Passing The Torch [A'zael/D'nel/G'rett]

[Zen]

10th Pass, 5th Turn, Early 11th Month

Weyrleader A'zael

He'd so far left the leadership lessons for the oldest Bronze and Brown Weyrlings up to B'rax to teach, since they were more focused on being a Wingsecond and Wingleader, as well as basic leadership skills, delegation, mediation, the like. But starting in the Weyrlings' 17th month, the duty passed to him. He was the only rider currently in residence at Mavros that knew what it was really like to be Weyrleader. Therefore... he was the best one to teach these young riders about what it took, what would be expected of them, should they ever hold the position one day. B'rax may have been something of an interim Weyrleader on the Council before Zalmaranth's maiden flight, but he had still had the Council to help him. He hadn't done it alone. Not that A'zael doubted that the man was capable of doing it on his own.

So he'd met with B'rax earlier in the day to review what he had already gone over with the five weyrlings he was expected to start teaching twice a sevenday until their graduation. He remembered his own lessons. It had only been him and B'nar, and after the Wingsecond/Wingleader lessons had concluded, B'rax had focused more attention on him than B'nar, being that B'nar rode a brown. A'zael found himself apologizing to his then friend after their lessons, feeling like he was being left out, like he was the one getting all the attention, but B'nar had taken it all in stride. He'd only laughed and said it was fine. It wasn't likely Godoth was going to be catching any golds, after all. A'zael needed to know this stuff more than him.

“What can you tell me about them? Anything I should know?” he'd asked the older bronzerider.

“Well.... It isn't likely that B'zor will ever be in a leadership position, unless his brown Litniroth is lucky enough to catch Zalmaranth, but that also seems... doubtful. He's a good young man, hard working, but... not leadership material. G'drin doesn't like to take anything seriously, so I don't particularly see him ever being granted a leadership position either, not unless or until he matures, at the least. He has potential, but he doesn't seem to want to use it,” B'rax informed him with a slight frown.

“Remind me... G'drin is... his dragon, I mean?” A'zael asked.

“Brown. Thundosomth. The other brownrider, T'yer of Muldiseth, he has a good head on his shoulders. And with Muldiseth's size, I could even see him managing to catch Zalmaranth if he was lucky. If nothing else, he would certainly make a good wingsecond once he's had a bit more experience, perhaps wingleader,” the man seemed to like this one.

A'zael hmm'd thoughtfully, “And the bronzeriders? G'rett and D'nel?” Their dragons' shiny hides made their names popular in the Weyr, “Which dragon is whose?”

“G'rett has Mastromideth, the larger of the two. D'nel's is Nadornith.”

“Right, the dark one,” he still remembered the shock of Nadornith's hatching. Everyone had thought him black at first.

“G'rett is reluctant, but I believe he has potential if he can be made to see it himself. D'nel is more confident, more comfortable. Good luck,” B'rax gave him a small smile, “I'm sure you'll do fine as a teacher.”

A'zael sighed, “Sure. Guess we'll find out.”

And find out they would. He leaned back against his desk as his five new students settled into their seats at the large table in the center of the room. They should already be familiar with the place, as he'd let B'rax use his office for their previous lessons. Once they'd all five settled in, he pushed to his feet, “B'rax probably already told you all, starting today I'll be taking over your extra lessons. We'll be switching from focus on the requirements of wingseconds and wingleaders to more indepth political lessons, as riveting as they sound, and the requirements of the rank of weyrleader, on the off chance any of your dragons are ever lucky enough to win a senior gold flight.”

He tried to keep the sarcasm to a minimum, but a little seeped through despite his best efforts. He stood at the head of the table and looked around at them all, “If you would, introduce yourselves. Once that's out of the way, if you have any questions about being weyrleader that you'd like answered right away, you can feel free to ask, and we'll go from there.” He nodded toward one of the brownriders, the color his dragon clear in his rank knots.

“I'm T'yer, rider of brown Muldiseth,” the younger man began, “If our lessons are shifting to weyrleader stuff... do brownriders really need to be here?”

