The Academy Post #15

 

Notes:  I had a damn eye appointment this morning that lasted almost two hours and left me with dilated pupils.  My near vision is shot to hell, but I’ve got to write!  Forgive me if this part is less coherent than usual, I’m all blurry-brained.

Title: The Academy

Part Fifteen: Ghost Pirates…Maybe

 

***

 

The first sign that something was wrong was when Cody couldn’t get in touch with Miles.  It wasn’t that his calls didn’t get through to Paradise, it was that no one was picking up on the other side.  Cody tried not to let the silence get to him, but it was…strange.  Miles was never out of touch, and at the very least, Claudia should have been picking up.  Cody called three evenings in a row before finally resorting to using his grandfather’s official number instead of the private one.  He’s probably get diverted to autoreply, but it was better than—

“Governor Caractacus’ office, this is Thérèse Tousaint.”

“Thérèse!”  Wow, that was lucky.  Cody hadn’t talked to the former soldier-turned-nanny-turned-attaché in a long time, but her voice was associated with comfort in his brain, and his shoulders relaxed just having her on the other end of the signal.  “It’s Cody, I’ve been trying to get in touch with Miles for the past few days but the calls never went through on his personal comm.”

“There have been some routing problems,” Thérèse acknowledged.  “Miles and Claudia and the girls left Paradise very quickly, and it’s just been safer to have every comm signal routed through his official unit since then.  You still should have gotten forwarded, though, you’re on the list.  I’ll take care of it.”

“Why did Miles and Claudia leave Paradise?” Cody asked with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“It’s nothing dire,” Thérèse promised Cody.  “There have been a series of incidents in the past standard month on the Fringe that have Miles concerned, and last week he decided to take his concerns direct to Parliament, since they’ve been slow to respond.  We’ll be at Federation headquarters in another ten days.”

“What kind of incidents?”

“I’ll let Miles explain, if you really want to know.  He should be free, let me get you to him.”  A moment later the blank display of Cody’s holoscreen was filled with a pair of big, staring grey eyes. 

“Boo!” the image shrieked.

“Aaahhhh!” Cody yelled, throwing his arms up dramatically.  The eyes pulled back to reveal a small, childish face.  Its owner laughed hysterically.

“I scared you!” Yvaine crowed.  “I scared you, I scared you!”

“Oh my gosh,” Cody breathed, setting a hand over his heart.  This was the third time Yvaine had answered the comm like this, and he knew the drill by now.  “You were so scary.  Whoa.  Ghost in the machine.”

“I’m the best ghost!”

“You’re the scariest of all time,” Cody agreed.  Ten had crept into the room and watched the exchange with a raised blue eyebrow, but Cody ignore hir for the moment.  “So scary.  Does your daddy know how scary you are?”

“Her mommy does,” Claudia said exasperatedly, pulling her daughter back from the projector a bit.  “Hi, Cody!  I’m so sorry we didn’t get your calls earlier, Thérèse is doing her best to figure out why the signal isn’t being forwarded.”

“It’s okay, it isn’t desperate or anything.  I just had a question for Miles.”

“He’ll be in in just a minute, he’s saying goodnight to Renee.  And you,” Claudia looked at her youngest daughter, “should be in bed too!”

“I had to be a ghost first, Mommy,” Yvaine said with all the self-assurance of a five-year-old.  “It’s impotent!”

“Important,” Claudia corrected.  “And you can be a ghost tomorrow.  Right now you’re a little girl, and little girls have bedtimes.”

“Nooooo!”

“Yeeeees,” Claudia replied, standing up.  “Miles will be right in, Cody.  How’s school?”

“Fine.  It’s good,” he said.  Claudia smiled.

“I’m glad to hear it.  Oh, here he comes.  We can chat later, okay?”

“Okay.”  Claudia and Yvaine disappeared from the sitting room—there was a Federation logo on the wall behind the couch, so it had to be Miles’ official ship.  He didn’t use that unless he had to, it was way slower than his personal ship after Wyl had made some custom modifications to the engines.  Something was going on.

When Miles sat down a few seconds later, Cody was taken aback at first.  The grooves next to his grandfather’s mouth were deeper than he was used to seeing, and he seemed somber.  He smiled when he looked up, though.  “Cody!  I’m sorry we weren’t able to pick up your transmissions, hopefully that’s being fixed right now.”

