“Another Turning Point”

Chapter Two: The Fork in the Road

“You don’t understand,” Wildwing said firmly, surprise tingeing his words. “Oh, you have no comprehension, bro.”

Canard scoffed. “Come on. How much could it be?”

Pulling the jeep into the driveway, Wildwing stepped on the brake and threw the vehicle into park. Taking a collecting breath, he focused sternly on his twin brother. “Two million in one account, three in the other.”

Blink.

Blink.

An abrupt gasp.

A strangled voice. “W—What?”

Wildwing smirked and opened the door, sliding down to the ground. “Exactly what I thought. The two million Harper allotted for me to take care of Dive; the other account is to be given to Dive on his twenty-first hatching day.”

Canard followed his brother to the stairs. “Hold the puck. How could Harper have accrued all that money?”

“Well, apparently being on the Executive Generals pays pretty handsomely, coupled with the fact that he only had to support he and Dive, and add in a financial advisor, I think it’s pretty easy,” Wildwing spurted, opening the door to the house.

Nosedive’s petrified voice pierced the air. “OH! OH STARS! NO!”

Mechanically, Canard and Wildwing freed their puck launchers from behind their backs and rushed into the living room. Launchers cocked in front of them, there was a collective scream, and three bodies flattened themselves against the floor. One person grabbed a board and held it above his head.

“We’re playing a game! A game!” Nosedive’s voice once more blared, waving the cardboard in the air. “See!”

Wildwing sighed, his adrenaline still running on overdrive. “Stars, kiddo,” he said breathlessly, “don’t scream like that. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Yeah, give us some warning,” Canard added and un-cocked his launcher. He once more holstered it under his jacket.

Nosedive rolled his eyes and dropped the board to the ground. “Sorry. Kalore just brought our franchise. Do you know how much money that’s worth?”

Wildwing’s eyes caught the board—NHL Monopoly. A small smile edged itself onto his beak. His little brother must have brought it back from Earth.

“I have some idea, kiddo.” Wildwing peered about the room, noticing Kalore, Slapshot, and Tremaine picking themselves up off the floor. In the past few weeks, he had become acquainted to Nosedive’s friends. Still, he glared suspiciously, noticing a worrisome aspect. “Where’s Shane?”

Nosedive thumbed toward the kitchen, then broom-ed the pieces of the game together on the floor with his hands. “He’s in the kitchen. He figured with everyone here, it would okay to leave me.”

Disgruntled, Slapshot accessed, “The game’s washed.” She threw the remnants of her money into the box.

“Yeah, I’m bankrupt anyway,” Nosedive agreed.

Canard shared a skeptical look with Wildwing. Far from it, actually.

“You guys want to play Bop-It?”

Tremaine’s head perked up. “I’m game!”

“To the Duck Cave!” Nosedive, leaving the game out across the room, shuffled out of the room, his friends in tow. As he passed, Wildwing ruffled his longer, more acceptable golden locks.

“If you need anything, yell,” he reminded his little brother, to which he received, “We’ll yell when we need pizza.”

“Does he have any other word in his vocabulary?” Canard teased, as Wildwing turned to the kitchen. A hand quickly impeded his movement, grasping him firmly by his elbow.

“Uh, Wing, do you think it’s wise to let them up there alone?”

“Why?” Wildwing was bewildered. “Nosedive’s with his friends.”

“No, not that. There’s two girls, two guys…” Canard let his voice wane, and when Wildwing still didn’t comprehend, he elaborated, “Remember what we did when we were nineteen and brought girls home?”

Wildwing’s eyes widened suddenly, and he blazed past Canard. Dashing up the stairs, taking two at time, he noticed first that Dive’s door was ridiculously wide open. No one who was doing what he and Canard had done would have left the door open for others to watch.

“Bop-It!”

“Turn-It!”

“Hit-It!”

“Sh-IT!” Kalore screamed in resentful anger. Her hand dropped from the machine, as Nosedive jumped off the bed and to his feet.

“I play winner!”

Wildwing didn’t fight the warm smile that developed on his beak, and he retired downstairs.