“Yes. It's rare, of course, but it's not impossible for a brown to catch a gold. It's better for you to be as prepared as you can, just in case. Otherwise your Weyr will be left with a weyrleader that has no idea what he's doing,” he fought back the urge to use himself as an example. He waited, but T'yer only nodded, so he turned his attention to the next boy.

“G'drin, rider of brown Thundosomth,” the boy sat back in his chair, eyeing A'zael appraisingly. Hm. So this was the possible troublemaker? He'd been one too, during his candidate and weyrling days. Never taking anything seriously. The boy leaned forward again, “I got a question... do the girls just throw themselves at you when you're weyrleader? They do, don't they? I mean you got two from our class alone.”

A'zael raised an eyebrow at him. Bold, wasn't he. And yet he could see himself asking the same question, had he actually had a weyrleader to ask it to when he'd had these lessons. And a weyrleader with his reputation.... He wasn't initially sure what two girls the boy was referring to. Mollin, probably, which he wasn't going to talk about right now, or ever, with any of them, because it wasn't any of their sharding business. The other... Srunae, he supposed.

“They do, but that isn't the sort of question I meant, I apologize for not being clear,” he responded shortly, not giving G'drin the satisfaction of seeing him angry or annoyed. That had always been his goal with K'ton, not that it had been difficult to accomplish with the grumpy old watch wher. It was better to just not be phased at all. Not giving G'drin another chance to talk, he nodded at the next man, a brownrider by his knots, “Your name?”

“Oh, I'm B'zor, my dragon's brown Litniroth,” this one looked about A'zael's age, maybe older? The one B'rax didn't have much hope for when it came to leadership. So it wasn't surprising when no questions were forthcoming.

A'zael shifted his gray-blue gaze to the remaining two. The bronzeriders. He actually knew both of their names, and could match them up correctly, but he was still going to let them introduce themselves, “And you two?”

Alyx avon
If either of you two have any more smart comments from G'drin you'd like him to throw out through the course of this thread, feel free to play him a bit, I imagine him as a little shit xD

[Alyx]

G'rett - Bronze Mastromideth

This was part of the Course G’rett had both been waiting for and dreading. Haella already took great joy in teasing him about his standing as a Bronzer, often if he ever complained about anything in the Weyr. Be it lack of a certain thing or the crumbling of a bit of the Weyr’s structure, Haella would laugh and say in that sing-song teasing tone of hers, “Well, become Weyrleader and you can fix it then!” And he would cringe at her. She loved that reaction.

But as they moved on, and as Mastromideth got much, much bigger, G’rett was coming to terms with the fact that it was a very real possibility that he might be a Weyrleader in the future. It was not a comforting thought; he was a Healer, not a Noble – he knew nothing about politics and structure or anything like it. When he’d actually been told they would have a lesson or two on the topic of being ‘in charge’, he’d been both relieved and terrified. He hadn’t started having nightmares about becoming Weyrleader, but he had a feeling they weren’t far off at this rate.

Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, he took the chance as A’zael went around the table to really give the man a once-over look. Afterall, it was becoming clear to G’rett that Mavros seemed to run on rumors, and their Weyrleader was a prime target for most of the Gossip the weyrlings heard. He wasn’t at all surprised at G'drin’s sharp question; okay, maybe a little, but not much. It was far from secret exactly why Mollin and her Blue weren’t in lessons with the others, and then add in the chatter about Srunae? G’rett might have asked too, albeit worded a bit less like G’drin had done.

When the Weyrleader’s attention came to G’rett, the younger Bronzer brought his chin up to meet the look head on. He kept his face a little blank, not letting it be seen how he felt about being in this class.. or about the rep of the guy teaching it. “G’rett, rider of Bronze Mastromideth.” Did he have any questions? Well, he had loads, he could probably fill hours, but….

But he settled on a tamer one to start with. “How did you feel when you became Weyrleader? I mean.. were you ready?”