“It’s okay,” Cody said.  “I’m not used to calling your official line or I would have done it sooner.”

“Not your fault.  What did you want to talk about?”

“First, why did you guys leave Paradise?” Cody countered.  “Thérèse said there was an incident.”

Miles sighed.  “There was, but it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with right now, son.  You’ve got plenty to deal with at the Academy.”

“I’d really like to know, though,” Cody said earnestly, letting his eyes widen just slightly.  Ten snickered from the corner, and Cody hoped his roommate kept quiet and didn’t give the game away.  Cody loved his family, but he wasn’t above using his supposed “cuteness” to help get the truth out of them.  That was something he’d definitely learned from Garrett.

Miles snorted.  “Seen it a hundred times, son.”  Damn it, right.  Garrett had honed his skills on Miles, no wonder it didn’t work on the man anymore.  “But I guess it doesn’t hurt for you to know.  There’ve been five different attacks on Federation-aligned Fringe planets in the past month.  They’re being called acts of piracy, possibly from unaffiliated Drifters.”

Cody knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t help it.  “Which planets?”

“The Spectrum cluster, plenty far from Pandora,” Miles soothed.  “There’s been a fairly substantial loss of life, though.”

“From pirates?”  Cody wasn’t an expert on interstellar piracy, but this just didn’t seem right.  “But pirates don’t…I mean, don’t they generally go after ships in transit?  Or a star base, if they’re a really big group, but on the actual planet surface?  That just seems strange.”

“Especially strange since they attacked the capitals, using modern weapons, and got away before they could be properly identified,” Miles agreed with a grimace.  “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Drifters don’t have access to the kind of weaponry that’s responsible for these attacks, not the way trade laws stand.  Even on the black market, modern plasma projectile technology is rare and very expensive.”

“So you don’t think they were pirates?”

“I don’t think they were Drifters,” Miles corrected.  “Whether or not they’re pirate attacks, well…the official word is that they have to be, because all of these planets are inhabited by small colonies with peaceful governments.  This isn’t a case of civil war, like what happened on Paradise a decade ago.  This is something else.  Piracy, maybe, but apart from destruction of property and loss of life, the ‘pirates’ didn’t really gain anything.  They didn’t take any ships, they didn’t take any slaves, and they apparently vanished directly after their attacks.  Very atypical behavior.”

“What is the Federation going to do about it?”

Miles laughed, but it wasn’t a nice laugh.  “Good question.  So far, they’ve promised to send in the Federation Corps of Engineers to help upgrade the defensive capabilities of these colonies, and to temporarily station troops in orbit in case of another attack, but the actual response has been very slow.  Aid was promised after the first two incidents and three more have happened since, but there isn’t one extra man or woman in orbit yet who can do a damn thing to help.  Which is why I’m going to inquire on this state of affairs in person at Parliament.  Jezria’s on her way as well.”

“Oh.”  The drawn expression on Miles’ face, the tired circles under his eyes—Cody knew he was leaving out the worst of this report.  People had died, a lot of people, and Miles was worried.  If he felt so strongly about this that he left the beautiful home he and Claudia had made on Paradise, just so he could get face-to-face with his old comrades, well…Cody swallowed past the lump in his throat.  “Be careful.”

Miles smiled.  “I’m not in any danger, Cody, don’t worry about me.  What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“FB-458-D9.”  When Miles’ brow furrowed, Cody continued, “It’s a bill that was just recently passed in Parliament, and it allows ports to deny access to any ships without Federation and home-planet registration.  It’s supposed to cut back on smuggling, apparently.”

“I had heard about that.  Anti-smuggling my ass,” Miles said.  “As if smugglers always use official ports.  It’s anti-Drifter legislation.”

“That’s what I thought!  How did it even get passed?”

“There’s…”  Miles ran a hand over his face as he considered what to say next.  “Humanity as a species isn’t very good at inclusion.  There was a period in our history, when we hadn’t gone any further than our own solar system, when scientific curiosity overruled most of our most toxic differences, and as a species we were mostly peaceful.  That’s when the Dorn and the Mazzi made contact with us. 