*^*^*

Perching on the edge of his desk, Wildwing approached the class. “Well? Anyone?”

His students ducked their heads. Not one raised his/her head or hand.

Piqued, Wildwing shook his head and seethed, “Not one of you did your reading last night?”

The door to the room opened with a crack of age, and Nosedive appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe in brazen nonchalance, a defiant smirk upon his jubilant face. “Man, this seems like a lively group.”

“Hey kiddo,” Wildwing welcomed with a warm smile, his tone the complete opposite of how he had addressed the class. “What are you doing here?”

“Shane got called to work, and first he didn’t know where to put me, and then he had to take my motorcycle because his car wouldn’t start. So,” he took a deep breath to speak, “I was heading over to Tre’s to wait with his mom, but I don’t have wheels. So…can I barrow your jeep?”

“Why don’t you just take a seat in the back?” Wildwing offered. “I don’t want you on the road by yourself.”

Nosedive looked over the class, sickened, and shook his head. “Uh, please no.”

*Cough!* “Loser.”

Blinking, Nosedive looked down at the black-haired mallard in the midst of the class, hunched over and snickering with the cadets around him. “Are you serious?”

Wildwing lifted his hand and furled his fingers. “Cadet Gaverson, please stand.”

Haggardly and gruntingly, Sever rose to his feet.

“How smart are you?”

“Uh, I have a 3.49, sir,” the cadet ended his address with the utmost respect.

“I didn’t ask for your GPA, Gaverson. I asked you how smart you are,” Wildwing pointed out.

Sever regarded his professor with confusion, then said, “Smart, sir.”

“Then what would ever make you think that I would allow you make fun of my brother in my classroom?”

Sever opened his beak to speak, but had nothing to say.

Cough!* “Bitch.”

“Dive,” Wildwing chastised, his expression relentless. “No.”

“Oh, come on—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Nosedive.”

Nosedive growled, “Fine,” through his clenched teeth.

“Gaverson, you may sit.” Taking his keys out his pocket, Wildwing threw them to his little brother. “Be careful, okay?”

Nosedive saluted mockingly. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

As he retreated out of the room, Wildwing scrutinized his apathetic class. Instantly, he blurted, “Nosedive!”

An exaggerated sigh sounded from the hallway, then a “I knew it was too easy” was followed by stomping footsteps. “Yeah?” Nosedive asked tersely when he returned.

Wildwing smiled obligingly. “Give us the principle military tactics.”

Nosedive grimaced. “Wing, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Give them, Dive,” Wildwing pressured.

Exhaling in defeat, Nosedive leaned against the doorframe, lackadaisical. “Identification of objectives, concentration of effort, exploiting prevailing weather, exploiting night, maintenance of a reserve, economy of force, force protection, use of fortifications fieldworks, use and improvement of terrain, multiple axis of movement, AND reconnaissance.”

“I hope you all wrote that down,” Wildwing addressed the class. He then stood, straightening his legs. “If you did, good because you can use it on your pop quiz. Take out a piece of paper.”

A chorus of groans sounded through the room, and Nosedive took amusement in not having to take part. His brother certainly knew how to make his day.

“Tailsucker.”

“Asshole,” Nosedive spat back at Cadet Gaverson as he swiveled.

Sever shot to his feet, his chair tumbling against the ground. “You shouldn’t even be here!”

“Gaverson! Get back in your seat!” Wildwing ordered.

Nosedive ignored his brother and snickered. “What? Don’t like not knowing what that means?”

“Nosedive!”

“I don’t care what it means!” Sever hollered, then sibilantly seethed, “You don’t deserve to be on campus. The only reason you’re here is because of your brother, and the only reason you were even enrolled in this academy was because of your father.”

“Look in the mirror lately, Gaverson? Headmaster Daddy pull a few strings?”

With a roar of frustration, Sever lunged at Nosedive. The object of his attack whirled out of the way, then delivered a backhand to the cadet’s beak. Sever backpedaled, but then swept with a kick. Blocking it with a forearm, Nosedive retaliated with his own kick to Sever’s stomach. The cadet flung backwards, crashing into desks and tumbling to the floor.

