Trust and Other Acquired Skills

"Gary."

"Huh-uh?"

At the inarticulate mumble, Avocato arched an eyebrow and let out a long, slow breath. As he looked up from the controls of the Crimson Light, several rapid-fire thoughts ricocheted through Gary Goodspeed's mind. The first thought that really took hold was the fact that Avocato had eyebrows. What evolutionary quirk equipped a six-foot, teal cat-man with eyebrows? Granted, Gary had known from the start that Avocato had eyebrows, had stared at them . . . not nearly enough, had seen Avocato and his son work them to full advantage, but until this moment of sleep-deprived wonder, he'd never actually thought about it before.

The second thought, following hot on the heels of the first eyebrow-inspired synapses burst, was that given the cant of said eyebrow and the no-nonsense little frown that crinkled the very tip of Avocato's nose, Gary had already lost whatever argument they were about to pretend to have.

"When's the last time you slept?"

"Um . . ."

"Right. Bed. Now," ordered Avocato, his dad mode activating.

"But -"

"Bed, Gary. Now."

"Seconded," Sheryl added without prompting.

If Avocato was annoyed for the unsolicited support, he didn't show it. He just went on oozing stern disapproval at Gary's non-sleeping, unbedridden status.

"Mo-om!" Gary instinctively bellyached. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours. No whining. Listen to the puss in boots."

That earned her a glare that could peel the paint off a battleship. Sheryl smirked, pleased to have generated a reaction even though she knew she was playing with fire. Avocato had kicked more ass per capita than anyone alive, and everyone knew perfectly well the only thing insulating her from the Ventrxian's wrath was the fact that Gary wanted a relationship with her and Avocato's self-control, which was not limitless. Gary gave her a look that asked her not to start. Not now. He knew Avocato's temperament well enough and this was not the time to prod him. On a personal level, Avocato ignored Sheryl's existence, and she mostly returned the favor. Professionally, they could function together provided Sheryl held her tongue and watched her tone, especially if Gary was involved, but even he could tell his best friend and his mother had a lot in common but would sooner die than admit it out loud.

"But – wow. I am whining."

Her expression shifting, Sheryl backed down a bit and said, "He's a general and I'm your mother. We both outrank you. Bedtime, kiddo."

"But I-"

"I'll be back," promised Avocato, hauling Gary from his chair by his leather coat. "You've got the bridge until then, Goodspeed."

The instant the door closed behind them, a hyperactive cry of, "Gary! GaryGaryGaryGaryGARY!" broke the quiet and KVN zoomed down the corridor at them, arms open wide to embrace Gary. In a flash, Avocato's blaster was in hand and aimed at the robot as he promised, "I'll do it."

"Yes, please," begged Gary, hands clasped in anticipation.

To Gary's disappointment, KVN had not forgotten the first time Avocato had shot him, nor the second. All present knew Avocato didn't make idle threats. KVN stopped mid-Gary and darted down the closest hall, waving a pincer in simultaneous greeting and farewell.

"Catch ya later, buddy!" squeaked annoyance personified, beating a hasty retreat. They could hear him chanting Gary's name until he entered the access tube leading to the engine room.

"Why do you tolerate that pain in the ass?" wondered Avocato.

"It's not by choice. KVN's pretty much indestructible."

The Ventrexian looked thoughtful. "I'll get our kid on it."

Despite his fatigue, or perhaps fueled by it, Gary let out a laugh to hear Avocato refer to Little Cato as theirs. Avocato was perfectly willing to go along with this mismatched family thing that had been established, though Gary knew it pained his friend to have any sort of relationship with Sheryl Goodspeed.

There were two refresher units on the Crimson Light, and Avocato paused outside the one designated for the males to use. Opening the door, he gestured Gary inside.

"You've got ten minutes. You and your clothes had better come out smelling a lot better than going in or you're sleeping in the airlock."

Gary gave up the fight, rolling his eyes in childish disgust. "Yes, Dad."

"And brush your teeth."

His answer was a non-verbal gesture tossed over his shoulder. It did nothing more than generate a snort of amusement out of his friend.

Stripping down for a shower, Gary suddenly understood Avocato's complaint because 1. he stank, and not only could he not remember the last time he'd slept, but he knew it had been even longer since he'd showered and/or changed his clothes, and 2. he looked like hell. Dark circles under his eyes, every line on his face standing out, and an overall air of Gary, you look like crap – we're talking Lord Commander levels of crap building a house on crap out of crap here. Small wonder Avocato had lowered the boom.