“Once we got warp technology and started to branch out, things changed.  There was no more common tie to Earth, groups began to newly differentiate themselves based on whatever traits they perceived to be the most important at the time.  Planet of origin, religion, philosophy, skin color…honestly, the only thing that held us together for centuries was the fact that we were pretty bad at terraforming planets, and the home system had the resources that outer colonies needed to stay alive.  Eventually the Federation was formed, things were formalized, and it’s been a fairly good system for keeping in touch ever since.

“There are still plenty of people who are more concerned with our differences than our similarities, though.  There are zealots on both sides: those who want to completely break away from the Federation, and those in the Federation who want to exclude anyone who doesn’t fit a certain set of norms.  Some of those voices have become a lot louder in recent years, and that bill is an example of their handiwork.”

“What does that mean for a place like Pandora?” Cody asked.

“Probably nothing,” Miles said calmly.  “Pandora is a model colony, very happily part of the Federation.  For Drifters, though, times are going to get worse before they get better, I’m afraid.  I’ll be bringing that bill, among others, up when I have my day in Parliament, count on it.  I’m not the governor of Paradise anymore but I do have a certain authority still, and Paradise is an important way station for Drifters in the Fringe.  Closing Rapture to their ships would be destructive, to say the least.”

“Yeah.”  Cody thought of Jack, who tried to be good to him even though he couldn’t be a father.  “I…so there’s a group of us doing a special club on multiculturalism, and I was hoping you’d speak to us this weekend?  Two days from now,” Cody clarified.  “About the bill, about anything you want, really.  It’s Grennson’s club, he’d love to hear from you.  I understand if you’re too busy, though.”

“We’ll still be en route then, I’ll make the time for it,” Miles promised him.  “Send me the specific time, Thérèse will make sure it’s on my schedule.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, son.  You talk to your dads lately?”

“A few days ago.”  Cody rolled his eyes. “They’re doing something involving hot springs, I didn’t want to know any more.”

“I sent them a message about meeting up in the Central System.  I’d like Garrett’s perspective when I get down to dealing with Parliament, and I don’t think Jonah’s ever been to Federation headquarters, so if I’m lucky they’ll come join me in a week or two.”  Miles smiles.  “If you’re lucky, they’ll stop by and visit you on their way in.”

“That would be great!”  Just the thought of seeing them in person made Cody grin.  “I hope they do.”

“Me too.”  A chime dinged on Miles’ side, and he sighed.  “I’ve got to go, son.  We’ll talk in a few days, all right?”

“All right.  I love you.  Tell Claudia and the girls too.”

“Love you, too.”  The signal closed and Cody sat back, his brain spinning with new thoughts.

“That was your grandfather?” Ten asked, sitting down next to Cody on his bed.

“Yeah.”

“He seems to not be an idiot.”

Cody chuckled.  “He’s really smart.  He was a marine general, then a governor.  Now I think he’s semi-retired, but he still does a lot of work for the Federation on outreach and stuff like that.”

“Do you think he’s right to be worried about the ‘pirates’?”

“I think…”  Cody paused, then said, “I think if he’s worried, it’s a bad sign.”

 

The Academy Post #14

 

Notes:  Ah yes, plot!  Muhuahahaha!!! *rubs hands together gleefully*  There will still be plenty of time for development, but we’re picking up a little speed now.  All sorts of bits and pieces are going to start to come into play, and hopefully I’ll stitch them together into a cohesive tapestry.  However it falls out though, we’re going to have funJ

Title: The Academy

Part Fourteen:  Bill Me Later

 

***

 

 

The first meeting of Grennson’s club went about as Cody thought it would: there were basic introductions, a general feeling out of who would get along and who would make trouble (Ten, Ten, and Ten again, with a side helping of Xenia) and a tentative schedule for who would talk about what in the coming weeks.  Once everyone was gone Grennson took Cody aside and apologized for bringing a psychic into their quad.

“I thought she would be interesting,” he said, his quills flattening down like they did when he was feeling abashed.  “I forgot about everything else.  I don’t think she’ll be a problem, but if you aren’t comfortable having Pamela in your presence, I’ll ask her not to attend next time.”

“I appreciate that,” Cody said, “but I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Because you’re a study in naiveté,” Ten called out from their room.