[Zen]

Weyrleader A'zael

Of the two, G'rett introduced himself first. His question was more personal than A'zael had expected, but it was at least an acceptable one, unlike G'drin's. A short laugh escaped before he could stop it, however. He coughed lightly. Well, he wasn't about to lie when he'd been asked point blank. “No. I wasn't,” he gave the quick answer first, but he didn't intend to leave it at that. G'rett had asked him how he'd felt. It was a bit more complex than that. “I had only been a full rider for four months. I had no experience, and really... no idea what I was doing, either.”

He gave the younger man a wan smile, “Scary thought... being led by someone so woefully unprepared.” He was far more confident in his position now, even if he still worried about anything and everything. With nearly two turns as Weyrleader down, he at least knew what he was doing at this point. He didn't need to get second opinions on every decision anymore. He held his hands out in a gesture of surrender, “I was scared. It didn't take me long to realize everything I said, everything I did, every decision I made, affected not just me, but the entire Weyr. I wasn't ready for that responsibility. Nor was I mature enough for it. I made choices I regret.”

He wasn't afraid to admit these things, because he had matured. And he wanted the five before him to know and understand that being Weyrleader was hard, it wasn't just some romantic adventure, getting to do whatever you wanted all while telling everyone else what to do. It wasn't easy, it wasn't simple. “But... I've never been one to back down from a challenge, and after everything Mavros has been through, I knew it deserved someone that would give their all... so that's what I've tried to do. I'm not perfect, I'll never claim that. No one is. No one can make the right decisions all the time. And even if it is the right decision, not everyone is going to like it. That's something else I've had to come to terms with... a particularly hard lesson for me.”

He cast a look around at them all, “I sincerely hope none of you are thrust into the position as early as I was. It is a difficult job, made infinitely more so by inexperience. But if you are, I hope you aren't afraid to ask for help. It is maturity, not weakness, to know your limits and seek the advice of those more experienced than you are, for the good of the Weyr. I was never very good at asking for help before I became Weyrleader... but I got over that quickly. Luckily, Karredy had the Council in place, and they agreed to remain in place until I got the hang of things. I honestly would have been lost without them.” The memory of Karredy's illness, her deterioration, the fear that they would lose her, Mavros's only gold, and the only hope Mavros had for its continued independence, flashed through his mind.

He shook his head lightly, “Sorry if that was a bit longwinded, but nothing about being Weyrleader is ever short and simple.” Wasn't that the truth. “Did you have anything else you wanted to ask right away?” It had been a good question, in the end. And it had made A'zael recall just how very far he had come from that immature boy playing at being Weyrleader to the man he was now. The past two turns seemed as though they'd spanned an entire lifetime.

[avon]

Weyrling D'nel

D'nel had been relieved to hear that their training would be handed over to A'zael for the remainder of their weyrlinghood. No more listening to B'rax drone on about leading Wing drills and dealing with pesky Wingriders. Having his own little Wing to command would be nice, but D'nel was interested in bigger fish. Learning about politics actually did sound riveting to him. That was where he wanted to be, pulling the strings.

He looked around at his fellow idiots weyrlings, suppressing a bored sigh as they began to introduce themselves. T'yer didn't seem particularly enthused to be here, but D'nel thought he should consider himself lucky to be included. He did roll his eyes at G'drin's question. "I would question the judgment of any woman who threw herself at you, G'drin, shiny hide or not." He had to give A'zael credit for not losing his temper at the weyrling, but a little show of authority wouldn't have hurt either. This was why G'drin thought he had the right to say whatever he wanted.

The third brown weyrling, B'zor, seemed quiet, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He could just be thinking, which the other weyrlings didn't seem to be doing much of.

He waited for G'rett to introduce himself, wanting to get the measure of the other bronzerider before jumping in. G'rett seemed like a hard worker, principled, and really boring. His dragon was the bigger threat, literally, a good deal larger than Nadornith. Nadornith was surely more clever, though. G'rett asked if A'zael had been ready to become Weyrleader, which in D'nel's opinion, was a painfully obvious answer. No. There weren't any tales about the heroism and strength of A'zael, were there? It was a pity he hadn't come to the Weyr sooner, when A'zael was still in such a weak position. Now it seemed like he knew what he was doing a bit more, but it also didn't sound like he wanted the power much. He just lived with it.

