27. How Far, How Fast

"Widen your stance. A little deeper there, Currant. Elbows up! Now open your right hand and hit the pole with your palm. Don't shift the grip with your left hand - keep your palm down on the pole. That's it! Let the momentum rotate your left wrist and catch the pole right before the pommel."

As he spoke, Avocato showed the maneuver with exaggerated gestures, sending his ust arcing overhead as he reversed direction and made up distance all in one move. Behind him, Currant and Kedi followed suit, neither cadet as assured as their tutor.

"Left foot up - keep your balance! Lunge in. Forward thrust! Draw back, drop the blades downwards, right hand on top. Bring the pole across your body to block - without killing yourself! Now, twist overhead. Strike! Reverse! Strike!"

He lost them on the complex moves, and when he turned for the next attack of the training routine, it was to find Kedi and Currant leaning on their halberds, watching him with amused interest as they gave themselves a break.

"Finish!" called Kedi, gesturing broadly, and Currant added his encouragement.

Avocato smiled. Unshackled by students, he cranked up the speed and aggression, the practice ust a blur as he deftly twirled and thrust the weapon. Steps became lunges, lunges became leaps as he demonstrated exactly how deadly the halberd could be, and why it persisted into modern days as the ceremonial weapon of the royal guard. He was all fluid grace and raw power as he completed the routine with a final flourish and loud shout, bringing the pommel straight down before him –

"Don't!" Kedi yelped, then Currant finished in a desperate squeak, "- dent the floor!"

With matching grimaces, they dared to look, but Avocato had halted the strike just a hairsbreadth from the polished wooden floor of the gym.

"Would I do that?" asked Lord Cato.

Kedi and Currant glared and sighed in relief, and Avocato laughed.

"These practice weapons are too light to do any real damage anyway," he insisted, slowly running through some of the more complex moves of the form. "I have my great-to-the-tenth-power aunt's ust from when she was captain of the royal guard. My grandfather keeps it in the armory at Hiis. That thing could slice through you like a scythe through grass. You could put it through a wall and it would just laugh. I was never allowed to use it against a real opponent."

Kedi smirked. "I wonder why."

"You are frighteningly good with that as it is," complimented Currant, handing him a bottle of water. Softly he added, "And we have an audience."

"I know," said Avocato in kind. "He got here a few minutes after we started. He was watching us on the range yesterday, too."

"Watching you, you mean," Kedi corrected, and Avocato grimaced.

"Stalking, more like," Currant muttered. "He's determined if he's up so early."

Avocato made a little grumble of agreement, not looking towards the flint-faced Ventrexian sitting in the bleachers. He was elderly, and wore the uniform of a general. Luckily he hadn't approached or addressed them, and Avocato hoped he didn't because interactions with such a vast imbalance of power between ranks were infinitely awkward for all parties. None of the cadets recognized him, but they recognized that hard, cold gleam in his eyes as someone with whom they did not want to interact.

His enthusiasm evaporated at the reminder of the sharp-faced man eyeing him like a hund looking for its next meal. "Shall we go again or -"

"Cato!"

Nikos arrived, mercifully saving them from having to make any decisions. Weighed down with their packs, dripping wet from a pouring rain, he trudged onto the gymnasium floor and joined them. He dropped a pack on Kedi's foot, demanding,

"Do you carry bricks in this thing, Kotic?"

"No. Rocks," said Kedi.

A growl. "You're late. Currant, Menti has your books. He'll meet you in the dining hall for breakfast." He looked at Avocato squarely, letting his glance slide to the general, who was now standing, and back to his roommate. Ever swift on the uptake, he understood and shared their discomfort of such scrutiny. When he spoke, it was loudly enough to carry. "Hurry up. Breakfast is served soon and we still have to drop off the progress reports for tutoring before class starts."

The reports weren't due until the following day, but it was a good excuse to get a move on. Like Avocato, Nikos had been pressed into service for tutoring his fellow cadets, only in his case, it was for math.

Avocato seized on the escape, matching Nikos' volume. "You're right. I forgot. Let's get going."

Nikos stood guard by the door to the team room as his friends changed into their uniforms, just in case.

"Who is that?" wondered Nikos as they made their way into the dining hall. "I saw him yesterday at the range and at inspection, but I didn't see him talk with any of the instructors."

"No idea," said Avocato.

"I don't like the look of him." Nikos dropped his bag at their usual table, indignant for Avocato's sake. Over the past two years, he had gone from having no concept of brothers to fully embracing his role as an overprotective older brother, even though he was Avocato's elder by less than a month, a fact which entertained Kedi mightily. Avocato, at least, was quite used to shorter, older brothers. "Probably just one more command officer who thinks you're nothing more than a showpiece."

Avocato sighed. "You're probably right."

He had met more than his fair share of ranking officers, most of whom saw nothing more than a rare and legendary and highly coveted color and not Avocato himself. He'd been summoned more times than he liked, interrupting his schedule just so some general could ask intrusive questions he wasn't prepared to answer and hear them gush on about Blue Imperials and General Mau, as if they somehow knew more about Avocato's heritage than he did. Finally, he had appealed to Cataloupe, rightly pointing out other cadets were not so inconvenienced by the whims of random superiors and his tutoring schedule was being wrecked. Cataloupe had put a stop to Avocato being yanked about, but he could not stop visitors and alumni from wandering about the academy and possibly accosting him.