“Because she said she wouldn’t,” Cody continued loudly, “and you trust her.  Plus, this gives me a reason to work on that mind-shielding thing.  It’s something I’ve got to learn anyway, so I might as well get started now.”

“Why do you have to learn it?” Darrell asked.

Cody shrugged.  “Part of covert ops.  I have to be able to hide what’s really going on under duress.”

“Did it never occur to anyone that you are possibly the worst choice for hiding things ever?  Because you are,” Ten proclaimed.  “You’re naturally honest, whenever you tell a lie it looks like you’re coming down with a fever.”

“Which is why I have to learn to get over that,” Cody said, then turned back to Grennson.  “Any help you can give me would be great, but I think I’m going to ask Kyle for help too.  He’s apparently really good at shielding his thoughts.”

“Because he was taught to lie straight out of the womb.”

“Ten, for fuck’s sake,” Cody sighed.  “Can you give him a break?”

“It’s not like I’m saying these things to the little princeling himself!”

“I thought the Federation was a democracy, not a monarchy,” Grennson said, his quills perking up a bit.

“Technically it is a democracy, although there are nations and sometimes entire planets that are ruled by monarchies,” Darrel said.  “The groups with the most power tend to last, though.  The Alexanders have been working in the upper echelons of the government for the last dozen generations or so.  They pass control back and forth with a few other people, but it doesn’t really change.”

“We need a revolution,” Ten huffed as ze peered at the gene sequence ze was modifying.  “The Federation is stale and repressive.”

“How is it repressive?” Grennson asked.

“How is it…look around you!” Ten said.  “There are a limited number of archetypes than someone who wants to go places has to fit into.  The Federation is supposed to be accepting of all races, creeds, orientations, physiognomies and species, but it isn’t!  If you fall into a category that doesn’t have adequate representation in the Central System, you can kiss your support goodbye.  Look at Cody and the rest of the naturals.”

“Pandora was built to be a safe haven for us, not an exile,” Cody argued.

Ten rolled hir eyes.  “And there’s the naiveté.  If the Federation really wanted to do something for naturals, they would work to integrate them into normal society, not dangle a prize in front of your faces that sends you to the Fringe where you won’t be in their faces.  Naturalism is a difficult problem but people have been diagnosed with it ever seen Regen first came into mass use, and there is no reason that it should still be unsolved, except for the fact that there hasn’t been the push for it.  Not enough representation, not enough special interest, not enough money.  So they give you a backwater planet and tell you it’s the safest place for you instead, and then you’re out of sight and out of thought.  Problem solved.”

“Ten is right,” Darrel said, surprising everyone.  “I mean…not about everything, but about this?  Yeah.  The Legacy system is a symptom of it.  You only get to be a Legacy if you come from the right kind of family.  When my father’s station was destroyed, there were plenty of civilian researchers and workers on it in addition to the military personnel.  The survivors with Federation-approved educations got tax breaks and grants to move them back to the Central System, while the people whose parents were miners or shippers were given a one-time reparations payment.  I became a Legacy, but a lot of the kids I would have gone to school with didn’t get anything.”

“The Federation isn’t a democracy, it’s an oligarchy,” Ten added.  “It always has been and it always will be.  Think about it,” ze said as Cody opened his mouth to object.  “Really think about it and then tell me differently.”

The thought bothered Cody.  He’d been raised on a planet where the catchword was equality, despite one’s Regen status.  On Paradise, he’d been treated the same.  The idea that his treatment was the result of his grandfather’s influence instead of his own merit was…unsettling. 

When Cody started thinking about things, he tended to think long and deep rather than make quick judgments.  So he went to classes and he studied and he spent time with his quad mates, and he thought about what Ten and Darrel has said.  And the more he thought, the more it seemed like they were right.  Cody could still see a certain amount of reason with setting naturals apart on Pandora, but how much different could his life have been if he’d grown up in the Central System?

