There were a few things that never crossed Archer's mind when he decided to attend the Military Science Institute in Faylan.

As the youngest of 4 and having grown up in the farming colony on Faylan's moon, Archer's ambitions were always to get away as far as he could from home. Granted, his family was caring and his siblings his closest friends, but he always felt unsettled in the life that he saw in future.

Living on an adjacent farm to the one he grew up on, with a wife, a litter of kids, waking up at the crack of dawn to program drones and fix machines. To sow and harvest and till, every day except Sunday until he croaked.

No.

He did not want that life. In fact, he couldn't stand looking up at the brightly lit Faylan at night and wonder how annoying a life of always looking up would be. He sometimes swore that the light and noise from the main planet was enough to make one lose their mind. Naturally, that was all in his head, but his distaste for his live and lot was that intense.

So naturally, he devised a plan after years of daydreaming about his grand aspirations.

He's heard from his oldest brother, Wil, that a merchant ship's captain makes upwards of 150,000 credits a year. That is enough for him to not only buy a house on the main planet, but maybe even buy his own ship down the line.

Wil, who is 6 years older than Archer, left home at the age of 18 to serve in the League of Systems Navy and spent 4 years aboard a transport ship as an engine mechanic. When he was 22, Wil left the navy and promptly found a job as an engineer aboard a civilian transport ship.

It was during this period that Archer went to his brother for advice and told him about his aspirations. He couldn't really talk to his parents about it because he remembered how heated things got when Wil was first trying to tell them about his own plans.

Join the Navy, that's what Wil told him then. His logic was simple, the navy wil get you training and then after your contract is up, you can use that training to get a well-paying job in the civilian sector as he was. Wil was making 75,000 credits a year without bonuses and profit shares.

To the 16-year-old Archer, this was a beacon in the dark. He finally saw a way out. But unlike Wil, Archer was neither mechanically savvy, nor willing to go through 6 months of basic training which, per Wil's account, was the closest thing to hell he's ever experienced.

So, after hearing about Wil's new job and learning about the typical salary of a ship captain, Archer made a small adjustment to the plan. He would become a ship captain.

How to do that. Still join the navy like Wil suggested, but instead of enlisting, go to some military school, become an officer and then after your 8-year term, 4 in school and 4 in active duty on a cushy post, he can get a job on a civilian ship as an executive officer and work his way up to captain. Or he could win the lottery and buy a ship outright.

And so, here we stand, 6 years later, where the 22-year-old Archer is standing in a windowless office while an officer, a trio of blue stars adorning his chest, engrossed in the glow of a translucent spoke with a calm yet resolute voice:

"Like I said Lieutenant, you've been assigned to the 7th exploratory Fleet as a tactical officer. The orders you received are accurate and there is nothing anyone can do about it."

"That can't be right commander. Tactical officer wasn't even on my rank list. I specialized in logistics and management at the academy, how could I possibly be assigned as a tactical officer. Maybe there was a mix-up and I got switched with someone else by accident."

Archer was nearly hyperventilating, almost causing the single star on his chest to fall off as he pleaded with the seated officer. The officer looked up from his monitor with a frown before speaking in a resigned tone:

"Listen here Lieutenant. I wish there was something I could do. The best I can offer is to get you form 15-53, which is used for requesting a change of station. But that typically takes 12-15 months to process, and you are to report to the Decklan system where the 7th fleet is stationed in 5 days. There is nothing I, or anyone, can do at this point. I am sorry."

The clenching of Archers fist and jaw was almost audible as the officer typed a command into his monitor causing a whirling sound to come from his desk, presumable printing the form for Archer.

"Here you go. Please fill it out and submit it to your commanding officer, they'll have to endorse and send it off to fleet administration."

"There must be a mistake commander. Please check again."

Archer was still incredulous at the development of this whole thing. This was not part of the plan. He was on track to be a logistic or administrative officer in some office somewhere. Unlike his classmates who all competed for accolades and trophies as they took all the tactical courses, he focused on support and elective courses. There is no world at which someone can look at his transcripts and think tactical officer. The only tactical course he received a grade better than C in was History of Naval Battles and Technology and even then, that was because it was more history than tactics.

The frown on the commanders faces deepened as he stared intently at Archer before sighing an speaking in a mild tone:

"Lieutenant, I am going to give you your first lesson in the Navy so listen closely. We are all cogs in the machine that is the League Navy , we all have our place and role and often we are interchangeable."

Archer who seemed almost at the edge of a breakdown jolted and looked at the commander's face who continued:

"You can just as easily do my job as I can yours. That is just how the system is designed and for a good reason. Sometimes, however, an expensive cog ends up in a dirty or rough part of the machine. So why are you surprised when the power that be replace that expensive cog with a cheap one, after all, we are interchangeable."

Archer's eyes widened in shock. He's heard stories, whispers of minor nothings about those with either influence, wealth or connections using those exact advantages to receive preferential treatment. But those were always jokes, something like my father is admiral so I must be a rear admiral.

"Are you saying…"

Archer immediately snapped but was cut off by the stern voice of the commander.

" I am not saying anything. You've received your confirmation. You're dismissed Lieutenant."

Archer felt the words get stuck in his throat. He couldn't process what he was hearing but he also understood it intrinsically. His grandfather had a saying that he used it anytime he got annoyed or frustrated.

'only the poor and their children'

Archer remembered his sister, Jenna, once asking their grandfather what he meant by it. The only answer she got from the old man was to "fill the blank". Almost 13 years later and Archer finally understood his grandfather's words. It was only at this exact moment that Archer finally filled the blank.

"Only the poor and their children reside on moons and labor in the fields."

"Only the poor and their children enlist in the navy, seeking a path to prosperity."

"Only the poor and their children are dispatched to distant fleets, light-years removed."

"Only the poor and their children bear the burden of sacrifice, unto death."

There were indeed a few things that never crossed Archer's mind when he decided to attend the Military Science Institute in Faylan, first and foremost being his grandfather's words.