Once A'zael was finished, D'nel gave G'rett a moment to respond before taking his turn. "I'm D'nel, rider of bronze Nadornith." He met the Weyrleader's gaze steadily. "I'm looking forward to these lessons, so that we may be more prepared than you were. Maybe we can even be of some help to you. Hands-on experience would be the best way to learn," he said with a small smile.

[Zen]

Weyrleader A'zael

D'nel's insult didn't go unnoticed. G'drin glared over at the bronzerider, “Shut up, D'nel, no one asked you. Just 'cause you're a bronzerider, think you can-”

“Enough,” A'zael cut the boy off sharply. He wasn't about to listen to colorist nonsense as it was thrown around the room.

G'drin jabbed a finger at D'nel, “He started it.”

“Well then, you finish it,” A'zael eyed the young man, who opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off, “Are you a rider or a weyrbrat?”

G'drin sat his back in his chair like a petulant child, but kept his mouth shut, still glaring at D'nel.

A'zael looked over at the older weyrling as he introduced himself, “Well, D'nel, if you're looking forward to these lessons, you might not want to insult your peers and distract from them then.” G'drin smirked, clearly happy he wasn't the only one getting scolded. He glanced around at them all, a serious frown tugging at the corners of his lips, “You're all two months away from graduating into the fighting wings. Your classmates may very well be your wingmates. You need to be able to cooperate, trust, and rely on each other.” He gave D'nel a pointed look, “Insulting them doesn't particularly foster trust and cooperation. And if you can't trust your wingmates, can't work well with them, then you put your life in danger, your dragon's life, and the life of every dragon and rider around you.”

His gaze shifted back to G'drin briefly, “You don't have to be friends, but you do have to be civil. Think you can manage that?” He looked between the two, “Or should I suggest to K'ton that he pair you both up for team building exercises?” K'ton didn't like him, generally wouldn't give a shell about his suggestions, but K'ton also liked to torture weyrlings with tasks just such that he was suggesting, so A'zael was pretty confident it would actually happen if he put it in the man's head. The Weyrlingmaster knew just as well as he did that being able to work well with your wingmates was integral to the survival of the Weyr, and if you couldn't do it on your own he'd be more than happy to force you to.

G'drin looked mildly horrified at the thought and shook his head. No way he wanted to be forced into working with D'nel on Faranth knows what K'ton would come up with.

[Alyx]

G'rett - Bronze Mastromideth

The moment D'nel opened his mouth, the moment, G’rett had to resist the urge to groan and roll his eyes. BOTH times. He often wondered if his dislike for the other bronzer, or other bronzers in general, was because of Mastro or himself. Maybe it was on some level because all Bronzes were driven to be the best, to catch the Queens, means they didn’t care for their competition? Or was it just that G’rett wanted to shake them for their egos? He didn’t know. But it was a very, very strong urge, he wasn’t gonna lie. And the competition thing wouldn’t account for the want to punch G’drin in the mouth either. Hm… he’d think on it later.

At least the Weyrleader’s answer was honest enough; G’rett took in the man’s words, nodding a little. He liked honest; not real posturing in A'zael’s response, which surprised G’rett just a touch. With all the rumors, well… maybe he add expected the man to act more like a cock in the hen yard then a human being. G’rett leaned back, letting D’nel speak up and managed not to snort; but A'zael’s shot back was worth cracking a smile at. Given the choice, G’rett would trust G'drin at his back before he’d trust D’nel, so the thought of being wing mates with the other bronzer was almost stomach turning.

[avon]

D'nel smirked as G'drin railed at him, sounding like a toddler. He didn't seem to have any decent insults to dredge up, and then A'zael cut him off. He was pleased to see A'zael reprimand the Brown weyrling, but then the Weyrleader turned to yell at him too. The smile faded from his face as he turned his glare from G'drin to A'zael. Sure, now A'zael was showing off his authority? Well, pardon him for saying what they had all been thinking.

