"The Trials were conceived as a rigorous and comprehensive evaluation system to identify the most capable and resilient individuals for service within the Stellar Command Force. Born out of necessity during the early days of space exploration, The Trials ensure that only those with exceptional skills, mental fortitude, and unwavering dedication are selected."
-- excerpt from "Forging the Future: The Trials and Their Legacy"
by Prime Li'orah
Riven Voss took a deep breath, letting the metallic smell of the recycled oxygen fill his lungs. He exhaled slowly to calm himself. His nerves were frayed, and he struggled to hold his hands still, nervous excitement flowing through him in waves. After two years of intense training and a week of mentally and physically brutal testing in The Trials, he was about to hear the results. What aptitudes had he shown? Would he be allowed a position on the bridge, in the warp drive, or would he be relegated to janitorial duty on the starships he had come to love from afar? Or perhaps something even worse?
*You've got this honey, we're rooting for you! - Mom and Dad* came the message across his implant. Somehow, his mother's instinct always gave her the best timing, knowing exactly when he needed encouragement. The message made him feel a bit better, a small smile tugging at his lips. He sent a mental command to dismiss the message, silenced all further notifications, and pressed the comms button to the right of the large gray door, holding his finger to be scanned.
After a short pause, an AI voice chimed, "Candidate Voss, you may enter."
He heard the pneumatic hiss of the lock disengaging and the door slipped open. Three sharp steps forward and a salute to the Council of Three. Known simply as "The Three" to most people, they were the highest-ranking Fleet Admirals in all of human-settled space, answering only to each other and the Prime.
"Candidate Voss, ID 1022486, reporting for results of The Trials," recited Riven, exceptionally glad that his voice didn't betray his nerves.
Silence filled the space for a moment as six steely eyes sat in judgment. The center member of the trio finally spoke, "Sit, Voss."
A simple black stool rose from an opening in the floor as the door behind Riven shut with a sharp click, followed by the sound of the pneumatic locks re-engaging. He sat on the stool as instructed, feeling sweat forming on his forehead. He endeavored to keep his back straight.
More silence, more judgment. Riven used the opportunity to take in the room. The table before The Three was a plain metal surface, featuring a plaque bearing the Stellar Command Force insignia: an image of Old Earth as it was before the Final World War, with early starships in orbit. White enameled letters at the top read "S.C.F." and along the bottom, "Prime Angelus," the name of the current Prime, the highest authority in human-settled space. The Three sat in black synth-leather chairs, plain and plush.
Riven's studies had taught him that a force field surrounded the table, a precaution in the event of a situation presented in the room going sour.
In the near-perfect silence that followed the echoes of Riven's footsteps, the faint rustle as the man on the left finally shifted forward to speak seemed monstrously loud. "Candidate Voss, you performed admirably during The Trials. Your record is filled with recommendations from your professors, and not a single disciplinary action has been filed against you," he said quietly, glancing at a tablet in his hand.
"Thank you, Sir," Riven blinked away his surprise, his heart racing. So sure that the reprimands for unruly in-lesson conduct would be included from his early days at the Academy before he truly dove into his studies, he was glad that they only looked at official reports.
Now the woman on the right spoke. Her voice was loud, firm, but slightly raspy. "You performed well in every category, and you excelled in the areas of Command, Flight Control, and Weapons Systems. We have determined that you would be well suited on the bridge of any vessel you may be assigned to."
"The question becomes," the man in the middle spoke without missing a beat, "What are your own personal goals? What brought you to the Academy and drove you to study so hard?"
Caught off guard by the question, he swallowed and cleared his throat to buy some time. All he could think about was how rarely anyone excelled in more than one category, let alone three at once. Before he had a chance to fully process and formulate a formal response, he heard himself saying, "I've always dreamt of life among the stars, exploring the universe and making discoveries. Sir," he added the title at the last second, realizing he had momentarily forgotten himself.