"Avoid them as much as you can," was the colonel's advice to Avocato. "If they try to corner you, any time, day or night, you have an appointment with me in five minutes that you cannot miss, and no matter what I'm doing, I'll see you."

So far, he'd only used that excuse once, and it had been extremely satisfying seeing Colonel Cataloupe dress down the major who followed Avocato all the way to a staff room where the teachers were holding a meeting. He wasn't sure if that would work on a general, however . . .

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Colonel Cataloupe."

Cataloupe took a moment to brace himself mentally and physically as he shut the door. He knew that voice all too well. Turning, he forced a smile. "General Basmet. What a pleasure to find you in my office."

His tone said otherwise. Cataloupe knew perfectly well there were only two things that would land his former commanding officer in his office. Basmet gave a derisive snort and returned his attention to the gallery visible through the glass doors at the far end of the office.

"I see the leg wound healed," was the general's gruff greeting, and the interrogation commenced.

"Fully, sir. Thank you for your concern."

Another little snort as the pleasantries were dismissed. "Things are getting hot in Sector 3 again. We could have used you at Tenen."

"You have Pursimion. She can handle most anything thrown at her."

"Pursimion is capable, that's true, but you're still the best infantry commander we have. I've half a mind to recall you."

There was the first reason he was here. It wasn't quite a threat, nor was it unexpected, but fortunately reassignment could only happen if the threat to Ventrexia became extreme or Cataloupe requested it – something he had no intention of doing. Cataloupe had been closely following developments at the front, and on more than one theater, the fight against Tryvuul was intensifying, with gains and losses on both sides. In short, the status quo was being maintained, as ever.

"Flattering, sir, but I'm committed to seeing Class 984 through to graduation."

Basmet gave him a look. "And how are you finding teaching?"

"I'm not actually teaching, except for filling in here or there, though next year I'll be taking on battle tactics for the command track students," Cataloupe corrected tactfully. Basmet had protested when Cataloupe had been appointed here, claiming he was needed with the fleet. While that was true, the Ventrexian high command, unlike their Tryvuulian counterparts, rotated its troops and officers, and last year had been Cataloupe's turn to go home. What was more, the Ventrexians made sure the best officers taught the up-and-coming soldiers and cadets. The Tryvuulians just used their heroes until they lost them, leaving the next rank of soldiers to figure things out as best they were able. "Most of what I'm responsible for now is administrative work for my cadets."

"Ah, yes. Your cadets."

And there was the second reason. He was after Avocato. Cataloupe was in no way surprised. Basmet was of an ancient noble house, one of the oldest on Ventrexia, and seemed to feel he deserved the best of everything. What could be better than securing the only Blue Imperial presently serving in the military? Avocato was of higher birth and from an older house, and though he'd deny it, Basmet cared deeply about such things. Having Avocato on his staff might be a pretty coup for the general, who liked to push people around, but a terrible waste of an officer.

"They're an energetic lot," admitted Cataloupe. He sat against his desk, bracing for a siege. "I've learned as much as they have. But enough about me, sir. What brings you here, General?"

Basmet was not so easily deflected. "Using up leave. I thought to check up on my grandnephew. He's in his third year here."

"Really? How marvelous. I had no idea."

"Mmm. You'll most likely see him, then. He's in the executive tack, seconding in command. Cadet Lord Jin."

"Jin. Of course." Cataloupe deliberately omitted all titles, because Basmet was inordinately fond of them. Cataloupe knew the name better than the student. Jin was a perfectly average and perfectly unremarkable cadet, thimbles player, and potential commander. He'd make the very necessary kind of officer needed for routine tasks, convoy runs, and escort duties, with the odd foray into combat. Dull but steady, capable and safe.

To a man like Basmet, an utter disappointment.

Unlike Avocato, whose daring and innovative approach to combat would make him an outstanding front line officer. Already the head of Class 984 had a reputation for bold plans and unorthodox use of resources. Comparing Jin to Avocato was like comparing a candle to a firecracker. Both had their uses, but one drew all the attention. Unfair as it was, Cataloupe knew Basmet was making just such a comparison.

"He's a fine young man," Cataloupe concluded.

Basmet mumbled an agreement. "Speaking of fine young men, it seems you've nabbed yourself the only Blue Imperial in the service."

Cataloupe fought the urge to frown. "He happened to be in this class. I count myself fortunate. Avocato is an excellent student."

"First in his class. In the command track. Thimbles champion. I was watching him teach a few oafs how to use an ust just this morning. That boy could give the royal guard a lesson. Some tout him as a second General Mau."

"He won't be that, but he will be the first Avocato," countered Cataloupe, thinking such an assessment was rather premature and disliking any of his students being called oafs. He could appreciate the frustration Avocato had expressed last year at having other people set standards for him. Basmet had a hungry look in his eyes, and the colonel suspected he envied Cataloupe's position at the academy almost as much as Avocato's claim to his Imperial heritage.

