Chapter Four: The Cadet, the Colonel, and the Commodore

"Cadet Avocato? You can go in. Colonel Cataloupe will see you now."

Thanking the secretary, Avocato quickly turned off the padd he'd been using for some last-minute studying for a military history exam he was taking later in the day. Ventrexians were, to put it nicely, a violent people. Generally, if they weren't fighting aliens, they were fighting each other, and they had a very long history. It was actually too much to study as a whole, so the curriculum was narrowed down to the most relevant events. Even then, the information was extensive and ponderous. Holding the padd in his left hand, he straightened his uniform and made sure he was presentable before opening the door.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he entered the office for his meeting with the head of his class. Cataloupe was taking time to meet each of his cadets, and this afternoon it was finally Avocato's turn. From what he'd heard from other students, the colonel was very relaxed and witty, and he'd even offered a few of the cadets a refreshment.

The office wasn't much bigger than his dorm, well-lit by very large, old-fashioned glass-paned doors on the opposite wall. They stood open onto a gallery walkway overlooking the academy's main quad, and probably heated the place up intolerably when the sun hit them. There were several scale models of Ventrexian starships on a shelf, many books and records, and some beautifully detailed star charts on the wall behind a large and ancient desk. Of the colonel, there was no sign.

"Cadet Avocato, Class 984, Squad 3, reporting as ordered, sir!" He accompanied the words with a crisp salute. Or at least, that was the plan. With no one to receive the salutation, Avocato dropped his hand to his side, not wanting to salute an empty chair, and his oft-practiced introduction died on the vine.

"Colonel? Sir?" he asked the office at large. He glanced around and up, but . . . nothing.

At a bit of a loss, Avocato went to the doors leading to the gallery. Hoping he wasn't venturing into some territory forbidden to cadets, he poked his head out, half-expecting to see Cataloupe lolling about. To his undying horror, Commodore Leoni herself was walking his way and she spotted him instantly.

Her frown was like getting hit by a blaster at close range. Actually, Avocato would have preferred to get shot rather than explain himself right now. Belatedly, he crashed to attention, praying she would just nod and carry on and let him slink back to the office to wait for his appointment. It was too late to dive under the desk. Perhaps he could just manage to die before she -

"What are you doing in Colonel Cataloupe's office, cadet?" she demanded, giving him a hard look. She had very green eyes set in a mottled black and orange face.

Avocato swallowed. She barely reached his shoulder yet she was utterly terrifying. "Ma'am. I have an appointment to meet the colonel. His secretary told me to go in, but his office is empty."

Leoni nodded. "He was called away for a consultation with General Chow. He should be back momentarily, Cadet Avocato."

He blinked, startled that she would know his name, then he grew annoyed with himself. Of course, she knew his name. Everyone here knew who he was. Hundreds, even thousands of people here knew who he was, even if he didn't know them. It was galling. And frustrating. And -

She had yet to look away from him, and he realized she had deliberately provoked him to gauge his response. Steeling himself against his own indignation and embarrassment, Avocato kept his expression and voice as bland as he could manage, saying, "Yes, ma'am."

She smirked. "That's better. You need to command yourself before you can command armies, Cadet Avocato. Don't allow someone else to control your reactions. You don't want to leave yourself open to manipulation by anyone, your peers and superiors included."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and then with greater meaning, "Thank you."

"Choose your battles. You might not always be victorious, but there's a world of difference between losing, and just not winning. The fight isn't over until you quit, Cadet. If you take something from the field, even just a small lesson learned, it's not a route." Her expression softened slightly, and she turned. "Here comes the colonel now. I'll leave you to your appointment."

"Ma'am." He saluted as Cataloupe came hurrying up the steps from the quad. Unsure of what to do in the presence of so much shifting authority, Avocato stood stiffly and was about to salute again when Cataloupe called,

"Ah! Commodore Leoni! Cadet Avocato!"

