Which of these was used by the Mandalorian forces during the last century?”
And, “Cadet Candidate Solo, in what year did our glorious Emperor become President of the Imperial Senate? What historical event preceded his election?”
And, “Cadet Candidate Solo, if a Victory-class Star Destroyer leaves Imperial Center at the displayed time, and carries the mass and weight of armament, cargo, and troops, as displayed on this screen, which course and approach vector to the Daedalon system will produce the most fuel efficiency? Which course and approach vector will produce the best speed?
Be prepared to show the figures for your answer.”
And, “Cadet Candidate Solo, which battle of the Noolian Crisis brought about the liberation of the Bothan Sector? On what date was it fought?”
Worst of all, as far as Han was concerned, were the “cultural” questions.
Each cadet was expected to be an officer and a gentleman (or woman), and a certain amount of cultural acumen was required. Han sweated his way through questions such as, “Cadet Candidate Solo, I am going to play music from three different worlds. Please identify the planet of origin of each piece of music.”
Ironically, Han was much better at answering the art questions than the music ones. His background as a thief and burglar had given him at least a passing acquaintance with Art History and modern Galactic Art.
When, after three days of relentless examinations, Han found himself still listed among the CANDIDATES on the vid-board in the giant Hall of Admissions, he was both surprised and ecstatic.
The piloting tests covered the last two days of the week-long testing period. During this portion, Han’s experience stood him in good stead.
The candidates were taken offworld in large transports and shipped to nearby Imperial bases. Only one section of the advanced-placement testing was conducted on Coruscant itself.
Every day, the candidates practiced piloting in a variety of different situations. Han did well, and knew he’d passed each test. Only one offnote was struck–one of Han’s testing officers (human instructors were used during this portion) commented sourly to the other instructors that he felt that Han’s “fastest time for assigned run” score should be stricken because it was highly irregular for a cadet candidate to fly a shuttle through Emperor Palpatine’s Arch of Triumph on Imperial Center, rather than above it.
“He frightened several thousand Imperial citizens! We received hundreds of complaints? the officer sputtered.
The head testing officer shrugged. “Nobody was injured, right?”
“Correct, sir.”
“Then Cadet Candidate Solo’s score stands. Those citizens could use a little excitement from time to time. Good for their circulation,” the head testing officer decided.
Han was careful not to let on that he’d overheard the exchange. The Corellian knew that while he’d done well on the piloting examinations, he’d passed several of the other subjects by the barest skin of his teeth.
Several times a “minus” sign appeared beside his name, indicating that he would be slated for remedial studies in that area, should he pass and be accepted into the Academy.
Not surprisingly, “Music” was among those areas, as was “Ancient Pre-Republic History,” “Interspatial Quantum Physics,” and “Nonlinear Hyperspace Geometry.”
Han studied every night and fell asleep to the sounds of “cram recordings” droning reams of information as he slumbered. Actually, Han didn’t really mind dreaming endlessly about the examinations each night.
It beat dreaming of Bria.
Finally, the day came when he stood before the vid-board and looked for his name on the list of DISQUALIFIED CANDIDATES—and failed to find it.
Heart pounding, scarcely daring to hope, he went over to look at the other list across the Hall, the one labeled cadets—Han Solo.
There it was, in glowing letters. Han stared at it, unable to think, hardly daring to believe it.
But there it was. He hung around the Hall for an hour, and went back three different times, and it was there every time. Finally, after the third time, Han allowed himself to whisper, “Yes!” and pump his fist into the air in triumph.
He walked down the steps and out into the massive top-level plaza, feeling the cold evening air of Coruscant, like a dash of cold, refreshing water.
This calls for a celebration, he thought exultantly.
Han treated himself to dinner at one of the posh upper-level restaurants, not too far from the Hall of Admissions. He ordered nerf medallions in tangy redor sauce, with a side order of fried tubers, and a salad of assorted greens. He also ordered an Alderaanian ale, which he sipped slowly, savoring it.