“Flashblade! Flashblade!” The class encircling the two teens cheered.

Growling, Sever pushed to his feet, then faked to punch Nosedive in the stomach, but then snuck a retaliation punch to the blonde’s beak. Recovering quickly, Nosedive dove for Sever, wrapping his arms around the cadet’s waist and dragging him to the ground. Straddling Sever’s stomach, Nosedive wound up to attack again when two strong arms contorted his waist and heaved him off his enemy. Forcibly, he was pushed toward the door, yet Nosedive managed to turn around and struggle to get at Gaverson. His older brother held him tightly and threw him out the door.

“Go to the office!” Wildwing directed succinctly at him.

“But he started—” Nosedive began to thrash his way through, to which Wildwing just shoved him farther down the hall.

“GO!”

Glaring in disdain disbelief, Nosedive shook his head, hurt, but did as his brother commanded.

*^*^*

“Jerkface.”

“Jerkweed.”

“Can’t think of your own comebacks anymore? Have to copy mine?”

“Bite me, Flashblade.”

“Don’t want to, but thanks for the offer.”

Sitting in his normal seat in the Headmaster’s office, Nosedive crossed his feet on the coffee table. Across from him sat Sever Gaverson. Nosedive rose his eyes just enough to sneak a peek. While he had a little blood seeping from his beak, Sever was definitely worse for wear. Dirt from his boot imprinted on Sever’s uniform, blood seeping from a small cut on the cadet’s forehead, nursing a hurt wrist from bracing himself, Nosedive-three, Sever-one.

“What are you looking at?” Sever grated.
“My winnings.”

“You didn’t win.”

“You surely didn’t,” Nosedive retorted.

“You want to go right here, right now?”

Nosedive smirked. “I’m for two-out-of-three.” Pulling back his legs from the table, he stood firmly.

Sever wavered to his feet. Ah, concussion. Four-one. When Sever finally stood, he stood rigidly.

“I’m going to wipe the ice with you,” the headmaster’s son threatened.

“You’ll fail.”

“You both won’t even try,” the headmaster’s unremitting voice proclaimed.

Both teens glared at the open office. Headmaster Gaverson and Wildwing filtered out of it, immediately positioning themselves between Nosedive and Sever.

“Nosedive, go. Now,” Wildwing ordered and pointed to the door.

Nosedive cringed internally, so as not to show Sever. When his brother used that tone, he meant for no argument. Advisedly, Nosedive headed toward the door.

“Drakehandled.”

Nosedive pivoted, but Wildwing quickly caught him. “Go,” his brother just said.

“Wait! I need the last word!”

Of course, Wildwing just forced him out the door. Nosedive squirmed, but trailed behind his older brother as they walked toward the jeep. Wildwing didn’t speak to him at all on the way, which only unsettled Nosedive more so. Once they were inside, they simply sat in an uncomfortable silence. Nosedive glanced over at his brother, who refused to put the key in the ignition. The teen ducked his head and waited. Wildwing would get around to saying what he had to, and when he did, it would be a doozy.

Like usual and unfortunately, he was right.

“What did you think you were doing?” Wildwing finally started, his voice reserved but stern.

Nosedive shrugged. Whatever he had to say Wildwing probably wouldn’t like.

“That’s not an appropriate answer, Nosedive,” his brother admonished.

Man… “I dunno. Someone had to put him in his place.”

“That’s my job, not yours,” Wildwing reprimanded bitterly.

“Well, you weren’t doing a great job of it.” As the words left his beak, Nosedive regretted it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, it was.” The tone in his voice indicated a change in the conversation. Wildwing was hurt.

“Wing, you don’t understand what it was like for me, okay?” Nosedive said, bending his knee on his seat and maneuvering himself so he could look at his brother. “I had to live six months with those people, and that’s just what they said in front of you. Can you imagine when there were no professors around?”

Wildwing sighed, turning toward his brother. “Yes. I went there, remember?”