Garrett was another example.  Garrett was the son of a retired general and former governor, he had a doctorate in a valuable field, he was handsome and intelligent and wonderful, but he’d had problems when he was Cody’s age.  Problems that had gotten him locked away, issues that had branded him as unstable for the rest of his life, even after decades and decades on effective chemical stabilizers.  Cody knew that his dads had thought about having other children, not because they didn’t love Cody beyond all reason but because they were still relatively young, they had a good life together and now that Cody was gone, they might have more time than they knew what to do with.  But no reputable fertility clinic would help them procreate, and Cody knew that Jonah would never go back to an unlicensed facility, not after what had happened with Cody.

The event that cemented the growing discontent in Cody’s mind was his Current Politics and Policies lecture mid-week.  The lecturer was a retired colonel and a sociologist, and Cody had enjoyed a lot of his lively lectures, but today he brought up a new policy that made, to Cody, no sense at all.

“One of the newest pieces of progressive legislation to come out of the Federation parliament is a tightening of major port controls on all Federation planets,” Colonel Friehoff said.  “Smuggling is the largest economic problem our government faces, and giving the Federation system the authority to deny access to ships without current Federation and home-planet registration will give local governments another tool to fight the smuggling epidemic.  Now—yes, Cadet Helms?”

“What about ships that don’t have a home-planet registration?” Cody asked.

Colonel Friehoff smiled the smile of tedious repetition.  “Then they won’t get to land at Federation-controlled ports.”

“But that discounts the entire population of Drifters,” Cody said.

“Drifters are a big part of the problem,” Colonel Friehoff replied pointedly.  “As a people, they’re naturally inclined toward larceny in order to make ends meet.”

“Drifters are considered an autonomous people, but they’re still Federation citizens,” Cody argued.  “If they can be prosecuted by the Federation, they should also be protected by the Federation.  That means they get Federation rights.  Denying them access to all legal ports is just going to make their situation more difficult.”

“Drifters have exercised extreme levels of autonomy for nearly a millennium now, any semblance of credibility as to their status in the Federation has long since been eroded by their insistence upon nomadism.”

“You tax them,” Cody insisted.  “You tax them and allow them nominal representation in the government.”

“Which they generally ignore.”

“Maybe because they’re ostracized no matter what they do.  I’d be inclined toward larceny too if I couldn’t get proper medical care or education.”

“That sounds like a personal failing, Cadet Helms,” Colonel Friehoff said dryly, and some of the class laughed.  “Drifters have the option of settling a planet of their own and have chosen not to do so, probably because they don’t have the will for the work that would entail.”

“Or maybe because the only planets they’re being offered are undeveloped Fringe leftovers that are mostly safe havens for pirates nowadays.”

“Plenty of Drifters have connection with the growing piracy problem on the Federation’s borders.”

“And plenty more are victims of piracy,” Cody snapped, remembering Jack’s face the last time he’d talked to his other biological father.  One of Jack’s friends had lost her ship, and over a hundred members of her family, to a pirate attack.  It was happening more and more often, but weaponry was such a heavily regulated commodity that it was almost impossible for Drifter ships to get modern upgrades.

“Integration has always been the goal with regards to those members of Federation society who insist on living outside the normal lifestyle,” Colonel Friehoff said firmly.  “Perhaps the danger of Drifter living will convince them that it’s time to become productive members of society instead of social pariahs.”

“But they’re socially isolated in large part because of—”

“Cadet Helms, clearly you feel strongly about this issue.  I suggest you turn it into a research paper for the end of the term.  Now, however, we need to move on.”  Colonel Friehoff started talking about Regen tariffs and left Cody silent and fuming in his chair.

Instead of meeting with Phil that evening, he begged off and went to the paraball field after class.  As he sat down in the stands he caught Darrel’s eye, and waved him over.

“Hey,” Darrel said, absently twirling his stick as he ran over.  “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, but could you let Kyle know I’d like to speak to him sometime tonight?  Whenever he’s got time,” Cody amended.  “I don’t want to interrupt your practice.”

“We’re just warming up.  If it’s quick he could probably come over right now.”

“Thanks.”  Darrel ran off and a few minutes later, Kyle jogged over to the stands. 

Cody was slowly getting used to the way everything inside him seemed to wobble when he watched Kyle move.  He was good looking in the same way Garrett was, so handsome you had to look twice just to check that you weren’t hallucinating something, and he ran so smoothly it was like his feet barely touched the ground.  He was smiling when he approached the stands, and Cody swallowed hard.

