Sabrina
Copyright© 2026 by The Outsider
Chapter 27: Not What We Planned
30 March 2020 – The United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, Colorado
“DAD!” Sabrina squawked before her fingers flew over her phone.
When the call connected, her father’s calm voice said, “Princess, I’m fine.”
“Dad, what the hell?”
“Ruptured bicep tendon. Hurt like a bastard. I had reattachment surgery once the initial swelling went down and started PT a few weeks later.”
“‘A few weeks later?’ When did this happen?”
“January. A week after you headed back to the Academy.”
“And I’m just hearing about this NOW?”
“Your mom and I signed non-disclosure agreements, remember?”
“That’s a BS answer, Dad...”
“Maybe, but that’s what we agreed to, even in the event of injuries.”
“You better be healed before I get you on the mat again! I’m gonna beat you senseless!”
“You’ll have to get in line behind your mother, Princess,” Jeff laughed. “She’s got first dibs.”
Sabrina let out an angry growl.
“Now, my beloved only daughter and youngest child. Tommy filled us in on his devious plan for the not-wedding. Have you heard from the Academy about graduation and commissioning yet?”
“What ‘wedding?’ You need a live son-in-law first...”
“I see you’re still as fond of surprises as your mother. Seriously, graduation?”
“No visitors at graduation or commissioning this year,” Sabrina replied. “We’ll have to do the traditional post-commissioning ceremonies some other way.”
Sabrina didn’t even bother to count the number of people who asked how her father was the next day. It was excessive, and it nearly made her late for classes a couple of times. Sean Doucette nearly lost his life, however, when Sabrina encountered him.
“I warned you not to jinx my dad, Sean...” Sabrina growled while stalking toward the two-deg.
’Wow,’ Sabrina mused as the younger cadet receded from sight, ’Sean’s sprint speed could earn him a spot on the Olympic team.’
“Hey, how’s your...” Dina started to ask at dinner that night.
“Get in line, sister,” Sabrina cut her off with a raised hand. “And Mom’s got dibs. Has for years.”
“Your dad’s a good-looking guy for an older gentleman...”
“We’ve had this discussion before, Dina ... Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Seriously, Sabrina, what’s the diagnosis?”
“Ruptured left bicep tendon. Dad already had surgery on it, and he’s still coming out for graduation.”
“Is he wearing a sling?”
“No, he’ll be out of it by then, he says, but his arm will still be weak.”
“So, he can’t swing me around too much when we dance?”
Sabrina glared at Dina and said, “And here I thought we were getting along so well...”
“Pfft. I’m more afraid of what your mom might do to me...”
April began with the onslaught of end-of-year exams. Of all of them, Sabrina thought her Astro Engineering Option 2 class – Advanced Astrodynamics – would hurt the most.
To her surprise, it was Astro Engr 437 – Small Spacecraft Engineering II. Trying to design a craft that could carry humans into space, keep their atmosphere inside while surrounded by vacuum, keep the heat inside, hold all the equipment necessary to run the spacecraft, oxygen, water reclamation, power generation, propulsion (thrusters), and, oh, still have room for housing the astronauts riding along...
The class generated some quite spectacular headaches.
Sabrina tried to rub a frontal headache away as she plodded out of that final and back to her room. The bright sun that day did little but amplify it. She sighed and rotated her neck as she walked, her gaze sweeping across the T-zo. Sam Jensen’s joke about a yardarm being raised on the sweeping, open plain came rushing back into her memory.
It would have been her punishment for mutiny. The thought intensified her headache and made her shiver. Her mind was empty of the rushing thoughts and building stress of studying for and then taking her exams. Once back in her room, Sabrina closed the door and collapsed onto her bed.
She woke with a loud snort sometime later. The sun was lower in the sky, the shadows longer. A glance at the clock told Sabrina it was nearly dinnertime. She gathered her shower things and some clean clothes before shuffling to the latrine. A long, hot shower followed by five seconds under a cold spray helped clear Sabrina’s head of the fog that had settled there. She dried off, dressed, and returned to her room.
On her desk, Sabrina’s phone vibrated, notifying her of a missed call and a voicemail waiting. Dina had called, presumably to ask about dinner, which Sabrina confirmed after seeing the voicemail’s transcript.
“Hey, Troublemaker!” Dina chirped as soon as she answered.
“Where do you wanna eat, Dina?” Sabrina asked.
“They still won’t let us off campus, remember? Our choices are limited, and I don’t want to eat at Subway tonight. Meet you at Mitch’s in ten minutes?”
“That’ll work. See ya in ten!”
Sabrina disconnected and grabbed her sneakers.
“So glad that’s over!” Dina sighed as she hugged Sabrina outside the entrance to Mitch’s, not caring about ‘social distancing guidelines.’
“You’re not kidding. Just over two weeks to graduation! Can you believe it?”
“It’s more like I can’t believe they’re gonna let you graduate!”
“Shaddap, kid!”
