Alek stood at the front of the room, behind a small metal podium on which rested a sweating pitcher of water and a single glass. His hands smoothed the edges along either side. He faced the seated board which was now down to Dean Albrecht and Professor Kleppinger. Michael Steiner sat in as Alek’s advocate, keeping the long process civil. Keeping his own counsel, Michael had also brought in Colonel Baumgarten who sat in stoic silence through the entire ordeal, his falcon-sharp gaze pinning Alek to the wall, missing nothing. Behind the board his parents sat in straight-backed chairs, having delayed their travels to support Alek through his review. Dad rarely blinked, his blue eyes fastened steadfastly on his son, offering silent encouragement. Mom spent more time studying the academic board, seemingly amused by the entire process. Neither showed any doubt as to the outcome, and Alek was grateful for the strength of their belief.
“Another question,” Kleppinger said, resting forward on his elbows. He looked down at Alek, a true accomplishment when seated. “Unless you need a moment to collect yourself.”
“I’m ready if you are,” Alek said. Kleppinger frowned.
Other instructors had arrived, asked their questions, and left satisfied. Kleppinger seemed to take this entire review personally. Alek remembered the professor’s surprise—and suspicion—when told that his student would be let back into class pending a full academic review. It hadn’t taken Kleppinger long to discover that Michael Steiner had gone to bat for Alek, vouchsafing his character and demanding the board prove Alek’s need to cheat.
“The boy’s own noteputer clipped under the table isn’t enough?” Michael had later told Alek of Kleppinger’s outrage. “His own fingerprints on it, and no one else’s I’m told.”
Convenient that three of Alek’s most serious on-campus enemies had worn gloves that day as part of their dress uniforms. He never once pointed a finger in their direction, though the broken lock discovered at his dorm room had argued part of his case for him.
“Is this question going to require another thirty minute answer?” Michael asked, glancing at the slender watch clipped to his wrist. “We do have a Spring Reception to ready ourselves for tonight.”
Kleppinger drew himself up haughtily. “Perhaps we should be more interested in the ethical fiber of our student body than a social event.”
“Quite right, quite right.” Michael nodded. “I’m sure the Archon will excuse our tardiness.” Michael did not go on at any length to remind the board members of his relation to the Archon. He didn’t have to. Dean Albrecht took a long look at his watch as well, a gesture certainly not missed by Kleppinger.
“Very well,” the Poli-Sci instructor conceded. “I’ll keep this one short.” He spread his hands over the table they all sat behind. “In the briefest answer possible, Alek, give me the founding political cause behind the last four decades of challenges from ronin Kurita samurai against Star League base champions.”
Identifying the political foundations for current troubles was never an easy task, and would open a debate more often than ever reaching a consensus. Alek, however, was not one to shirk a challenge. “The Reunification War,” he said at once. Then was quiet. He sipped from his water. Waited.
“I’ll ask you to elaborate somewhat,” Kleppinger said finally with great distaste.
Alek set the glass back on the podium. “When Michael Cameron assumed the First Lordship in 2649, one of his first challenges came from Tadeo Amaris and the Rim Worlds Republic. Amaris had begun expanding his armies at an alarming rate. This prompted First Lord Michael into signing, among other laws, Council Edict 2650, dictating the acceptable size of any non-Star League military force. House Kurita’s necessary downsizing of their army led to the ronin, or “masterless warriors” as they are called. Out of spite, under orders, or as a salve to their family honor, these ronin have been challenging Star League champions since 2681.”
“And this relates to The Reunification War, of the twenty-sixth century, how?” Dean Albrecht asked.
Alek sipped again from his water glass. “The specter of another Reunification War no doubt loomed over First Lord Michael’s decision to enact such military restriction in the first place.”
“You propose to know the mind of the First Lord?” Kleppinger waved a hand, dismissing such a claim. “Your psychological skills aside, this would still seem a tenuous tie between events.”
“‘The processes of cause and effect among political circumstance are often legion, and nebulous, until viewed from a historian’s perspective.’”
The professor scoffed. “Who said that?”
“Weldon Kleppinger, doctorate thesis, 2706.” Michael Steiner laughed out loud and Colonel Baumgarten dipped his head in a silent salute. Alek smiled. The academic gauntlet had been thrown down.
“And yet,” Kleppinger rebounded on the attack, “you assert contemporary rationale for the ronin’s activities. Spite. Honor.”
“And being under orders,” Alek reminded him, picking up his water glass. “But I never stated that these were contemporary issues. Even orders—if there were, passed through back channels—must have an historical context. These are the children and grandchildren of those who served under Leonard Kurita, who brought the Draconis Combine to the brink of war against the Star League in 2605.”
“Leonard’s Folly.” Kleppinger nodded. “He died of ‘mysterious illness’ though it seems likely that his replacement was engineered by…?”
“Siriwan McAllister-Kurita, after the seppuku of Leonard’s sister—”
“Elaine Kurita,” Kleppinger interrupted. Now the professor seemed to have something to prove. “She committed ritual suicide in shame for her brother’s actions. But Leonard was too far unbalanced by alcohol and drug dependence to care, and his paranoia following—”
“Following an incident that took place in the High Council, where Leonard attempted to assault the First Lord with a thrown bottle and instead struck a guard, who fired out of reflex, wounding the Coordinator.” Alek replaced his glass on the podium with a tired hand. “So we might as well say that the ronin challenges are all for the sake of a wayward bottle.”
“And