All three of the Admirals smiled at him, an amused gleam in their eyes. "I see," said the man in the middle, "Why would you like to do this?"
Riven sensed another test, one he couldn't have prepared for. Growing up in the hab ring around Old Earth, the son of a geologist and a steward, he had never imagined he would make it to the Academy, and never considered how he would fare in The Trials. As a child, Riven had always been fascinated by the starships darting in and out of the ring, watching them warp off to unknown sectors of space, wondering what adventures they were having.
"Well, Admiral, since I was a young boy I've had dreams of flying among the stars. Reading the reports of discoveries in solar systems hundreds or thousands of light years away, which bored most of my friends, never ceased to amaze me. Having even the smallest chance to be a part of one of these discoveries..." his voice trailed off, not sure if he was speaking too much.
The center Admiral set his tablet down and leaned forward, his hands steepled. "Voss, in all my years as part of the Stellar Command Force, I've witnessed incredibly few candidates score as highly as you, my own scores included. Your dreams could very well become a reality, and we'd like to give you the opportunity." He picked up his tablet and read over it for a moment before continuing. "I believe an assignment as Third Mate on the SCFS Aurora would be appropriate." He glanced at the other two Admirals, who both gave small, approving nods.
Unable to restrain himself, Riven gasped. After a few taps on the tablet, the HUD of Riven's implant activated and indicated his promotion from "Candidate" to "Third Mate." A string of SCF feeds appeared on the edge of his vision, previously classified feeds that he was now privy to. It was much more sudden, and a much higher rank, than he originally expected to gain. He also knew that everyone who was important to him would be watching his public profile, waiting for the moment the change occurred. Riven had just been granted the rank of the fourth highest officer on the flagship of the 51st Fleet.
He was nearly breathless as he exclaimed, "Sir, thank you! My stars, this is incredible!" A huge grin had spread across his face.
The woman, Admiral Vera—Riven suddenly remembered her name—looked a little surprised at his reaction but said nothing. The Admiral on the left, Admiral Jak, seemed visibly disappointed by Riven's outburst.
"Please maintain decorum, Mate Voss. You're now a ranking officer of Stellar Command, and you should act as such when in uniform. You will be forgiven this time, given the nature of the moment, but see that you celebrate at the appropriate time," he said sternly.
Riven swallowed hard, his smile fading. "Yes, sir, my apologies," he replied, regaining his composure.
Admiral Juno, the man in the center, rolled his eyes and turned to Admiral Jak. Riven didn't have a chance to dwell on their sudden change in demeanor before Juno spoke. "Calm down, Jak. I seem to recall you standing and cheering when you received your first assignment. This is a happy moment for this young man's career; he's due a little celebration."
As Jak turned red and averted his eyes, Juno turned his eyes back to Riven. "Jak might be a bit prickly about the rules, but he does have a point. You'd do well to comport yourself professionally while serving in any official capacity. It's rare for an unseasoned candidate to rise so high immediately, and will not go unnoticed. Humility will shield you from the ire of those who may not appreciate the fact. You should be proud and happy, sure, just remember who you are in the fleet from this point on," He sat back in his chair when he finished speaking and dropped his formal demeanor. "The Aurora is not set to deploy for another two weeks as final touches are made on board and she is made ready. This gives you the opportunity to take the customary leave between The Trials and your first deployment; however, it will have to be truncated to just a week to allow for familiarization with the vessel. I hope this won't be a problem for you?"
Do I have a choice? Riven nodded. "Absolutely not, Sir, I'll be ready to report promptly as required."
"Excellent. Our assistant, Ava, will see to your official swearing-in, assign you a new uniform as befits your rank, and provide you with your official report time and date. Enjoy your leave; you've certainly earned it, Mate Voss," Juno said. "Dismissed."
A shiver ran down his spine at hearing the title attached to his name. Riven stood as a small android entered through a door to the right of the Council of Three's table.