He didn't say any of this, merely gritted his teeth and softened his gaze into a cool, collected stare. "I apologize, Weyrleader." Being paired up with G'drin might not be so bad, because he could really get under the immature weyrling's skin one on one, but that wasn't the point. The Weyrleader's words were total crock to him, trust, he'd never trusted another person further than he could throw them. "I'm sure G'drin and I can learn to work together." He lowered his eyes, attempting to look appropriately chagrined.

I need to take a softer tone with these people, he reminded himself. In the underbelly of a Hold like Bitra, being on your guard and fighting back was valued. Here, he needed to employ charm. We'll crush them, Nadornith snarled in his mind, picking up on his rider's irritation. he wasn't interested in charm at all. Patience, beast.

He glanced over at G'rett, silent but smiling a little. Ugh. His feelings about his fellow Bronzerider were quickly turning from indifference to dislike.

[Zen]

Weyrleader A'zael

Well this was off to a fine start. A'zael stifled a sigh. D'nel had apologized, however, so hopefully they could all move on and he could start feeling like he was teaching future leaders of the Weyr rather than wrangling weyrbrats. Inwardly, he didn't particularly blame D'nel. He barely knew G'drin and he was already more than aware of how grating the boy could be. He imagined being in a weyrling class with him would be incredibly obnoxious. But he wasn't about to sit there and let them go back and forth insulting each other either. Regardless... perhaps he should make himself a note later that the two of them should end up in different wings upon graduation, just to be safe. He certainly didn't need any of this behavior carrying over into Threadfall.

“Good, glad to hear it,” he replied shortly to D'nel's suggestion that he and G'drin could in fact work together, eager to move on from the issue, “We're going to start today off with an introduction to the political climate Mavros faces-”

“You mean how the rest of Pern hates us?” G'drin had apparently already recovered from the previous threat of consequence.

It wasn't like A'zael could really refute the statement. However. “Well, since you're so very knowledgeable about it already, G'drin, you're free to leave.” He motioned toward the door, looking expectantly at the boy. He had a limited time frame to spend with these five, and he wasn't about to waste half of it yelling at G'drin after every other thing he said. G'drin hesitated, unsure if A'zael was serious or not, or if he had a choice in the matter. He glanced around at his classmates as if one of them might have the answer, but A'zael gave it to him, “That wasn't a suggestion or a request. Get out. You're welcome to return next lesson if you can reign in your tongue long enough to learn anything.” Yes, a wonderful start indeed.

With that same petulant look, the boy pushed back from his chair and strode out, muttering under his breath, too low for anyone to really catch what he was saying, not that A'zael cared. Hopefully there wouldn't be anymore interruption. He cleared his throat and continued, “Fortunately for us, it isn't quite as simple as G'drin put it, though I won't say he wasn't mostly correct. For the most part, those on the Northern Continent, Weyr or Hold, do not have favorable opinions of us. But things are a bit more complex when it comes to the Southern Continent. While the North was preparing for Thread and the start of the Pass, many of the Southern Weyrs were more lax, and when Thread came they were caught almost completely offguard. Mavros was founded by Oria and her followers from Tidewalk, who were trying to do right and prepare for Thread properly, in opposition to their weyrleaders.”

He paused for a moment, “This is a point in our favor with the Southern Holds, many of which have suffered a great deal after the first Fall of the Pass, with their Weyrs unready to protect them properly. This means Searching the Southern Continent goes more favorably for us, as the holdfolk there know what Oria was trying to do, which is more than they can say about their beholden Weyrs. Even if Thread still caught the first settlers by surprise... at least our name, Mavros, has connotations of trying to do the right thing, and there are holders that appreciate that in the wake of what happened. Tidewalk Hold has actually been quietly supportive of us as they were hit rather hard by Tidewalk Weyr's ineffectual leadership at the onset of the Pass. Now....” Here he paused again with a cold smile, “The Southern Weyrs, on the other hand, with the exception of Mirran, are less than pleased with us. We Search from their protectorates, taking candidates that, honestly, rightfully belong to them. But many of the holdfolk cling to a disdain for their beholden Weyrs and actually prefer to come to us instead. So... the Southern Weyrs have taken to calling us thieves, and that's only what they call us in polite company.”