“Hey,” Kyle said easily, hopping over the divider and coming to sit down.  “I didn’t expect to see you again until Saturday.  Are you looking to set up a time to race?”

“No—although yes, that would be great, really,” Cody babbled, then firmly reeled his tongue in.  “But no, I’ve got a couple questions for you.”

“Fire away.”

“Well, the first one is…I’d like to learn the shielding.  How to hide what I’m thinking?  That.”  So smooth.  Not.

“I see.”  Kyle’s expression became concerned.  “Is there any particular reason you’re worried about that?  Because if it’s because of Pamela or any other psychic, you can take your concerns to the counselors and they can intercede on your behalf.”

“Pamela’s been fine, I’ve only seen her the once,” Cody said.  “I just really want to learn how to do it.”

“Uh-huh.”  Kyle leaned back a little, looking a bit smug.  “You know, you don’t have to manufacture reasons to spend time with me.  I’ll fit you into my schedule no matter what.”

“I’m…”  And here came the blush, like a crimson wave up his body.  “That’s really nice, but I genuinely want to learn how to shield.  It’s a personal issue, nothing bad, but it’s important to me.”

“Okay,” Kyle agreed.  “We can do that.  What’s the other question?”

Cody drew in a deep breath and marshaled his thoughts.  “What do you know about FB-458-D9?  It’s the bill on regulating ports in order to decrease smuggling.”

Kyle frowned slightly.  “Not much.  I don’t actually follow the government’s every move, despite my brother’s position.”

“But do you think you could get a copy of it?” Cody pressed.  “I tried, but apparently you have to be a senior cadet and you have to have a specialty that directly related to government in order to get access to the complete bill, and you’ve got that.”

“I can look it up.  Why are you interested?”

“Because one of my lecturers brought it up in class the other day, and he made it sound like a good thing, but to me it seemed really restrictive and discriminatory.  I want to talk about it at the club next week.”

“Huh.”  Kyle’s frown got deeper.  “I can get a copy, but I won’t have much time to read it.  Those bills tend to be very dense.  Do you mind me offering you a suggestion?”

“No.”

“Ask your grandfather about it,” Kyle encouraged.  “He’s in a position to follow the parliament, and he’d probably be able to explain this way better than I could.  Maybe you could even have him talk about it to the rest of us.”  Kyle smiled brightly.  “I’d love to meet him.”

That was actually a really good idea.  Cody hadn’t talked to Miles in a few weeks, and this would be a great reason to get in touch.  “I’ll do that.  Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”  Kyle stood up.  “I’m swamped this week after classes.  Can we wait until the weekend to start on the shielding?”

“Sure.”

“And save some time for a race, okay?  I’m going to win the next one, I swear.”

“You can try,” Cody teased, and Kyle laughed.  The wobbly feeling increased.

“I’ll send the bill to you as soon as I get it, probably tomorrow.  See you later, Cody.”

“Yeah, bye.”  He watched Kyle jog away and exhaled slowly.  Now as soon as Cody got his heart to stop racing, he’d be all set.

 

300: Rise of an Empire

So, over the weekend my man and I went to see this movie:

Did I like it?  Why yes, yes I did, quite a bit actually.  Those of you who are discerning, elevated film watchers might now be asking yourself, "Why?"

The truth is, this movie is just the kind of camp I love.  It's incredibly violent without, for the most part, degenerating into porny, torturey rape and pillage (note I say for the most part--there's a glaring exception I'll get to in a moment), it has some very good actors who are capable of giving quite stirring versions of their frankly ridiculous speeches, it has a lot of gorgeous nearly naked men--always a win in my book--and most especially it has sea battles.

Yeah, you heard me.  I have a special nerdy love for sea battles.  My favorite time period is the Napoleonic era, but I'll take the Bronze Age in a heartbeat.

Oh, you sexy triremes you.  I don't care that some of the tactics seemed, well, ridiculous--major, major points for doing battle at sea and making it gripping and frightening and beautiful.