Sabrina was surprised herself, honestly.
The pandemic prompted numerous changes to USAFA’s 2020 graduation ceremony, notably the date. The Class of 2020 would graduate a month before most other classes had: April 18th. None of the firsties had seen their assignments yet, either. They’d get those orders in about a week, but that remained to be seen. Sabrina kept her fingers crossed for pilot training, like many of her classmates.
Graduation would be held on the Terrazzo in the Cadet Area, which still haunted many cadets’ memories, instead of at Falcon Stadium. Cadets would sit in widely spaced chairs far apart, rather than in tightly packed chairs on the field at Falcon, and would have to wear masks. The lack of guests would be another big difference.
They would, however, still get a high-ranking speaker at the ceremony. The President, Vice President, and Secretary of Defense rotate through the country’s four service academies each year to give the commencement address. It was the Vice President’s turn to speak at USAFA. The Superintendent would introduce the Vice President, and this would be the Superintendent’s final graduation before he retired from the Air Force in September.
Sabrina shook her head at the thought of a 35-year career like the Superintendent’s. With any luck, she would reach that milestone while piloting the Mars colonization spacecraft or something similar.
The former roommates were happy with the meal choices Mitchell Hall’s staff offered tonight. The kitchen staff knew today had been the last day of exams, and this was their way of helping cadets celebrate that. The variety Mitch’s offered impressed Sabrina and her friends four years after their arrival. Vegetarian options, personalized dietary planning, and color-coded visual guides to the healthiest choices available are not what one would expect of a regimented, by-the-book place like USAFA.
“Your dad all healed up?” Dina asked.
“Yes, Dina, Dad’s still coming out,” Sabrina replied in a sing-song voice while she rolled her eyes. “Good thing they aren’t allowing visitors at graduation because you’d probably try to use me as a shield between yourself and Mom. You’d be on your own!”
“Some friend you are!” Dina groused. “What about your first salute?”
“All planned out, kid, don’t you worry.”
“Well, with this virus crap going on, I can’t be there to watch. Is someone going to take pictures?”
“See my previous statement, Cadet...”
“This place definitely killed your sense of humor!”
“You’re still surprised? After what I’ve been through?”
“Well, no ... I guess not.”
“‘A little suffering is good for the soul,’ Dina.”
“I think you suffered enough to account for everyone in Cadet Wing, Sabrina.”
’These dress uniforms are pretty sharp... ‘ Sabrina thought as she looked over her USAFA cadet parade uniform while she dressed for graduation. ’Of course, having Cecil B. DeMille design them helped, too.’
The dark blue, double-breasted, Eisenhower-length jacket paired well with the contrasting silver-threaded shoulder rank boards and white dress trousers. The yellow-gold waist sash complemented the two.
Black, high-gloss dress shoes covered Sabrina’s feet, and the white cover with a thick, dark blue band above a glossy black bill with a bold, silver edge completed the uniform. She confirmed that the dark blue mask, which matched her jacket’s color, covered her face.
Sabrina tucked her cover under her left arm and headed out of her room, locking the door behind her. She joined her classmates as they silently filed out of their squadron’s area, down the stairs, and to the lobby space set aside for them to gather.
Once ready, they stepped outside, put on their covers, and marched along the edge of the Terrazzo. They met the rest of their class at a corner on Fairchild Drive, at the base of the ramp that signaled the start of their time as cadets. Four years earlier, the ramp had brought them to the T-zo for the first time during I-Day.
Sabrina couldn’t help but feel emotional about the end of her cadet career. She arrived in Colorado Springs hoping for much but not knowing what to expect. She had read stories about life here, but living through the past four years made the stories pale by comparison.
Academy staff guided the Class of 2020 onto the ramp and into well-ordered, well-spaced files. The graduating cadets stood there for only a few minutes before the graduation staff motioned for them to begin marching.
The Terrazzo looked empty. It stretched in front of Sabrina like a deserted football field until Cadet Chapel dominated the view at its edge, with the mountains in the background. Sabrina could hear classmates sigh in disappointment at the lack of family and friends filling nearby stands ... or maybe that was her? Nobody was around except the dignitaries on the low riser near the chapel. They also sat widely spaced apart and stood as the cadets appeared.
The graduating class of 2020 marched to the chairs perched on the grass facing the Cadet Chapel and the riser. Chairs were spaced to give cadets six feet between each other, unlike the shoulder-to-shoulder seating of previous years. As in years past, the speeches were long and tiresome, even though the speakers wanted them to be inspiring. Finally, the moment came when this year’s class rose and walked across the stage.
In their case, the Superintendent congratulated them and pronounced them graduates. He had most of the Americans stand and raise their right hands. The Supe recited the Oath of Office for the cadets, and they became commissioned second lieutenants in the US Air Force.