He figured he ought to stop for a moment, let the information sink in. Those in the North tended to range from apathy to dislike of Mavros, while in the South there was a far greater variety of emotions involved when the Weyrhold was mentioned. He looked around at the remaining four. B'zor honestly looked completely lost, but at least seemed to be trying to follow? T'yer, though he had been reluctant at first, seemed committed at this point, so that was good. B'rax had hopes for the boy, after all. “Questions thus far? Clarification that needs to be made?” he glanced at the two bronze weyrlings. He was new to this teaching thing, and certainly new to teaching politics, he wasn't sure if he was going at a decent pace or not, or how his explanations were coming off.

Alyx avon

[Alyx]

G'rett - Bronze Mastromideth

He wasn’t sure he really believed D’nel’s apology or not, but it didn’t really matter to him. He really just wanted the lesson to move on, so they could all stop dwelling on the Weyrleader’s bedding habits. But at least, for the most part, D’nel let it go. G'drin… not so much. Almost as soon as the waters had calmed, the Brownrider was opening his mouth again, without thinking, and G’rett closed his eyes and shook his head. Why, why, why? Did he think he was actually being funny or something? G’rett didn’t find him funny at this point.

And, it seemed, neither did A’zael. He did give the Weyrleader credit for holding his temper till now. G’drin didn’t seem to understand that there was a time and a place for everything, and this was neither for his rather droll sense of humor and jesting. When he finally realized he’d overstepped, it was too late. G’rett watched the Brownrider shove to his feet and make for the door. He only watched him go for a second or two, then looked back at A’zael.

Listening to A’zael spin out a bit of history, G’rett had to think that G’drin’s comment of the rest of Pern hating them might have been… well, putting it nicely. In fact, the more A’zael spit out, the more G’rett felt that he had to have the worse job in the weyr. And then, add on top of all that, the personal reputation of the man. Oh boy. G’rett frowned, shifting from leaning back in his chair to leaving forward, his elbows on his knees as he gave the man most of his attention.

When he asked if there were Questions, G’rett thought he could think of a dozen or more. If the holds didn’t like their Weyrs, why the hell did they still tithe to them? Why not Tithe to Mavros? Could they really get in trouble for pulling candidates from other Weyr’s beholden Holds? Ugh… He frowned a little deeper, then sighed. “Why weren’t the other Weyrs ready?” He looked around the room at his classmates, then back at A’zael. “I mean – it’s what Weyrs do, right? Fight thread? How could they just… NOT be ready?”

[Zen]

Weyrleader A'zael

“Why weren’t the other Weyrs ready?”

It was a question A'zael had asked too. He imagined it was a question everyone affected by the Weyrs' failures had asked as well. As G'rett said, it was their purpose, the reason they existed, how could they fail so utterly? The answer was... one that filled him with contempt for the leadership of the southern Weyrs, and it seeped into his voice as he replied, “They refused to recognize the warning signs.” That was the simple answer, but as with most things, there was more to it than that, “Intervals have always been fairly regular. 200 turns, usually. We have had two Long Intervals lasting 400 turns as well. But besides those, the Red Star has been fairly reliable. Two Long Intervals... but we've never had a short Interval.”

He frowned slightly, “This is why being able to recognize the signs that come with the beginning of the Pass are so important. We're obviously past that now, but its knowledge we have to make sure survives through the Pass, and more importantly through the next Interval, so this doesn't have to happen again. Relying only on the Red Star's past pattern of orbit... The Pass started two turns early. The northern Weyrs prepared when the first signs came. The Star Stones, black ash. Many of the southern Weyrs refused to believe the Interval was at it's end, or, at least, their leaders did.” He couldn't exactly blame the entire Weyr... when the Weyr failed, it was the Weyrleader that was responsible for not rallying his riders, not preparing a flight plan, not readying the Wings, not rising to meet Fall.

