Page 73 of Cheating Fate

“No amount of this training will make you better,” I said.

“Gavin!” Zhara exclaimed, approaching us with a shocked expression. “Tharek can absolutely improve!”

I glared at her. “Stay out of it.”

“But—”

Rhadames placed his hand on Zhara’s shoulder and shook his head at her.

“Zhara!” he whispered disapprovingly.

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, clearly wanting to argue. Whatever look she saw on my face convinced her to leave it alone. I was pissed, but we would deal with that later.

“You don’t get to dictate what I do!” Tharek hissed.

“Yes, I do,” I snarled. “If you ever hope to join the Vigil, you’ll clamp down on that attitude and listen.”

“My brother will—”

“Your brother will heed his First Officer,” I snapped.

Tharek flinched. Even at his young age, he understood that arguing with that statement would imply that Vahleryon could be manipulated by family and emotions. What kind of General would that make him?

“The fact is that you’re fighting wrong,” I said firmly.

“I aced all the modules,” Tharek argued, visibly offended.

“Yes, I saw. No one questions your efforts and dedication,” I conceded. “But the modules you trained on are wrong for you.”

He blinked, taken aback by that comment.

“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

I waved at him, then pointed at the other trainees.

“You are not like them. They’re lithe and scrawny. You’re thick and bulky. Therefore, your center of gravity and weight distribution is vastly different,” I explained. “You will never succeed with the current training you’re receiving.”

Tharek frowned and nervously licked his lips while giving me an assessing look.

“So what do I do, then?”

“Finally, a good question,” I replied with a hefty dose of sarcasm. “Come.”

Without waiting for his response, I marched a short distance away towards one of the holographic training areas at the back. I issued a vocal command to generate a dummy, then grabbed a battle staff from the weapons rack nearby. I handed it to him. Zhara and Rhadames had followed us, but I pretended not to see them.

“I want you to swing as hard as you can to try to shatter that dummy,” I ordered.

He gave me a stiff nod and proceeded to swing. I forced myself to keep a neutral expression. Had we been back on Braxia, Grappa Krygor would have shamed him to oblivion and back. For him, that swing qualified as pathetic at best. And yet, any other species would look at this and call it impressive.

He looked at me proudly only to be deflated by the look on my face.

“Was that the hardest you could hit?” I asked.

“Yes,” Tharek replied, once more sounding defensive.

I shook my head and took the staff from him. “That’s too weak. You need to be able to do this.”

I gently pushed him aside and then swung at the dummy. It exploded in countless pieces, the force of the impact radiating the length of my arm. I loved that type of pain. It made me feel powerful.