Avocato, who had not yet met Cataloupe face-to-face, forced himself not to react. Granted they had an appointment, but protocol dictated Avocato had to introduce himself first. Cataloupe shouldn't know him yet, but of course . . . everyone knew him. Leoni cast him an amused smirk, nodding in approval of his composure, then in greeting to Cataloupe before leaving them with a quiet, "Good day, gentlemen."

The colonel turned to him, and Avocato snapped a salute. "Cadet Avocato, Class 984, Squad 3."

"At ease, Cadet. This isn't a formal meeting. I simply want to get to know the students I'm responsible for." Cataloupe paused at the doors to his office, took one look at the paperwork on his desk, and changed tack. "Let's . . . keep on the move, Cadet Avocato. Maybe I can outrun forms for a time. How are finding the academy so far?"

Side-by-side, they walked along the gallery, passing offices and officers and talking in very general terms for several minutes, though Avocato had the sensation that Cataloupe was leading up to something a bit deeper than the same line of study everyone else in his class was following and had talked about. Reaching the end of the walkway, Cataloupe pushed open a set of double doors and they entered the main – and oldest - building of the royal academy. It was cool and quiet, and their voices echoed off the high stone walls. The ancient architecture was familiar to Avocato – his mother's childhood home in Hiis had been built around the same time as this academy, and all was graceful and elegant. Cataloupe motioned him onward, and they walked past arched windows and tall columns and down curving staircases toward the main entrance.

"I understand you've run into some issues with your peers and the upper classmen."

"Yes, sir. Some people have taken exception to my . . . "

"Color?" suggested Cataloupe.

"I was going to say existence, sir, but color suits just as well. Some cadets have no issue with demanding to know how I'm related to the imperial family, as if I owe them answers. It's more than curiosity, though why the feel they need to know who my parents are is beyond me."

"It's envy, lad. Surely you must have encountered it before."

He shrugged. "I expected some interest, but not to this extent, Colonel. Perhaps the society I kept prior to starting here was simply used to me."

"Or too well bred to pry," said Cataloupe with a knowing smile, completing Avocato's unspoken thought.

"Yes, sir," was his non-committal acknowledgement, which was answer enough.

"There's many a cadet here who would love to be the stuff of legends, until they find there's a price attached. I suspect it's a price you've paid all your life."

He couldn't argue. Couched in those terms, the colonel was absolutely right. "Almost everyone seems to have their own expectations of me and what I should be like and act. They tend to grow offended when I fail to meet those expectations. I'm my own person, not someone else's idea of what a Blue Imperial should be."

For some reason, this please Cataloupe greatly. Pausing, he regarded Avocato squarely, then gestured at the wall behind him. Turning around, Avocato found himself facing a life-sized, painted portrait of General Mau, Prince of Hiis. He recognized the picture immediately – it was a well-known rendition, though romanticized. Mau was depicted on a battlefield that depicted clashes on the ground, air, and in space. General Mau was wielding a sword and blaster in melodramatic style, though there were historical inconsistencies in it. Avocato was fairly sure the general had never worn his full-dress uniform into pitched battle against the Tryvuulians. He knew that because he had seen that very uniform, lovingly preserved and on display next to the original portrait hanging in his grandfather's estate in Hiis.

Cataloupe came and stood next to him, regarding Avocato's celebrated ancestor. "Your heritage can be a tool, like anything else. Use it to your advantage. While you can't change what you are, Cadet Avocato, you can control if that's the only thing people know you for. You're the only one who can decide if you're going to be a soldier or just a symbol of one."

Astute words, every one. He would have to weigh and consider this conversation and his encounter with Commodore Leoni with care. He could feel the impact upon him already. He knew he would remember every detail and word of this afternoon for all his days. A lot had happened in an hour. He felt a rush of gratitude for the colonel's attention and understanding, and he had a strong inkling of who had spoken to Lin on his account and granted the fourth-year so much latitude.

"Yes, sir," he said softly, still looking up at the storied prince whose color and legacy he bore.