"Mate Voss, if you'd follow me, please," it said.
About three hours later, Riven stepped out in his new uniform, proudly bearing the SCFS Aurora insignia on his chest and a single stripe on his epaulets. He had been officially sworn in for a standard six-year contract, typical for officers who attended the Academy on government-funded scholarships. The salary he'd been granted was far beyond what he had ever imagined—more than his family would earn in a decade. Riding high, a sense of achievement and excitement coursed through him.
Outside the office where new officers finalized their assignments and completed the last of their paperwork waiting his best friend since childhood, Quinn Hawke. He still had to wear his uniform while in the Academy, but once he got to his family's apartment, he would be free to change into regular clothes. Riven noticed that Quinn wore the insignia of a helmsman on their epaulets, but didn't bear the insignia of a ship yet.
"You son of a bitch, I can't believe you immediately made officer!" Quinn exclaimed immediately, giving Riven a playful punch in the arm.
Riven opened his mouth to retort playfully when the gravity of his new role and his recent conversation with The Three abruptly resurfaced. Acutely aware of the watching cameras, he mentally checked himself. Speaking clearly enough for the microphones to pick up he said, "Helmsman Hawke, please address me in a manner befitting my rank and refrain from striking me." Lowering his voice, he added, "We can celebrate when we're off campus, fool."
Quinn's expression shifted from excitement to hurt, a flicker of confusion passing over their face before their gaze landed on the camera above Riven's head. They nodded sharply and straightened into a more formal posture.
"Right, I apologize, Mate Voss. I have a briefing to attend before my leave begins officially. May we meet at Rosie's tonight at 2000?" Quinn's tone held a forced formality, mocking the rigidity they were often chastised for lacking.
"Rosie's at 2000, I'll be there," Riven confirmed with a nod, his voice steady but his mind racing. It felt as though a shadow had fallen over their typical, easy camaraderie. He watched Quinn salute and turn away, hoping the awkwardness was just a temporary glitch in their friendship and not a permanent change.
Shifting his attention to his implants, he drafted a message to them immediately. *I'm sorry about that Q, I'm not sure how close they're watching me. I already had a semi-reprimand for being too excited about the assignment in the first place. Don't be mad please.* Riven sent the message, and the string of messages from his family reminded him to turn his notifications back on.
*Don't worry about it, I should have realized we'll have to act a little different now. No hard feelings, see you tonight.* came the response after a moment. The tone felt off, or was that just in Riven's head?
As Riven walked slowly through the upper hab ring towards his apartment, he responded to as many messages as he could. One caught his eye: a message from his on-again, off-again boyfriend, Elijah. It featured an overdone, cutesy video of a dancing cat with "CONGRATS" repeated at least a dozen times. He always did this after they fought, going over the top too in an attempt to make amends.
Their relationship had felt odd and forced since Riven accepted the scholarship to attend the Academy, though he could never pinpoint why. They originally met near the end of grade school and got together early on in high school and stayed together for years, even as Riven's time was consumed by his studies. During his two year tenure, Riven rarely felt happy to interact with him. He knew that something wasn't right but never had the emotional availability to address it. Now that he was facing extended absences and delayed communications due to the vast distances of space, Riven realized they needed to figure things out soon. Faster-than-light communication was possible, but it could take hours or days for a simple text to traverse the intervening distances, with pictures and videos taking exponentially longer.
*We just HAVE to celebrate tonight babe! I think I'm ready for it, heheheheheheh!* The standalone message popped up. His chest tightened and ice shot through his body at the implication. He suddenly recalled the night before entering the Academy, when Riven had drunkenly suggested they finally go all the way. Elijah had refused and gotten very upset, and they didn't speak for a week afterward.
Lost in his memories, Riven stopped moving which caused someone to walk right into his back and drop whatever they were carrying. There was a cacophony of shattering glass and metal clattering on metal.