“They were in denial. I don't know if they had simply grown too complacent during the Interval, if they were too afraid to face reality, but whatever the reason, it cost them and their Holds dearly. And it was the reason Oria and her followers left to settle Mavros. They couldn't stomach the failure of leadership. They knew and accepted what was about to happen, and, I imagine, were hoping to stem some of the damage.” They just hadn't expected it to happen quite as soon as it had. He was glad he hadn't been one of the original settlers. Talaria and R'zon had been. He'd learned from the brownrider that the woman had watched their mother being devoured by Thread. How helpless they all were... and how many dragons had been lost, crippling the fledgling Weyrhold before it had even really been formed. And they were still dealing with the consequences of that first Fall. How many more dragons they might have if everyone had just been more prepared... if the southern Weyrs hadn't turned a blind eye. It completely disgusted him, just thinking about it.

He shifted the conversation slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he explained just why he blamed the leadership when any number of riders could have stood up and tried to do something in spite of them, “The Weyrleader's job, first and foremost, is to prepare the strategy for fighting each Fall, and each Fall can be drastically different. The same strategy won't work every time. You go out beforehand with your wingleaders, you assess the wind and weather over the area of Fall, at various levels of altitude, you make your best guesses based on this as to what formations should be used to most efficiently combat Thread, and you prepare beforehand to make last minute changes to the plan based on the pattern of Threadfall, because you won't know how it's going to fall until it starts, and how Thread is falling greatly affects your strategy. If the Weyrleader isn't ready for Fall, the Weyr isn't ready for Fall.”

He knew the planning that went into it, and he knew that it wasn't something a few riders could just try to cobble together last minute. It wasn't even something blueriders and greenriders learned to do, it wasn't something goldriders learned to do. It was passed down solely to those riders who may one day lead the Weyr in Fall and have to make these decisions, and not all of them exactly excelled at it. That left only a handful in every Weyr with the knowledge and the ability to make such plans if the Weyrleader failed to do so. And even if one of those few wanted to go against their Weyrleader on the matter, getting the rest of the Weyr to go along with those plans was another matter entirely.

They'd gotten a bit away from the original topic, but A'zael didn't mind at all. What did politics matter if as the Weyrleader you allowed Pern to be devoured by Thread? The best thing a Weyrleader could do politically was, oh, I don't know, actually protect your Holds. He'd be content to let the Weyrwoman and her juniors deal with the rest of that nonsense. Let him face Thread over some stuffy Lord any day.

[avon]

D'nel's lips twitched upwards in the semblance of a smile as G'drin stormed out of the room. He was like an insolent toddler. At least A'zael had finally stood his ground. Even if G'drin had made a perfectly true comment this time. A'zael was right, it was more complex, but Mavros wasn't very popular at the moment. That was all right, D'nel was used to running with the bad boys.

If they think that, why not own it? he wondered to himself. Mavros had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. As the one Weyr that had followed the warnings and readied itself for Thread, they should have all the power now. But that hadn't happened. Maybe something was necessary...thievery? No, just some aggressive reclaiming of the resources they deserved.

Of course, he didn't voice this, not wanting to be kicked out of class like G'drin. G'rett asked an interesting question, one D'nel had been wondering himself. Denial sounded about right. Those in power rarely wanted to acknowledge the winds of change.

The Threadfall stuff sounded boring, and something better left to more experienced wingriders. D'nel would rather be doing the politics, but he could see that wasn't A'zael's feelings, or the current way the leadership worked. "Pardon me saying so but It seems..." stupid "...Unwise to put that much power in the hands of one person. What if the Weyrleader isn't ready? Should the Weyr rise up, like Oria did? Why even say that the leader is whoever flies the senior Gold? It seems like it would be better to choose someone who already knows what they're doing." It just didn't make sense, and seemed like it wouldn't work anywhere but the Weyr.

[Zen]

Weyrleader A'zael

D'nel's question was... a deal harder to answer. A'zael scratched the back of his neck uncertainly for a moment as he mulled over just what to say to that. It wasn't like he had made the rules on this matter, but he did at least have some basic understanding of why the Weyr's tradition of just how its leaders were chosen had been established. Right or wrong, it was how things were, and he didn't imagine any attempt to change it going over too well. As he had learned quite well so far, people tended to be hidebound, and tradition often trumped logic.