Avocato's very obvious and undeniable claim.

And Basmet's very obvious and undeniable desire for such distinction, be it for himself or his family.

Cataloupe had been wary from the start. Now he was defensive. Basmet could be conniving when he wanted something, and he was not above underhanded tactics to suit his needs, be it on the field or off. He was a good military leader, but a good person . . . ? Not so much. And he clearly wanted something.

"So, does your Blue Imperial live up to the rumors?" demanded Basmet.

"I was not aware a second-year cadet was a suitable topic of rumor."

Basmet smirked at the censure. "Oh, come now. You know what the service is like, Cataloupe. Stories abound about this up-and-coming wonder. Sounds like just the sort we need."

"He's an excellent student, as I said, and a natural leader. What more is there at this point?"

"Let him prove it."

"He does. Daily. Just because he's a Blue Imperial doesn't mean he has to justify himself to anyone who wants to indulge their curiosity about him. Besides, he has finals starting soon and hasn't got time for any distractions."

"But he does have one scenario left. Let him lead a team in the field."

Cataloupe frowned that Avocato's schedule should be known by this man. "Where are you going with this, General Basmet? You're not the first person to be intensely curious about Avocato, but he's not a prize to be won and shown off. A lot of officers have expressed an interest in having a Blue Imperial on their staff, but trust me, Avocato will not be a staff officer. He's in the command track for a reason."

"If he's so excellent, then why not see what he can accomplish in the field?"

"Because he has a right to be treated the same as all his classmates. We don't ask other second-year cadets to lead field exercises. The scenarios they face now don't pit them against anyone more than themselves or an imaginary enemy. None of them have faced a live opponent yet."

"So give him a head start. If he's so peerless, he should be able to handle it."

"I didn't say he was peerless. I said he's an excellent student, but he's still mortal."

Basmet shrugged. "He's as good as in his third year."

"You still haven't answered my question. Where are you going with this, sir? What do you hope to gain by trying to force Avocato to lead a team?"

The general's expression hardened, and his eyes were like ice as he snapped, "Because I'm not alone in wanting to see how fast and how far the first Blue Imperial here in almost a century can go."

"You only care what he is, not who. He's a cadet, not a symbol!"

"Like it or no, he's both a symbol and a beacon." Basmet shook his head. "You want to coddle him from a universe that will have no mercy, Cataloupe."

"I want to nurture him to be the best he can be. Pushing him now-"

"He'll either push back or walk away. But we'll have an answer."

"Who is this we, General? And don't include me in that number. I know what Avocato will do."

He would push back. Hard. Probably harder than Basmet anticipated.

"Then let him do it."

"Answer the question," he ordered, not about to back down. "Who is we?"

Basmet's jaw tightened, but he recognized an impasse when he was faced by one. "The High Command. Generals Gatita and Meocon, Admiral Gathfach, the Lords of the Military. Among others."

Mention of the men and women in charge of the whole Ventrexian military was enough to give Cataloupe pause. An eighteen-year-old cadet had drawn that much attention? Why was so much hope being hung on Avocato? Was this optimism or desperation? It didn't matter. Cataloupe had an obligation to his student's best interests first and foremost. Still, he had a final shot to deliver.

"Don't lose sight of whose cousin Avocato is, or that his best friend has found great favor with the crown prince and princess."

"That's something I'm not allowed to forget," Basmet said. The bitterness in his tone told Cataloupe that King Leocadi was aware of the interest in his young cousin. Perhaps he was even the source . . .

"I've already spoken to Major Inka. He's onboard with pitting a team of his cadets against your boy."

Cataloupe frowned, as much as Basmet going behind his back as calling Avocato everything but Avocato. "He has a name, General."

Basmet glowered.

"And what did Commodore Leoni say?" asked Cataloupe, guessing if Basmet went behind his back once, he'd do it twice.

That dark expression deepened. Basmet did not like being called out, and he did not like the answer he was compelled to give.

"She said the decision is yours, since he's your student."

A wise choice. Leoni had given him an out – if he chose to take it. He could not deny, he was intensely curious as to what Avocato might do with an independent command regardless of its size. He knew Basmet well enough to know that if he didn't get his answers here, the general would pursue it with higher authorities than Cataloupe and Leoni, and any control of the situation would be snatched away. Better to deal with things now, on his own terms.

"I will agree to your proposal," Cataloupe finally said, "conditionally."

Basmet gestured for him to name terms. Cataloupe thought for a little while before counting off on his fingers.

"One, Avocato agrees to do it after being briefed. If he has any misgivings, I'll cancel it and there will be no repercussions publicly or privately. Two, I choose the scenario. Three, the teams will be equal, will be comprised of whatever team is next on the list of third-years, and Avocato chooses his own team. Last, there is to be no interference whatsoever."

Pleased to have gotten his way even if he had to cede some ground, Basmet answered with another smirk. "May you both choose wisely, Colonel."