He stood in the shower and let the hot water wash over him, sluicing away grime and sweat from the stresses of the past week. Being naked and wet woke him up a bit, but his energy levels were still hovering at zero. Gary put his head right under the shower, enjoying the heat and its effect on his body. With relaxation came aches, but worse than sore muscles was the anxiety of the what-ifs and uncertainties that followed closer than KVN.

What were their fuel levels? Had Little Cato fixed the seat in the lower gun turret yet? What if it broke again mid-battle and something happened to his son? Had HUE and Fox patched that crack in the hull right next to the docking bay ramp? What was the food situation? How far were they from a planet where they could stock up? So many things needed to get done. It was endless.

And here he was standing in the shower. He didn't have time for this. Not really. Not if he was supposed to be the captain of this ship. Team. Squad . . . Family. It was too bad the water couldn't wash his problems away like so much scum, but the refresher system was totally contained, constantly purifying and recycling the water. Even if it sloshed all his troubles down the drain, they'd just get recycled in five minutes and come right back at him. Maybe he should try the sonic showers Little Cato and Avocato preferred (Ventrexians and water did not mix well, and though Gary knew water held no fear for Avocato and he could swim very well, he'd just as soon gnaw his own leg off as get wet on purpose). He thought about it, and his weary brain rebelled at the notion of replacing this hot water with sound waves or the notion of a wet cat shaking his fur up on the bridge. Ugh. Hair everywhere. He'd leave the Ventrexians to their notions of a relaxing shower.

Exactly ten minutes later, Avocato banged on the door. Before Gary could grab a towel, Avocato, who very deliberately never broke eye contact with him, stomped in, dropped a neatly folded stack of clean clothes on the counter, and stomped out.

No one on the Crimson Light owned anything resembling a wardrobe, (not even Tribor, now safely back leading the Resistance, who basically had an endless supply of accessories). Most of them just wore what they had arrived in and were glad of that much. Gary owned two shirts, one stinky and on its way to the cleaning unit, and one clean and in the pile of clothes before him. Where Avocato had scrounged up the worn workout pants Gary neither knew nor cared. They were soft and warm and only a little too big and at this stage of the game, just wearing something different was an indulgence.

Avocato was holding up the wall opposite the door when Gary emerged clean, shaven, with damp hair and carrying his boots and jacket. He made a show of sniffing the air, that small pink nose twitching. "Much better." He jerked his head toward their room. "Bed."

"Not giving up on that, are you?"

"No."

"But what if -"

"Now."

"But-"

"Gary."

"So, when did you sleep last?" was Gary's belated argument, recognizing Avocato's warning tone.

"Nice try." With the grace of a dancing master, Avocato side-stepped the question with practiced ease. Here was a man who clearly knew how to function on no sleep. "That's not the issue."

"What is?" wondered Gary. He tried to be challenging, but he was so tired it came out sounding like some curious kid in science class.

Avocato waited to follow him into the room before answering. "Trust."

"That's . . . not what I . . . I don't follow."

Avocato pointed at the bed, not about to be swayed. Damn, he was good. He knew every bed-avoidance trick in the book. Gary huffed and obeyed, climbing under the blanket.

"What has trust got to do with sleep?"

"Everything," said Avocato, using the same gentle tone he used with Little Cato when he wanted his son to listen closely. "Gary, you know I've been a soldier almost all my life. I've been in pitched battles that have lasted everywhere between fourteen seconds to five weeks. I didn't pilot the fighters or man the turrets or navigate the ship or tend the wounded. I had people for that. I was the one in command. That means I took in information and made decisions. My job was to direct the battle and win, and I did."

Snuggled under his blanket, Gary considered, reading between the lines of what Avocato was trying to tell him. It wasn't lost on him that in terms of education, experience, and ability, Avocato had all of them beat. He was the most capable person aboard and yet here he was helping Gary to be a better leader, a role he could have filled effortlessly, but chose not to.

"That . . . doesn't sound easy."