“I don't disagree with you,” he said at last, “From my understanding... the tradition began as a way to prevent infighting and corruption in the Weyr. When you leave the choosing to the dragons, there isn't any dispute over leadership and it takes away any time or complication in figuring out just how to decide who should hold the position. Would you have riders petition the Weyr, that they are right to lead? Hold a vote, as the holders do for our Holder Elect? And if the new leader proved not to be what everyone had hoped, how would you propose removing them? With simple term limits? Another vote? During an Interval I wouldn't be opposed to the voting, but when Thread is falling, we don't have time to worry about all that entails, and we don't need to escalate any animosity between riders vying for the position when those same riders need to have each others' backs during Fall.”

He crossed his arms over his chest once more. As with anything else, there wasn't really an easy solution, a simple answer. “As for the rest... well... luckily the time for anyone to turn a blind eye to reality is long past. All it takes is one Fall to prove the truth. I imagine any leader that wanted to continue to deny what was right in front him after that would be forced out rather quickly, and as is the case at most Weyrs when the Weyrleader position is vacant, a council of Wingleaders would take over his duties until the senior queen rose again.” Which wasn't entirely an ideal situation either. From meetings with his wingleaders and their wingseconds, he knew that coming to agreements on certain matters was a trying task. As Weyrleader he was the final word and in the end none of them had to like what he decided, but if it were a council of wingleaders all of equal rank? He could imagine how messy that could get. Bronzeriders were in general known for their pride, after all. And normal Weyrs had more than three wingleaders.

However, he was curious just what D'nel, or any them actually, would propose instead. Critical thinking was part of being a leader as well, after all, so he brought the conversation back around to it, “So, how would you have the Weyr decide its leadership? If you were given the chance to abolish the current tradition, what would you do instead?” His blue-gray gaze flicked with interest over the four other men in the room. B'zor looked completely lost, but T'yer looked thoughtful at least.

[Alyx]

G'rett - Bronze Mastromideth

G’rett had to think that D’nel was at least on the right end of this one. Nothing directly against A’zael or anything like that, but that was a lot of pulling power for just one person to wield. Especially if that person had less then proper goals, that power could go a long way to making things very, very bad. But in a way, at the same time? To try to change the way the leadership was sorted almost seemed like trying to tell a Lord Holder his sons wouldn’t be his heirs anymore – how would you even start with something like that?

As A’zael spoke, some sort of fine line between a counter argument and agreement, G’rett shifted in his seat and ran a hand over his face. This leadership stuff was making his head hurt. Politics and ‘courtly graces’ were never something G’rett had had experience with before coming to Mavros… and Impressing Mastromideth seemed to have dropped him right into the deep end of the lake with no real warnings. He felt the Bronze reach out, the almost apologetic touch, and he smiled, sending back the rush of love. He wouldn’t give up the big Bronze – even to get out of this class.

The Weyrleader did pose an interesting question though. If G’rett could change it, how would he? Or would he? Shifting his feet, he dropped his back against the back of the chair and pondered the question. The spot near his boot tips got very interesting as he dwelled on the question. He was quiet, wondering if one of the others might answer first. After what seemed like a long moment of silence, G’rett looked up from his feet and scanned the Weyrleader’s features.

“I wouldn’t change it.” He said in a solid, confident voice. “If a Weyr is supposed to be ready for Thread, then Leadership changes would need to be quick, and complete. Voting takes too long, and there are too many ways it can be tipped in the scales of the wrong person. If a Bronze is strong, he catches the Senior, and his rider gets the mantle of the Weyrleader until the next rise. Its worked, and people, whether they like it or not, understand it and follow it. It makes the Weyrs run smoother then if we were to try to sort out some messed way of voting for it all.”

“But, that being what it is..” the healer turned Bronzerider kicked the floor lightly with a boot. “I think that maybe the Wingleaders and Wingseconds should have a bit more voice; maybe the Weyleader himself should have a council, in a way – people he trusts, but not those that would pander to him, to help with making sure what needs to get done is done and that stupid dung-ups like what happened before doesn’t happen again.” He gave a soft shrug.“ But that's just how I see it personally.”