Chapter Five: Heirs, Spares, and Backups
As the weeks turned into months at the academy, Avocato was not surprised that more than a few of his classmates disliked him. Much as he simply wanted to be another student and survive his classes, for him, that was impossible. His mere existence had always been enough to set other people off. The military had coveted Blue Imperials since the days of General Mau, and the buzz that Avocato's presence caused had not died down halfway through the year.
Many cadets did not want to believe he was an actual Blue Imperial and demanded samples of hair or details of how he was related to the imperial line. Why anyone felt this mattered or was their business, Avocato could not understand, but he was given ample opportunity to practice his self control and icy indifference on people who seemed to believe he owed them answers. Really, he would have been just as much an Imperial if he'd been born solid black like his mother, just not so noticeable. Somehow, the constant, visible reminder of teal fur rankled.
The third-years as a whole were annoyed that several of their peers had been handed very harsh punishments just for trying to satisfy their curiosity. They let their anger be known and picked up a gauntlet that had not been thrown down. When Avocato refused to divulge personal information, their nosiness turned to frustration and they often tried to pull rank and order him to reply. He was put on report by them multiple times for refusing to obey orders, but in each case Cadet Lin - and once Purrina - interceded and the punishment came down on the ones filing the reports. Pokes and hair-pulling turned to pushes and finally came to blows one morning. Luckily, Avocato was more than capable of holding his own in a fight, especially with Nikos and Kedi at his back, and it was a matter of seconds before some second- and fifth-year cadets interceded. Fighting being strictly prohibited outside the training grounds, an investigation was launched. The upshot of the affair was Cadet Lin testified to the numerous punishments he'd handed out, Avocato confirmed the details, and Commodore Leoni, incensed with these antics, put the entire third year – some five hundred and twenty-six students – on report. She cancelled all their privileges until the end of the semester and assigned grounds keeping and cleanup duties to the instigators.
"I should not be teaching you respect at this point," she said as she wrapped up a harsh, no-nonsense address to the assembled third-year cadets. There were no doubts in their minds as to the extent of her displeasure. "Is this your notion of how officers conduct themselves? By brawling in the halls? By assaulting their peers? By wasting the time of their superiors?" She whirled on the six cadets who had started the fight, singled out in front of their class along with an additional nine cadets (minus Purrina, who had vindicated himself by defending Avocato) who had been previously placed on report by Lin. "And what gives you the right to try to delve into the personal history of a fellow student? Why do you need to know anything more than his name and rank, if that?" She let them feel the weight of her glare. "You are all being punished because you are all responsible – for yourselves, for each other, for this academy. The conduct of one is the conduct of all. If anything like this disgraceful display is repeated, one more false report, or any word of retaliation crosses my desk, the perpetrators will be expelled and prosecuted. Dismissed."
Avocato was not present for the dressing-down, but it was one for the ages and quickly entered school lore. By the following morning, everyone in the academy knew every detail. The impact of Leoni's words was amazingly sobering, and the gardens looked particularly manicured. Major Miku, in charge of the third-year class, was so incensed at their conduct he ordered every cadet in the class to write a three-page essay about responsibility. Aside from glares and the odd snarled comment cast at Avocato, the interrogations subsided, even if the interest and resentment did not.
There were many sons and daughters of noble houses at the academy, a few of them distantly related to Avocato, but none wore their pedigree quite so prominently as he, or cared as little. So while the other young nobles had to inform the world that they were special, Avocato just had to show up.
The lords and ladies clustered together in cliques and tried to cling to what was familiar. It would not have been so bad, they felt, if Avocato had associated with them outside class since he brought attention to anyone he stood beside, but he chose not to. Having been born and raised as the son of a grand lord and a princess, Avocato was far too fascinated hearing about ways to grow fire peppers to get different color pods and boats as a primary form of transportation, or harpooning glass snakes during snowfalls and using gliders to cross ice fields, or any of the mundane details of other peoples' lives to sit around sniffing and talking of things he already knew about. He was here to learn, and that was what he was doing. These were ways of life and cultures he'd never heard about before, far removed from anything he'd experienced, and he thrilled to every story. So, Avocato was branded as something of a traitor to his social class, though these stripling lords had no authority or opportunity to shun him, much to their chagrin. What was worse, he wouldn't have cared. Worse still, they knew it.
There was also the question of grades and performance. From the start, Avocato was at the forefront of his class, and he quickly became the one to beat. Competition to be top student for academics and physical training was fierce, but Avocato made it look almost effortless. Already well educated and proficient in shooting and martial arts before coming to the academy, he took to the training like a bird took to wing. This was the discipline and the world he belonged in. He knew it, and he embraced it wholeheartedly. That he was helping his little band of peasants and farmers excel rubbed a lot of fur the wrong way. Little did they know, he was being helped as much as he was helping.
So, while he knew his mere presence generated rancor amongst a portion of his class, he had not anticipated Nikos would be the target of their resentment.
Somehow the troublemakers learned Nikos was attending the academy on a scholarship, and that Answaar's primary industries were farming and fishing. Assuming these facts amounted to Nikos being a pauper and attending the academy was an act of charity and not scholastic achievement, he was mocked for everything from his accent to his clothes not being tailored to having trouble eating with a fork and knife. They tried childish attacks – shoves and trips and petty things like trying to scuff his boots before inspection. Nikos managed to side-step most of the time, and his friends stuck close and were not afraid to return the kicks and scuffs. Not wanting to tangle with Avocato or Kedi, verbal abuse became their weapon of choice. The digs were subtle and underhanded, well shrouded in wordplay and innuendo, and, in the minds of these cadets, clever. They assumed Nikos wasn't following them, but he understood exactly what was going on and bided his time.