"Oh, hell, I'm so sorry," Riven said as he turned around to help pick up the dropped objects the person had been carrying.
The man was already crouched, stacking a group of broken tablets on top of one another by the time Riven stooped down to help him. He had dark, curly hair that was longer on top and faded down the sides, and piercing blue eyes that Riven immediately assumed had to be augmented, and he wore an SCF officers uniform. The man's eyes twinkled as he took in Riven's uniform. "They'll raise just anyone up to Third now, huh?"
It was then that Riven noticed the three stripes on the man's epaulets, signifying the rank of Chief Mate, and he could just see the edge of a ship's insignia on his chest, still obscured as the man finished stacking the tablets. "Sir, I'm so sorry," Riven stammered, his cheeks heating. "I really didn't mean— I got this message, you see, it… well, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry I broke your tablets."
"Mate, don't worry, they were already broken. I like to fix them as a hobby; these were donated by the Academy," the man spoke with an ease that indicated experience calming people down. "How long have you been an officer?"
"Uh, a-about four hours, Sir," Riven mentally berated himself for stuttering again.
I hope my commanding officer doesn't look like him, I'll never get anything done.
The man burst out laughing, echoing around the blessedly empty corridor. A glare began to overtake Riven's features, trance broken, before the man composed himself and said, "Ah, well, congrats I suppose. How long have you been in the fleet?" His eyes flicked to the Aurora's insignia. "A promotion and a new ship? Lucky you!"
"I haven't been on any ship yet, I've just been informed that I passed The Trials today," Riven said, pleased his stutter didn't reappear. "I'm Voss, uh, Riven Voss, newly minted Third Mate of the Aurora. I start my familiarization next Tuesday at 0600."
The Chief Mate's mouth fell open and he stared for a moment. He hefted the tablets into his arm and rose to his full height. Only then could Riven finally make out the insignia on his chest.
This was the Chief Mate of the SCFS Aurora. His Chief Mate.
I'm doomed, Riven thought, wondering when lead had been placed in his stomach.
"Well, that'll make for an interesting maiden voyage. I'm Orion Blackwood, Chief Mate on the Aurora. It's nice to meet you, Voss," he offered his free hand accompanied by a very disarming smile.
I'm doomed. So, so, doomed, thought Riven as he shook the proffered hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Chief Blackwood, I look for—"
Orion immediately interrupted Riven, "Orion, please. We aren't aboard yet and I'm assuming you're off-duty. You can call me Orion."
Exercising a sudden boldness, he quipped, "Only if you'll call me Riven, Orion."
This elicited another laugh, not as full throated but full of warmth. Riven liked the sound, more than he should. "Deal, Riven. Look, these are heavy, so I should to go, but I'd love to celebrate your promotion and welcome you to the crew. Are you busy tonight?"
"Actually, yes, my friend and I planned to hit Rosie's for a few rounds," the increasing thump of his heart in his ears was becoming distracting.
"Rosie's! I've had some really good times at Rosie's, but you've got to step your game up for this, you've just become an officer! Tell you what, I'll shoot you a message with a much better venue for celebrating and meet you there. Bring your friends and don't worry, it's on me."
Orion turned and started walking away before Riven could respond—a man confident in his assertions. Unsure about the appropriateness of the situation but not wanting to make a poor first impression, Riven felt conflicted and slightly uneasy.
Are all officers this friendly with one another? He pondered the situation as he turned to continue his walk home.
There were no further incidents as Riven crossed the upper-tab ring and made his way towards the doorway to the mid-hab ring, which was very near to the apartment building he shared with his parents. As he entered the elevator in his building, he started to feel wary of what his mother might have planned for him. She had been suspiciously quiet since her initial congratulatory message. Having a penchant for going over the top for even the smallest occasions, and this certainly was no minor event, there was precedent for his concern.
Once the elevator door opened, dread coiled in his stomach. Smoke was drifting from the seam in the center where their seal had been broken for weeks.