“Yeah,” Nosedive answered wryly. “I’ve been trying to live that down. ‘Why can’t you be more like your brother?’ Trust me. More professors told me that than I had.”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to fight Sever.”

“He lunged at me. Do you have selective memory or what?” Nosedive twisted away from his brother and crossed his arms.

Wildwing stared at his palms. “But this is my job, Nosedive. You can’t go around fighting my students.”

“Fighting them is better than sticking up for them,” Nosedive accused flippantly.

“Care to say that again?” Wildwing challenged.

“You grabbed me! You didn’t go after him!”

“You were on top of him!”

Nosedive snorted dismissively. “So? You could have stopped him before it got to that point!”

A tense silence.

“I can’t touch him,” Wildwing said lowly.

Nosedive didn’t follow his brother’s thinking. “Come again?”

“I can’t touch him,” repeated Wildwing. “I’m not allowed to touch him. As a professor, I’m not allowed to touch any of my students. You, on the other hand, I can. That’s why I grabbed you.”

“Oh.” Nosedive continued to stare out the car window. Starkly, a few seconds later, he added, “Sorry.”

“Baby bro, I’m always on your side,” Wildwing affirmed, clasping his brother’s shoulder, “even if it doesn’t look like I am.”

Nosedive looked back at him suspiciously. “What’s that supposedly to mean?”

Wildwing shrugged and smirked. “I let you get a few punches in, didn’t I?”

“But—”

“We’ve sparred before. You know I can take you sometimes before you land your first punch, and that’s when you’re focused on me. You don’t think I could have checked you before you kicked him?”

Nosedive shook his head in disbelief, then grinned. “Thanks, but how did you know I could take him?”

Wildwing didn’t hide his pride. “Please. You could take anyone in that school, but there’re the only licks you’re getting, kiddo.” He placed the key in the ignition and started the jeep. “You’re just lucky that the headmaster and I are on good terms or that could have been job.”

Nosedive grinned, then teased, “Tailsucker.”

“Sever might not be able to take you,” Wildwing warned lovingly, “but I can.”

Nosedive slouched in his seat. Darn it, but his brother was right.

*^*^*

Nosedive barreled down the stairs. His band had a gig again! Finally, his brothers could actually watch him play!

He dropped the phone into its holder and vaulted into the living room, a gleeful smile barely contained on his face. “Wildwing! You’ll never guess what!” He didn’t wait for a reply. “My band has a—” He halted at the sight of Mallory sitting on the couch and Wildwing in the chair, but that wasn’t what made his blood freeze in his veins and the hair on his neck stand on edge. Mallory usual was over at least once a week, since this was where she met Uncle Duke for their dates.

It was the drake next to Mallory that unhinged him.

“Dive, come here,” Wildwing directed as he stood, placing his drink on the table.

Nosedive didn’t budge. His unforgiving eyes didn’t waver, as they construed the horrors of his past. They pierced the imperial drake as he stood and neared Nosedive.

Wildwing didn’t seem to notice. “Little bro, have you ever met General McMallard, Mallory’s father?”

McMallard offered his hand. His eyes were soft, as was his voice, a contrast from his hard face and sharp beak. His unrelenting green eyes focused intensely upon the rigid teen. “Yes, Wildwing. We’ve met before when you were entering the academy, right, son?”

Nosedive stared with brash resentment at the drake, then the hand given, and back at the drake’s feigned warm face. Abruptly, Nosedive dashed to the door, grabbing his boots and not even bothering to put them on. “I’m going out,” he muttered, slamming the door behind him.

He didn’t realize he lacked his helmet or jacket until he reached the driveway. Wonderful. Not to mention, his socks were utterly saturated, dirtied, and chillingly cold from shuffling over the snow. Sighing, he dropped onto the ice, numbing his hind quarters, and pulled on his boots. Wildwing would be angry for leaving alone, but oh, well. He couldn’t stay there. Not now. Not with him.