"They are weirdly obsessive," Toshi commented one evening as they sat down to dinner. Moments earlier, one of the female cadets, the granddaughter of an arch dame, had tried to trip Nikos as he walked past her table, only to have Kedi stand on her foot until Nikos was safely seated.
"Oh, was your foot there?" Kedi asked with a great show of sympathy, looming close as he pinned her down. Stergar, seated next to her, started to rise, but Kedi shifted his tray to one hand and clapped his hand onto Stergar's shoulder, holding him in his seat with ease. "Perhaps you should keep it out of the aisle from now on, yes?"
She looked at him with mute hatred, trying to pull her foot free, but Kedi – and his feet – were just too large for so easy an escape.
"Yes?" he repeated, smiling a very unpleasant smile that did not mask the threat in his eyes as he bore down with his considerable weight.
"Yes," she ground out through clenched teeth, and he finally released her to nurse her smashed foot and scuffed boot.
"What is their issue with Nikos?" asked Felice, kicking a chair out for Kedi to sit. "It can't be his dashing good looks alone. They're putting genuine effort into this campaign."
"More than their studies," muttered Pawlette.
Kedi chuckled, then gave Avocato a pointed look. "It is the company he keeps."
"Ahh," said FannFee, "color me teal. You're studying above your station, Nikos. How dare you!"
"Cato?" invited Kedi, wanting to get his opinion.
Avocato smiled and set his fork down. "I can tell you exactly what the issue is," he said, deliberately pitching his voice just loudly enough so the cadets at the next table could hear themselves get drawn and quartered without straining. "It's very simple and painfully obvious: Nikos wants to be here and they don't."
"Keep talking, Avocato," ordered Pawlette shrewdly. "It's not that simple."
"It's normal for noble families to have at least three children," he explained. He ticked them off on his fingers. "The heir, a spare, and a back-up in case something happens to child one or two. The problem is, that formula makes for one title and a lot of children. Cadet branches of almost every noble house abound. The further away from the trunk, the leaner and less important they tend to be, though they cling very closely to their titles. So, it's tradition to send the younger children off to the military, as Kedi and Fann and I can attest. Of course, parents still want their children to do well in the service, so they send them here first in the hopes they can be officers and make themselves useful."
"For once," Kedi grinned.
Avocato smiled back at him. "So we have many young nobles far removed from the chance of a title no matter how minor, resenting the fact that they're just insurance for their elders, sent here to earn a living versus living a life of luxury. They didn't have to do anything remarkable to get in. So long as their house can pay their tuition, they just have to show up. They're sent here, where suddenly not only are they nothing special, but no one but they care who their parents are. It's culture shock, plain and simple" He gestured with both hands at his friend. "Enter Nikos, from so far away, he doesn't care about the petty politics between the little noble houses scrambling for attention. He actually had to work for years to earn that scholarship and fight to get here, meaning he's capable and smart and motivated and successful, versus being disposed of because you're surplus."
FannFee laughed dismissively. "Don't include me with you proto-lords. My cadet branch was pruned generations ago. I'm only here on scholarships and by the generosity of my great uncle. Noble blood is no guarantee of noble graces."
Across the table from him, Kedi smiled, enjoying the hard truth being dropped on the eavesdroppers. "Hear her."
"What number are you, then?" questioned Pawlette.
"I'm the back-up. Third and youngest," confirmed Avocato, completely at ease with his place in the family hierarchy. "And before you ask, I wanted to come here since I was about ten. So I'm exactly where I want to be. I also told my brothers that if they ever do something that will force me to become the spare, the survivor had better enjoy their last few days on this planet because I'll make being recalled worth my while."
They all laughed, and Pawlette pressed, "Fann?"
"Fourth of four, and glad to escape!" declared Fannfee.
"I'm fourth of six. All boys. If I survive, my father will send my younger brothers here," said Kedi. "They'll like the food, but not the heat."
"This is not heat," insisted Nikos, to the amusement of all at the table. Weather and what constituted an acceptable temperature was a standing argument between these two.
Kedi pointed to the windows. "I see rain, not snow. It's hot. Eat more, Nikos. Build insulation." Returning to the topic at hand, he said, "Cato, finish."
"What else is there?"
"You," insisted Kedi.
"Finish for me," Avocato replied, picking up his fork.
"Easy!" Kedi gestured with his knife, an action so normal for him they knew it wasn't considered unmannerly in the Far Reaches. "The Blue Imperial, a very obvious link to the royal family, prefers the quiet farmer, the handsome hunter, the pretty little thimbles player, over spoiled nobles for his friends. Why so? He can afford to! You don't need to prove who you are. You already wear it. Live it. What that says, Cato, is you don't value people for their status, but for themselves. You serve these lords as they serve others, and it irks. They can't strike at you, so they strike lower."
"Literally," agreed Nikos softly.
"Ha!" laughed Toshi. "Let them get their own Blue Imperial!"
"They can't," his roommate replied. "That's the problem!"
"I know who I'd rather have lead me," said Pawlette. She paused for effect. "Nikos. He's intelligent enough to get the imperials defending him!"
"A toast!" declared Felice. "To the smartest cadet at the table!"
They saluted Nikos with their drinks, quietly laughing. Then they toned down the noise before a monitor came by to see what they were about and tell them off for being too loud. From the neighboring table, there was only smoldering silence.