"At first? No. One of the things I did that drove the Lord Commander crazy was I lead from the front. I'd go planetside to lead the troops and my flagship was always in the thick of a battle. I refused to send my troops in to do anything I wouldn't. I was in trouble constantly with him, but the end result was an army that would have followed me into hell. And did," he added more to himself. "It was a big part of my falling out with the Lord Commander. The army was more loyal to me than to him. It scared him, and it should have. He expected complete loyalty, but wouldn't give it. That was his mistake. If he'd given me what I was willing to give him, nothing in this universe could have stopped him.

"One of the hardest lessons I had to learn in my first command back in Ventrexia's fleet was to trust the people under me to do the jobs they were trained for so I could do mine. As a leader, you owe it to the people depending on you to take care of yourself. That includes eating and sleeping and showering. That includes stepping back and trusting the people around you will do what they're supposed to without you there to check on them. Even if you can't trust the person, you need to be able to trust their skills and have confidence in their work. It's not easy, but you've called yourself the captain for as long as I've known you - it's time to start acting like it."

"I've been micro-managing, haven't I?"

Avocato shrugged. "I've seen worse. Out of you."

He was sure Avocato had. "I . . . worry. A lot."

"I know. But you don't have to worry about everything."

"Healthy people trust, huh?"

"Uh-huh. And the one you have to start with is yourself, Gary."

Well. This was a boatload to process. Gary stared off into middle space, trying to put Avocato's words into context. Did he trust his mother? No. Not really. They had a long way to go before there was anything like genuine consideration between them. Did he trust Sheryl Goodspeed's piloting skills? Absolutely. She was the best he'd ever seen. Did he trust her to save them if it came to that? He knew she'd get them through whatever the galaxy or the Titans threw at them if for no other reason than she didn't want to die yet.

"Yeah . . . I kinda see what you mean. Clarence and I were always fighting to be the one in charge, but now that he's gone, I just kinda stepped into the role."

"Leadership is an acquired skill. You've got the aptitude for it. Just remember what you give to the people around you, they'll give back."

"So, step one is trust, huh?"

"No, actually, that's step two. Step one is surround yourself with capable people, then learn to trust them."

He nodded, seeing the wisdom of this advice. In fact, this whole pep talk/bedtime story/teaching moment combo package paired up with a nap was just what he needed. "So what's step three?"

"Get some sleep."

"No, seriously."

"Seriously. You can't take care of anyone until you can take care of yourself. Since you are also Little Cato's father, I expect you to set the example."

"That's some good motivation," he had to admit.

Avocato smiled, heading for the door. "It's kept me on track for the past twelve years, baby."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Spider Cat, how're those engines looking?"

"So good, they're lookin' almost as good as you, Thunder Bandit!" Little Cato called over the intercom.

"Pretty damned sweet, then!" said Gary with a grin, gripping the controls tightly enough to feel the faint hum of power that coursed through the Crimson Light and up to his hands. His bionic hand gave him a slightly different sensation from his real hand, and he took a moment to appreciate both. Beside him in the co-pilot seat, Sheryl smirked, catching his enthusiasm as he called, "Ash, shields up! Quinn, call out any and all weirdness on the scanners."

He glanced back at his best friend as Little Cato and Mooncake hurried onto the bridge. The round green alien chirped happily at Gary while Little Cato and stood beside his father, looking smug and pleased. Avocato favored Gary with an approving smile and quick nod, quirking one of those inexplicable but thoroughly necessary eyebrows his way in expectation. Quinn saw the exchange and with a quick look offered her support. Ash gave a toneless, "Woo!" and slo-mo fist pump. Fox, not to be left out, said, "Let's do this thang!"

He had taken Avocato's advice to heart, forcing himself to step back and let his team squad each do their thing in their own way. The three youngest had responded by rising to the occasion with scary amounts of energy and spirit. Gary watched all three teenagers grow more confident, and even Ash took quiet pride in being relied upon and not being second-guessed. Quinn had recognized what he was trying to do and helped set the example by listening, asking for guidance she didn't need, and showing Gary the respect that had been lacking for too long. Even his mother had reined in the comments and treated him with a hint of deference.

"Ready, Mom?"

Sheryl Goodspeed snorted faintly. "I was born that way."

"Avo-cat-oooo! I need some direction!"

"Course has been laid in for the last hour, Gary," was the bored reply from the navigator's chair.

Gary let out a laugh, never before having been so sure of himself, the ship, and his crew.

"AVA, full power! Let's light this candle!"

Because with all of them beside him, there wasn't anything he couldn't do.