Lieutenant (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

midshipmen.  He felt defeated, but other than his pride, he was relieved.  He could go back to his previous rank where he belonged.  Other Marines would know he had failed, and that might affect his ability to lead Marines, but that couldn’t be helped.  Gunny Meader was a right royal dick, but he was correct.  Ryck wasn’t officer material.  He didn’t belong.
    Looking over the Severn River, he could see Bancroft Hall nestled between old, but still more modern buildings.  For hundreds of years, midshipmen had lived in that huge dormitory while the Academy molded the men (and women, for the bulk of its history) into the leaders of first the United States, and then the Federation.  How many midshipmen had slept, eaten, studied, and lived there?
    Ryck wasn’t an Academy mid.  He’d been appointed from the ranks.  Most Marine-appointed mids were like him.  Only a few spent the four years at the Academy proper.  There was a higher percentage of Navy officers who attended the Academy, but still, the majority were just like Ryck, appointed out of the ranks. 
    Phase 2, though, included the Academy mids training with the “peons.”  That gave Ryck a connection, tenuous as it might be, to the Academy.  Ryck could feel the history flow out from Bancroft Hall and seep over the Severn to the Naval Support Station.  He knew, though, that storied history would not include him.
    Ryck made his way to Alderman Hall, the headquarters for naval officer training.  It occupied a prime piece of real estate right on the Severn with views of the entire Academy, part of the city of Annapolis, and the Chesapeake Bay, with Maryland’s Eastern Shore a hazy shadow on the horizon.  A two-star blue flag flew beside the Federation’s black and silver—the blue flag indicating that the Commander, Officer Training Command was in the building.  Not that it mattered to Ryck.  He was so far down the pecking order that the great man would neither know nor care that Ryck was on his way out the door.
    Ryck walked through the main entrance, then up the main ladderwell one deck and to the right where midshipman training was developed and monitored.  The Academy itself had its own staff, to include a three-star superintendent, but the Midshipman Training Division technically even monitored the Academy. 
    Ryck made his way past the desks of the civilian staffers and few Navy ratings who kept the office humming and then to the left to where the training class staffs had their offices.  He spotted the placard “The Naval Officer Training Course” and walked through the open hatch.
    “Mr. Lysander,” the middle-aged woman at the desk greeted him.  “Please have a seat.  Captain Klein will call for you shortly.”
    Ryck took a seat, studying the woman who had returned to her screen and to whatever task she had been doing.  He’d never met her, and he was sure she’d never met him, but she recognized him.  Granted, she probably knew he was coming, but there were over a thousand mids going through courses at the time.
    The leather couch looked good, and it had a nice cushion, but it was slick.  Ryck kept sliding on the seat, and he had to keep hitching his butt back up.  He wondered if that was some sort of psychological tactic. 
    After at least 30 minutes, Master Guns Ghanaba walked in.
    “Grace, is he ready?” he asked the woman behind the desk.
    “Yes he is, Khofi.  You’re to go in first, then come back out to get Mr. Lysander,” she told him.
    The master guns didn’t even look at him before walking to his right and into a hatch with “59-2” identifying it as the office for the staff of Ryck’s class.  As the minutes dragged on, Ryck’s nerves got the better of him.  He had already accepted that he was getting the boot, but waiting for confirmation of that was excruciating.  Finally, the hatch opened back up and the master guns motioned him in.
    Ryck took a deep breath, and only hesitating a second, marched in