“Yes,” Michael said, “it gives her something to do. Also the responsibility will be good for her. A lot of my youngest enlisted people were not too much older than Jill when they finished boot and were on their first assignment. I am concerned that we’re putting too much responsibility on her; but I am trusting you, and Deloris to make sure she is taken care of. I am more worried about losing Deloris than I am about letting Jill do this. Lady
H you have been a god send to my command!”
Lady Hawthorne was quiet as Wilson continued, “But those kids need you more than I do. And helping them gets my commission done. If you need anything let me know.” “That I will Marshal,” Lady Hawthorne replied.
“Thank you both,” The queen said, “I got to go. Mike I will see you after your visits. Lady Hawthorne, good luck.”
Both women left as Liz handed her boss a cup of coffee and the draft orders he had requested. He requested that the computer call his home, so he could inform Lisa of what had transpired.
###
An hour later, Jill was quietly woken by Lisa. Jill had gotten in late the night before and had told both of them what she had been up to. Lisa had decided not to wake the girl to let her get up on her own. However Mike had called and told her to get the girl up and to the palace landing pad. She had a date aboard the IWS Stuart, a fleet provisioning and resupply vessel. It was part of the Majestic’s Battle Group.
Jill and her step mother both took the trip to orbit with both of their principle agents. Lisa took her camera with her. They were escorted into an immense distribution room by a marine who was on his first deployment. Jill couldn’t help but wonder, did she look that young. The Stuart was designed to completely resupply troops that had been in combat for months and needed to be re-equipped with everything. It wasn’t uncommon for the distribution room to have a couple platoons of marines being outfitted at the same time.
They found a Master Gunnery Sergeant waiting for them.
“Good day Colonel Wilson,” The woman greeted Jill.
Jill gave her “a who me” look.
The Sergeant smiled at the confused girl and continued, “I am Sergeant Millie Green. I will be getting you outfitted today. When I tell you to, please stand on this dot,” she pointed to a green dot on the floor big enough to stand in, “and say your name clearly. Your ID number is zero, zero, zero one. Your grade is Cadet Colonel. Your rank is Commander, Queen’s Own Royal Corps of Cadets. When you say all of this, your dog tags will be created, which will include your DNA profile, with your other identification information.” The sergeant said softly, she had outfitted many marines, having started her career at Paris Island, the Marine training world. After she made Master Gunnery Sergeant she was transferred to the Stuart. This could be her last assignment. Her boys were getting to the age where they needed her around. More so with their father missing in action! If she couldn’t find a permanent party shore duty someplace she would consider leaving the marines. She was looking forward to the next few minutes though, as she had always enjoyed outfitting baby marines. While the girl in front of her was not a baby marine, she was the very first person in the unit that was being stood up. When she was sure the girl had understood her she said, “Please step on the green dot.”
Jill stepped onto the dot and spoke, “Jillian Wilson, zero, zero, zero one, Cadet Colonel, Commander, Queen’s Own Royal Corps of Cadets.”
“Scanning,” The expert system droned, “Gunny, Colonel Wilson’s uniforms will be in bin three. Will the colonel need space fatigues and weapons?”
“No,” Lisa said firmly, “She will not need weapons or space fatigues.” “Aw mom, you’re a spoil sport,” Jill chuckled.
“Colonel,” The sergeant asked, “what uniform will you need today?”
“Mom,” Jill asked, “any ideas?”
“Sergeant Green I am clueless any, idea?” Her step mother turned the nearly forty year old woman.
“May I suggest then that she wears just a plain day uniform?” the sergeant said, “Are you going into the field today?” Jill shook her head, “Okay then an office uniform should be suitable. Although everything will fit you, your new boots will need a little breaking in.” Without waiting for confirmation she went to bin three and pulled out a day uniform. “Normally we just hand you your stuff and say be gone with you. Not today. As the first cadet commander we need to make sure everything is perfect. Step into my office and put these on.” She handed the clothes to the younger woman and pointed to an open door with the sergeant’s name plate next to it, “They should fit but I want to make sure.” Jill took the clothing to the sergeant’s office and dressed. When she had gotten out of bed she had showered but had only thrown on a sweat suit. Lisa had said not to worry about the clothing. Just wear something comfortable. She was amazed and thankful that the bundle of clothing had included things like a bra, and panties, as well as socks. Everything fit perfectly. She couldn’t help but notice that everything had her name and grade on it. As she stepped out of the sergeant’s office her step mother took a couple of photos. The Sergeant approached the young woman and asked, “Permission to touch.”
“I guess so,” Jill replied, wondering why the older woman had asked that question.
“Colonel,” the sergeant said as she approached the young woman, “it’s important that you look perfect,” Lisa inwardly cringed when she hear that, “every time you address your troops or are seen by them. You can’t have a hair out place. Your gig line, (that’s the line of where the edges of the button flap on your blouse and the seam on the front of your trousers,) has to line up perfectly.” The sergeant competently made sure the young lady’s gig line was razor sharp, “you must always make sure your buttons and awards are perfect. Because you are in a marine uniform I am going to use the same placement as I would on my uniform.”
The sergeant opened a jewelry box and began placing the insignia on the uniform. She placed, a shield shaped device with a scarlet red crown on a field of space black with tiny jewels simulating the star system of Trena. In very fine lettering ar
ound the shield were the words “Queens Own Royal Corps of Cadets,” One on either collar. On the shoulder epaulette went two more crowns with an eagle under them. Over her right pocket was a name plate, it read Col. Wilson QORCC. “Colonel, in the jewelry box, are your ribbon holders. In a normal cadet unit or military unit by the time you reached this exalted rank you would have won several citations, and awards. But as this is a new unit, with you as its inaugural commander you have none so we’ll leave the left chest bare.”
She walked around the young girl who was almost the same age as the kids entering marine boot at Paris Island. She wanted to make sure that her uniform was perfect. She had always enjoyed getting young recruits their stuff. They hadn’t picked up an attitude when they were standing in her supply room at Paris Island Marine Corps Recruit Training Center. As she finished up she spoke to Jill, “Colonel, as you go forward from here, what you say and do sets the precedence for the corps of cadets. Your actions over the next couple of months will set the system and standard that your successors will follow.” She plucked a piece of lint off the epaulette, “Colonel, when it stops being fun get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Thank you sergeant,” Jill said took two steps back, and as she had seen her grandmother and father do on countless occasions, fired off a salute.
The sergeant snapped to attention and returned her salute. “Good luck colonel.” As the cadet and the Sergeant saluted each other, Lisa took several photographs. Years later they would hang in the academy on Home, in halls of the administrative building that had had photos and paintings of each cadet commander. Jill would be the youngest commander, and the one with the shortest tenure.
With that the women left. Jill pulling a fair sized duffle bag of her stuff behind her. Her agent went to help her; but the sergeant locked eyes with the agent and shook her head.