Adrenaline surged through him as Riven sprang into action, sprinting towards the door and slamming the button to open it. He was surprised to find a fire extinguisher in his hand, unable to recall grabbing it. Just as he was about to activate the extinguisher, shouts of "Surprise!" erupted from inside the room.
What he had mistaken for smoke was actually synthetic fog, lazily rolling out of the now open door. In the scant three and a half hours since his promotion, his parents had transformed the small apartment into a festive party space.
Gathered around the coffee table in the center of the living room were his parents and most of his family, a few neighbors, and Quinn. In the center of the table was a huge sheet cake adorned with the words, "Congratulations Third Mate Riven Voss!"
Setting the fire extinguisher on the floor, Riven chided himself for his overreaction. "A briefing to attend, huh?" he joked at the approaching Quinn, returning their earlier playful punch before pulling them into a tight hug. "Congrats on helmsman, Q! That's so great!"
"Oh, hush, that's nothing compared to Third fucking Mate!" They gave Riven a playful shove with a grin. He turned to his parents, both of them smiling broadly while his mother had tears flowing down her face.
"Oh, honey, this is such wonderful news, I'm so proud of you! Congratulations!" she stepped forward and pulled Riven into a bear hug. Dr. Selene Voss was a slight woman, but years of traveling back and forth to Old Earth and working with the rocks down there had given her a hidden strength, meaning her hug left him breathless.
After a moment, Riven disengaged to breath before replying. "Thanks, ma! Admiral Juno told me he has rarely seen so many 'excel' ratings in The Trials and that I even outscored him," pride was evident in his voice as he spoke and his arms wrapped around her to return the hug properly. He gestured at the table with the cake and a bottle of some sort, and the decorations strewn about the living room. "How did you manage all this so quickly?"
"That's a mother's secret—just enjoy it. I've got your favorites: chocolate cake with butter cream frosting, and I even got a bottle of Mars Port for us!" she retrieved the bottle from the table as she spoke and held it before him.
Riven took the bottle, his eyes misting over with a mix of admonishment and deep affection. This bottle of wine, one of the finest in the entire Sol system and a personal favorite of his, represented at least a month of her wages. "Ma, you really shouldn't have. This is way too much," he spoke quietly, his voice catching slightly as he fought back tears, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness. He'd only ever had the wine once before, with his parents. Riven had never tasted anything so sweet and rich, before or since the celebratory dinner for his mom's promotion.
"Nonsense! You're worth ten times as much and this is definitely something to celebrate!" she exclaimed, taking the bottle back from him and heading to the kitchen to open it.
Riven's father stepped up next, much more reserved than his wife. He clapped him on the back, offering a few words of his own before finding a seat on the couch.
Over the course of the next few hours, Riven mingled with the guests, receiving warm congratulations and basking in the glow of affection from everyone. Throughout the party Riven found his thoughts drifting back to Orion. Was it a mistake agreeing to go to Elle's Lounge with him? They'd only just met, after all. Quinn had consented to the change of venue, but only on the condition that they could bring their partner.
Shortly after the party began, Riven's father received a notification that he needed to report to work the next morning, and excused himself to get some rest. Riven had never been as close to his father as he was to his mother, but there was no love lost for it. His father was a more hands-off kind of man, preferring to keep to himself and offer help and advice when requested. He had a strong, vibrant presence that seemed to fill a room when he was in it, but he could also stay very much out of the way when needed, which suited his line of work well. Adrian Voss worked as a private steward aboard space yachts for the wealthy, catering to their every whim. It paid well but was inconsistent and often had short notice, like this evening.
By the time the Mars Port was gone, Riven was feeling quite tipsy, relishing the chance to let loose after the grueling week of Trials. He felt a bit more like himself again and smiled. Tucked into a far corner of the room, he surveyed the party guests, gratitude that so many had shown up to congratulate him welling up within him.