“Hey!” A harsh voice yelled, and Nosedive whined as he straddled his bike. He had forgotten the principle rule of the Bronzeplume house: where you’re going, when you’ll be back, and with whom. “I know. I know. Tremaine’s. Whenever McMallard’s gone. Tremaine.”

Wildwing huffed as he slowed from his brisk jog to Nosedive’s bike. “What was that?”

“Nothing, okay?” Nosedive reassured, none-too-well. His voice faltered miserably. “I’ll be back later.”

“You know you’re not allowed out of the house without anyone at anytime!” Wildwing hollered, but Nosedive could tell it was out of concern, not anger. “You had no idea if the murderer was out here or not, and we were lucky this time, but that doesn’t mean...” His voice trailed as he lost the will to fight. “Look, I can’t accompany you to Tremaine’s right now, so just come inside the house until General McMallard leaves.”

Nosedive couldn’t fight the vehement shiver that worked its way through his system. “I…can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? It’s Mallory’s father,” Wildwing felt compelled to point out.

Nosedive heard the unspoken truth in his words. “Look, I know you’re trying to make a good impression on McMallard for Duke, so once Mallory tells her father that she’s going out with a former thief, he’ll be more accepting. I’m not completely dense, but…” He shook his head in a flat out refusal. “I can’t feign nicey-nice. Not with…him.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t. I’m sorry, Wildwing.”

“You don’t get off that easily, kiddo,” Wildwing chastised. “Whole story, now.”

Nosedive crossed his arms, though more from anger than coldness. Wildwing misconstrued that and draped his coat over the boy’s shoulders. Still, Nosedive accepted it. Anytime his brother reinforced his love, even if it was through ministrations, Nosedive reveled in it.

“Look,” the teen started reluctantly, “McMallard was the one who was dead set on sending me to the academy. He kept telling me that I had a responsibility to the planet to be a leader and show my continued loyalty to the government and the freedom of Puckworld. I told him my dad would have wanted me to do what I wanted, not what others told me to, and he said my dad would see me as a disappointment if I didn’t go the academy and reached my potential as a cadet.

“He conned the Prime Leader into forcing me to go there under an Executive Decree, and I finally just told him to ‘Fuck off.’ When he dragged me into the academy and left me there, he turned to me and said, ‘Fuck off and hope you have a fucking good time.’

“Please, big bro,” Nosedive practically begged, gripping his brother’s arm pleadingly. “Please don’t make me go back in there. Please.”

Wildwing, eyes softening, gazed back at the house, then at Nosedive. Sighing, he grasped his little brother’s wrist and pulled. “Come on.”

Nosedive tugged back. “Wing…please…”

Assuring him with an affectionate smile, Wildwing pulled gently, “Trust me.”

When his brother put it that way…Grudgingly, Nosedive allowed himself to be dragged off his bike and albeit with a grunt, back into the house. Releasing his brother’s wrist at the opening of the living room, Wildwing addressed General McMallard on the couch. “Sir, did you really say that to my brother?”

Regaining his footing McMallard peered harshly at the former leader of the Mighty Ducks. “I don’t follow you, Bronzeplume. I have hardly said two words to your brother tonight.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Wildwing seethed through his gritted teeth. Pointing an accusing finger at McMallard’s chest, the older brother asserted, “You had no right whatsoever not to inform me nor to speak to my brother in that fashion, sir.”

“Wildwing,” Mallory spoke as she appeared at her father’s side, “what’s going on?”

“Ask your father.”

Mallory blinked and redirected her bewildered gaze to her father. “Dad?”

General McMallard regarded Wildwing, then Nosedive with transparent hostility. His voice softened to his daughter, though. “You have a responsibility, Mallory. You all have a reasonability to Puckworld and our people to be role models for them. Whether or not you realize it, you and your teammates are public figures now and should be the exemplar of a Puckworlder citizen.” His voice hoarsened, and he turned to Wildwing. “In that sense, Bronzeplume, your brother should respect your responsibility to help to better Puckworld and should not interfere with that.”

“He wasn’t interfering,” Wildwing interjected. “He needed me, and I should have been here for him.”