The Chief of Space Operations, the head of the new Space Force, then asked those wearing silver waist sashes to do the same. Those eighty-six USAFA cadets became the first to be directly commissioned into the young US Space Force from the Academy. Sabrina pulled the second lieutenant’s dress shoulder boards from her pocket. She switched out the cadet shoulder boards while looking around blankly.
Her parents should be doing this. They were the ones who pushed her, sacrificed for her, fought for her, and supported her in numerous other ways so she could reach this milestone. The stupid virus had stolen so much from her and her class. At least she still had her fiancé for a while longer.
“Lieutenant Knox?” came the question from Sabrina’s left.
Sabrina turned. Even with masks on, she recognized Dina Metzger and Linda Stockley, both now former roommates.
“Ladies,” she replied. “My felicitations to you both on your commissioning.”
“We are both most thankful, Lieutenant,” Dina replied while Linda laughed next to her. “May we also convey our congratulations to you as well?”
The three dissolved in laughter as they shared a barely acceptable thing these days – a hug.
“Are you two coming tomorrow?” Sabrina asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Linda answered. Dina nodded in agreement. “You all packed up?”
“Just gotta load the truck.”
“We’ll help you if you can return the favor?”
“Let’s go.”
Sabrina drove her truck down I-25 toward the Gallardos’ house and her family. As suspected, her parents, Alex and Anna, Sobo and Sofu, Grandma Jane, and Aunt Heather and her family all waited for her there with her sponsor family after having all quarantined separately. Her personal items from her room at Sijan Hall rode in the truck’s bed, covered by the tonneau cover.
Sabrina garnered some curious looks as others passed her. A few recognized what she wore and gave her a thumbs-up or a salute. She made sure she silently thanked those folks for their congratulations. When Sabrina rolled into Helen and Joe’s driveway just before three in the afternoon, a small crowd stood near the front porch.
She stepped out of her pickup, straightened her uniform jacket, and covered herself. Then, she approached Jane Donnelly and pulled her white gloves back on.
“Ma’am! Cadet First-Class Sabrina Knox reports!” Sabrina snapped a salute up as she spoke. Jane returned it, and the two tried to beat each other’s hands back to their sides.
“Cadet Knox, please raise your right hand and repeat after me,” Jane ordered.
Jane then recited the Oath of Office to Sabrina once more. Sabrina repeated the words back to her.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Knox.”
“Thank you, Colonel!” Sabrina answered with a smile. She gave Jane another salute. Her adopted grandmother then gathered her in an unofficer-like hug.
“I’m so proud of you, Sabrina,” Jane sniffled. “We all are. There’s someone else waiting on you, though, before the rest of these folks can congratulate you.”
Jane nodded behind herself and to her left. Sabrina sidestepped and stood in front of the man waiting for her.
“Ma’am! Staff Sergeant Knox reports!”
Her father threw her a parade ground salute she recognized after seeing it so often. Jeff’s Army Dress Blue uniform still fit, even fifteen years after his second enlistment ended. Sabrina wasn’t surprised. The dark blue uniform blouse was a shade or two darker than hers and covered with decorations earned during eight years of active service.
A Combat Infantryman’s Badge, the Combat Medical Badge below that, and eighteen ribbons – six complete rows of three each – sat above the left pocket flap: Jumpmaster paratrooper wings with a combat star on the flap, an enameled Ranger tab above that button, and his Expert Marksman badge on the other side of that flap.
The right side was no less impressive. Honduran paratrooper wings rested above the 1st Special Forces’ crest, his name tag sat below it on the right pocket flap, and on the pocket two Combat Service Identification Badges – one for the 82nd Airborne, one for the 3rd Ranger Battalion. The almost royal blue dress trousers with the gold NCO stripe on the outside seam were bloused – tucked into – highly polished jump boots. A tan beret with a Special Forces green flash and crest topped it all off.
Her father was a stud, and not just in the way her friends thought from watching him on TV. Sabrina returned her father’s salute.
“At ease, Sergeant. I’ll be in the area all day.”
She flipped him a coin. After catching the coin, Jeff dropped the salute and swung his daughter in the way he had for years. Sabrina laughed joyfully, and happy tears tracked down her face.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Princess! I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks, Dad,” she replied while she wiped her face. “You better let Mom in here before she hurts you.”
Keiko was almost out of control – for her – when she gave Sabrina her hug. A rapid string of Japanese words streamed into Sabrina’s ear during the hug. Keiko stepped back and held out her hand.
“I believe your father and Grandma Jane would say you are out of uniform, Sabrina.”
Sabrina handed over her second lieutenant shoulder boards, one to each parent. Helen took pictures while Keiko and Jeff replaced Sabrina’s current cadet shoulder boards. Joe continued to take video; he had begun filming the minute Sabrina pulled into the driveway. Helen took many more photos as Sabrina posed in uniform with everyone there to congratulate her. Sabrina saved the best for last.
“Hi, TJ,” she whispered after their long, deep kiss ended.
“You look so damn good, Sabrina. Congratulations.”