The young officer tried to fight down his nervousness as he waited for the secretary to call him into Admiral Thrawn's office. He also tried not to try to guess why he had been summoned. He found that that was not conducive to calm.
You, watching him on the camera from inside your office, couldn't know all that for sure. But you were fairly good at deducing such things from posture and body language. After all, the commander of the fleet of the Chiss Ascendancy had not been hard to fool, and the years had only honed the skills developed when you were young.
You decided you had watched him long enough and could put him out of his agony. You pressed the button, and a secretary told the boy he could enter.
You were sitting with your back to the door when he entered, but swiveled the seat around to face him. He stood stiffly at attention, still fighting with nervousness.
"No need to be nervous, Lieutenant." Your voice was calm, cultured, and smooth, any trace of accent carefully removed from it. By now your Basic, always good, was utterly flawless.
He seemed to relax slightly, though still at attention. "Sir?" he asked, trying to keep his voice expressionless. With anyone else, he might have succeeded, but such things did not slip by you easily.
You studied him carefully, as you have been doing for a long time. This boy had potential, and that was why he was here in your office today.
"I called you here to ask you a few questions," you told him. "Nothing to worry about," you added, as he looked frightened for a second, before hiding it. You paused for a moment, and the tension mounted in the room. Then you fired the missile. "What is the range of the tractor beam of a Star Destroyer?"
The question was elementary. Every midshipman knew that. Consequently he looked puzzled, but instead of answering, as everyone else did, when faced with that particular one, asked you another question of his own.
"Verdana- or Victory-class, sir?"
You smiled briefly. "Lieutenant Pellaeon, you have just been promoted to captain. The captain of this ship has your orders. Report to him immediately."
The look on his face was one of utter astonishment, but then he tried to regain his customary solemnity. "Thank you, sir," he said, with just a hint of excitement in his voice.
You fixed him with your eyes. "Always remember to keep in mind the past - and it's present possibilities."
He nodded. "Yes, sir."
"You may go."
When he was gone, you tapped the arm of your chair. Promotion. What every officer dreamed of. Midshipmen, lieutenants, captains, commodores. Even admirals.
When would it come to you?
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