What, plot?  Well...there isn't much plot, honestly.  This occurs concurrently with the last 300 movie, and it's mostly "save a united Greece" for the Greeks and "kill all the Greeks" for the Persians.  We get a lot of speeches with a lot of yelling, especially about GLORY!  HONOR!  VENGEANCE!  FREEEEEDOOOOM!!! The most character development is actually given to our villain, the female commander of the Persian navy, Artemisia.  We get to see how she got to her position of power, why she hates the Greeks so much, we understand her motivation and admire her commitment even when we're supposed to be rooting for the other guys.  Her lackeys are, well, lackeys, but Artemisia more than makes up for the lack of depth in the rest of the bad guys.

Artemisia is the character I loved the best, but I took umbrage with a description of her given by one of the film's producers: "Talk about female empowerment!"  Yes, talk about murdering a young girl's family, turning her into a sex slave, raping her unto near death before abandoning her where she's picked up off the street for no apparent reason and turned into a merciless warrior, watch her learn to transform her pain at her own life into merciless hatred and blind ambition, watch her do the same thing to others that was done to her, watch her die at the hands of the only person in the whole damn movie she respected, and then equate that to the way women get empowered?  Yikes.  You broke and remade her for evil, you didn't empower her.

Anyway...yeah.  300: Rise of an Empire, lots of good, gory fun.

Missed Connections Anthology

Well, here's something I haven't done in a while: announced a story's acceptance in an anthology.  This one Missed Connections, courtesy of Less Than Three Press, and will technically be my second acceptance from them, although the first isn't published yet.  Here, have some details!

A fleeting glance across a crowded space. Trains passing by in the night. Second chances that weren’t supposed to happen. Old friends reunited. Sometimes rediscovering a person and having new feelings can be just as intense as an initial spark. Whatever the reason for not seeing them is gone, and these men and women are ready to make up for any time missed. LT3 is seeking stories about capturing a moment that was thought to be lost, about reaching out and grabbing hold before they’re gone forever, and always, always, about finding their happy ending.

***

My particular story is called Evergreen, and is less about a missed connection than about failure to launch.  Literally: my boys are astronauts in the space program of 2067, training for a one-way mission to Mars.  They meet, they fall in love, everything looks good and then--

Well, you'll have to read it to find out:)  I'll post an excerpt here once this bad boy is edited to within an inch of its life.  I'm very excited!  Yay!  Now if only I can bang out my Goodreads story, edits for Camellia and read and review a book for Review The Rainbow over the weekend, my life will be sparkles and magic.

Got my Love's Landscape prompt!

The Goodreads M/M Romance group is doing their annual free reads event, which I love to take part in.  The prompting process was a little fraught this year (I suppose it is every year, but this year, ugh, I was waking up too early just to be denied) but I now have my story prompt and am ready to go forward.

Let me share!

Dear Author,

I’m sending this on behalf of my boss of whom the picture depicted. Been working with him a couple of years as his law firm as his secretary replacing a string of female secretaries in just a few months.

He’s not difficult to work for, my boss is. Honestly. I just think my successors expected too much from him... outside of work. I mean, look at his face! Admittedly, even I have a bit of crush on him. But even I had to face fact that he’s way, waaay out of my reach. Come to think of it, he never had any romantic involvement with anybody during the years I work for him. The only dinner, lunch, or breakfast reservations I had to make for him were either for work meetings or with his folks. Which reminds me I had to make one soon for the later as his folks are coming for a visit the day after tomorrow.

As courteous as he’d been with them, my boss doesn’t really seem close or comfortable with his elder. He gave me short version of his not-so-happy-happy childhood earlier in my days so I stopped yapping at him to buy meaningful gifts for them. As kind and quiet my boss is, he can be quite stern when he rebukes me. I find this quite sexy, but please don’t tell him I say so.

So, dinner reservations for three on next Friday evening... Wait, is that "4" he wrote in my agenda or I need to have my eyes checked. It IS! Does this mean he’d bring a date to meet the rents? How did I miss this? I didn’t see him behaving any differently around the office. People who dates should’ve shown some symptoms, aren’t they. And how come I never know he’s got close with anyone; male or female. I’m with him almost 12 hours a day! Well, at the office, on the phones, etc etc.

I’ve got to find out more about this!!!