“The citizens took comfort in knowing that their glorious hero was out there, fighting to free their planet,” McMallard retorted, “and that should take precedence over a foul-mouthed teenager who needs a swift kick in his tail to take his place.”

“That’s not your decision to make! You should never have forced Nosedive into the academy if he didn’t want to go, and you shouldn’t make judgments of people you don’t even know.”

“Do not lecture me, Bronzeplume. Your brother should respect me for if nothing else than my position—”

“Respect is earned, General, not given.”

“And your brother needs to grow up—”

“He grew up enough on Earth where he was forced to be a commando first, kid second. Now that he doesn’t need to be, I’m not going to let you or anyone else force him to be something he shouldn’t have to be yet.” Wildwing moved to the side allowing McMallard a route of passage. “Leave.”

With reservation, McMallard spoke again, “Your brother has a bigger responsibility than you know. He probably hasn’t told you, has he?”

Through squinted eyes, Wildwing prompted, “Told me what?” He briefly glanced back at Nosedive inquisitively, but his little brother just graced him with an uninformative shrug and bewildered expression.

“He has the crux of the defense system for Puckworld,” McMallard charged.

“Huh?” Nosedive’s eyebrows arched in the middle of his forehead. “What are you on?”

McMallard took a step forward toward Nosedive. “The initiation to the shield. Your father had it at the time of his murder. The Prime Leader shut down the project, but the Legion didn’t want to destroy it. We spent too much money, so your father and I put it on hiatus. Harper wanted to make sure the shield wouldn’t be activated, so he advised to give the initiation to you. Since you had practice with the H.O.C.-Key, he said you’d know how to safeguard the most imperative of devices. It would also take the pressure off of him because as the point man, people would be after him.” McMallard halted in front of Nosedive. “Foolishly, the Prime Leader agreed with your father, and Harper gave it to you. Therefore, it is time you accepted your responsibility and grew up. Become a contributing member to society, you undeserving, meddlesome—”

Nosedive, face scrunched in offense, opened his beak to retort—

—Simultaneously, a fist connected with his face. McMallard staggered backwards, clutching his right cheek.

“WILDWING!” Mallory screamed, running to her father side.

Wildwing stood at his brother’s side, firm and resolute. “Get the fuck out of my house. Now.”

There was an unspoken threat wielded with the spoken one, and Nosedive found himself smirking at his brother’s brash language.

McMallard dropped his hand from his face, a harsh glower radiating from his eyes. “Your father would be disgraced.”

“I’m sure it’s not me giving him that feeling,” Nosedive said offhandedly. “Maybe it’s what his supposed friends have done to his son.” With that, the teen opened his door and slammed it after McMallard left.

Nosedive eyed his brother wearily, leaning against the back of the door. “Uh, thanks.” He rubbed his forearm in a habitual nervous gesture. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You shouldn’t be uncomfortable in your own home,” Wildwing asserted sincerely, “and you’re still a kid, Dive. You shouldn’t be forced to be an adult yet.”

Nosedive sent him a tentative smile, which at the sight of Mallory, crumbled to a frown. Oh, his soon-to-be aunt was…indifferent, though her eyes were hard.

“Do really have the initiation?” She asked pointedly.

Suppressing a sigh, Nosedive rubbed the back of his forearm. “I don’t know. Robyn didn’t say anything about it.”

“Who?” Wildwing interrogated urgently. “Who did you talk to?”

“Robyn,” Nosedive stressed, shaking his head at his brother’s all-too-frequent overreaction. “Robyn McFeather. I saw her at the mall a few weeks ago. She worked under my dad. She told me Dad was the point-man on the shield, but she didn’t say anything about the project being canned.”
“Well, do you have it?” Wildwing asked starkly.

“Not that I know of.” Nosedive shrugged, then pushed off the door.

Luckily he did, for less than a second later, the door behind opened. Duke slipped into the foyer, almost bumping into Nosedive’s back. “Sorry, kid. Didn’t think you would be there.”

Nosedive appealed to Wildwing, cringing. “Uh, Wing, feeling just a little uncomfortable.”

