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soft helmet, sword, hand repeater, plus our own mess kit.” He shuffled through the papers on his spartan desk, finding the appropriate one and handing it over to Gordanus. “Everything is under control. You still have two hours.”
    Alexandros went to his own dresser, removing the tunics and breaches he would need. He packed his two duffel bags carefully, the utilitarian canvas of the bags scratchy on his skin. After organizing his gear, he added in several additional personal mementos. A small sketch of his family, an award from the Roma Aeronautica Academia for his second place finish in the Winnowing Race, plus a small journal he saved various letters and other odds and ends in. All were packed and ready.
    Alexandros turned to look at Gordanus. The other boy was still struggling to fold his trousers properly.
    “Gah, I swear, Gord, I’m going to give up on you some day,” he said as he bent down to help.
    Gordanus looked sourly up at Alexandros. “If only they pressed these pants with less starch, they would be easier to fold.” Alexandros gave him a look. “I’m just saying what we all think,” Gordanus protested.
    Together, the two boys finished packing and straightened up the room to the high military standards as required by their floor supervisor, who popped his head in to pronounce it acceptable.
    They filed down the winding staircase. Roughly a third of the school followed in their footsteps as the upperclassmen prepared for their first flights as airship officers. Stopping at the front desk, they waited for the desk attendant to check their mailboxes. The attendant returned after a brief absence, delivering to each man a small, velvet bag with a drawstring cinched tight. The soft fabric seemed heavy in his hand, and both teenagers carefully opened the bags.
    Alexandros shook out a small gold-enameled pin cast in the laurel shape of the emperor’s crown. His fingers moved over the delicate pieces of its two laurel-leaf curves.
    “Rufius, what did you get?” Gordanus interjected, and Alexandros showed him the pin. “Wow, impressive! You’re on HMTS Imperio then. They must really have liked what they saw in you. It generally takes a wealthy or powerful family to get you onto His Majesty’s Training Ship Imperio . After all, it is the same one that Emperor Hadrian used just a few years ago when he went through training!”
    Alexandros nodded, taken aback at his selection. After a brief pause, he belatedly remembered his friend. “Where did you get assigned to?”
    Gordanus held out his own pin, smiling broadly. Alexandros took it, examining the small avian with its wings spread wide, claws open and ready to strike.
    “Vigilant Eagle, just like my dad!” The other boy was obviously excited by the chance to follow in his father’s footsteps, and it left Alexandros with a brief feeling of homesickness. He handed the pin back to Gordanus with a quick thanks, and they gathered up their belongs.
    “So, now we assemble into our crews I suppose?” he asked.
    “I guess so. Then I hear we’ll actually get to go down to the airfield and board the airships for the first time. This is awesome.” He looked sheepishly at Alexandros for a moment. “You don’t think I’m being overly enthusiastic, do you?” he asked, a note of worry in his voice.
    “Don’t worry about it, Gordanus. Seriously. But don’t talk like that to your other crewmembers. They might not be as excited as we are.”
    “You know, I’m almost sad that we’ll be competing against each other at some point. I mean, aren’t we supposed to work together in the end? We’ll all be on the same team.”
    Alexandros laughed. “That’s what they want you to think. But this is Rome. No one is on any team but their own.”
    The other boy nodded seriously. Checking the strap on his bag, Alexandros stepped out into courtyard. Already, groups of newly promoted cadets were assembling, the ramrod straight lines showing years of tough military