“Uh, did I miss something here?” Duke replied curiously, looking at Mallory.

Wildwing pushed his brother up the stairs. “Run.” He shoved him a little harder. “Run!”

*^*^*

“Sir,” Wildwing said as he poked his head into the headmaster’s office, “you wanted to see me?”

Headmaster Gaverson’s head rose at the address, and an instant smile formed upon his face. “Captain Bronzeplume, yes. Please come in.”

Wildwing shut the door behind him. The office was brightly lit, despite the snowstorm raging out the window. The décor was teal and maroon with the carpet being the latter and the chairs and couch the former. The general’s wooden desk in the middle of the room was rather empty with only a few papers littering it.

The headmaster put his folder aside when Wildwing took a seat in the chair in front of his desk. “Coffee?” He offered, gesturing toward the coffeemaker in the corner.

Wildwing declined with a shake of his head and prompted, “How’s Sever? He hasn’t really been himself in my class since he and Nosedive fought.”

“Injured pride, nothing more,” Gaverson replied, albeit with a smile. “I think the fight did him good, actually. He had an inflated head. Losing really put things into prospect.” The headmaster shifted into a more comfortable position in front of a friend. “How’s your brother?”

Wildwing shrugged absently. “The same as ever.”

“I haven’t seen him in a few days here. I was under the impression he would be joining you almost daily.”

“Shane and Canard both have desk jobs currently. He’s been going with them to work and helping as a go-for.” A knowing smirk formed on his face. “He doesn’t like it, but it’s better than hanging in the back of my classroom.”
The headmaster chuckled. “I’m sure. Now, tell me. How’s the custody battle going?”

“Not really a battle, sir,” Wildwing disagreed. “I’m just waiting to be cleared by the courts.” Cocking his head to the side, he induced, “Sir, is there a reason you called? Were my evaluations not par?”

“Oh, not at all. They were outstanding actually.” The general hesitated, then laid his arms across the desk, hands knotted. “Wildwing, your brother could do well here.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir, but he doesn’t want to come.”

“But with you here, don’t you think the transition would be less severe? He might even enjoy the atmosphere. I know the performance he gave earlier was only a fraction of what it could be. He could be an even better cadet than you if he tried.”

“I know, sir,” Wildwing suppressed a sigh. He had been being done that too much lately. “He just really wants to be a normal kid, and I’m not going to deprive him of that.”

“But Nosedive has so much potential.” The headmaster persisted firmly. “I think we need to foster that, not let it lay idle.”

“Why are you pushing this?” Wildwing asked minutely, staring just as piercingly at the general. He sat on the edge of his chair. “Nosedive doesn’t want to enroll. With all due respect, sir, what’s it to you?”

Headmaster Gaverson thrust his seat back and stood, striding to the window. He took a deep, collecting breath, avoiding Wildwing’s impelling eyes. “What I am about to you is in extreme confidence.” His voice was rigid, leaving no room for argument. “You may contact your lawyer, but you did not hear this from me.”

Wildwing couldn’t see the expression on the general’s face, but the former leader did not like his tone and stance. “What is it?”

The headmaster sighed, and his body slumped in the release of tension. “Captain Icebeak, your brother’s advisor, is going to file an injunction to your custody case. He wants Nosedive back here until custody is official revoked.”

“What?” Wildwing protested. “He can’t do that!”

The headmaster turned around, his eyes focusing fiercely upon Wildwing. “He can, and he will. After General McMallard and the Prime Leader decided not to contact you, the Legion received custody of your brother. In turn, the Commissioner’s Academy was given custody when your brother was enrolled, and in doing so, Captain Icebeak, as Nosedive’s advisor, became his guardian. Therefore, until custody is official relinquished to you, Captain Icebeak has the authority to commandeer Nosedive and would be in his legal rights to do so.”

Wildwing shook his head disbelievingly. After all Nosedive had been through, his brother thought he was free from the confinements of the academy and his abusive advisor.

Now, he was being forced back.

To Be Continued…