Sincerely,

Didi


Yep, I chose a contemporary, light-ish, sweet romance to write this year.  Last year my dark and dangerous story did really well, but oh my god, it was a time sink.  Hopefully this year's will be easier to write (and a little shorter, please brain, a little shorter) but still fun to read.  The finished product is due by May 1st.  I'll give you guys excerpts and, eventually, the whole thing to read if you're not a member of that group.  I recommend joining if you're in the mood for free fiction, though.  This event produces hundreds of amazing stories each year.

The Academy Post #13

Notes:  I keep intending to get to the meat of the plot, and then everyone keeps wanting to socialize and interact.  Damn it, it’s just so easy to write conversation with these people.  Next time, I swear, we’ll start moving things along.  For now, enjoy the fireworks!

Title: The Academy

Part Thirteen:  Low Blow

***

                To say that their club got off to an inauspicious beginning would be a bit like saying, “Drifters make people nervous.”  It was the truth, but it was only one, bland facet of the bigger issue, which was that some people were fundamentally incompatible.  Couple that with unreasonable as well, and you had the start of Grennson’s culture club.

                Actually, no, the very start of it was okay.  Darrel requisitioned a few more chairs and expanded their table to fit eight, Grennson made lhosa tea, Cody cleaned up the kitchen and Ten actually brought someone with hir, which was honestly more than Cody expected.

                “Bartholomew, this is everyone.  Everyone, Bartholomew Applegate.  Yes, he’s a Friend, no Grennson, that’s not what you think it is, yes he’s here to preach about where he comes from but no, he promises not to try and convert you,” Ten said after dragging the husky boy into the quad behind hir.  “Now we’ve got what, ten minutes before this is supposed to start?  Come with me, I want to talk to you about gene bundling.”

                “Ten, you can’t take him away now!” Cody protested.  “We didn’t even get to introduce ourselves.”

                “I introduced you more efficiently, he already knows your names,” Ten said.

                “That doesn’t even count.”

                “How would you know what counts?  You grew up on the Fringe.”

                Bartholomew looked uncomfortable but Cody didn’t even blink at the rudeness.  “Yeah, and my grandfather was the Federation-appointed governor of an entire planet out there, so trust me when I say I’m cultured enough to know when you’re being impolite.  Hi.”  Cody held out his hand.  “I’m Cody Helms.”

                “It’s pleasant to make your acquaintance,” Bartholomew replied. 

                “Oh, good grief.”  Ten rolled hir eyes.  “Hurry up.”

                Grennson and Darrel actually got as far as giving Bartholomew their names in person before Ten managed to whisk him off to the bedroom, where hir computer modeling systems were running at full capacity.  Cody watched them disappear and tried not to feel relieved.  Maybe if he had time to ease everyone into meeting his guest, things would go better.

                Pamela was the next person to show, and she was relentlessly cheerful.  “Good morning!” she said as Grennson brought her in.  “I brought muffins.” 

                “You didn’t have to bring food,” Grennson said fondly, taking the food and setting it on the counter.  Darrel gave him a sharp look but didn’t say anything.

                “I like to bake.  Strong enough smells obscure my telepathic ability; did you know our sense of smells are very strongly correlated to our memories?  When I bake, all I think about is learning to bake with my mother.”

                “You’re a telepath?” Darrel asked, his caramel skin paling slightly.

                “Oh, yes!”  She came over and sat down next to him, and smiled understandingly.  “But it’s very hard to get more than blurry surface thoughts, and I’m doing my best not to read any of you right now.  I don’t want to violate your privacy, trust me.”

                Well, that was…sort of reassuring, but not very.  Cody did his best to think about anything other than himself: the muffins, which smelled delicious, Ten being hirself and just taking someone back into their room without bothering to ask Cody if it was all right, the taste of Grennson’s tea, the sound of the door chime…

                “I’ll get it,” Darrel said before Cody could stop him, and he headed for the door with a little smile on his face.  Apparently he liked who he’d invited along.

                The smile fell away when Darrel found not one, but two people waiting in the hall.  “Hi Dare,” the girl said.  “I saw Kyle on the way over and he told me he was heading here too.  Pretty convenient.”  She paused, then asked, “So can we come in?”

                “Yes,” Darrel said, but he didn’t move.  “Yeah, but…”

                “I invited him,” Cody said, trying desperately to keep from blushing.  Of course, now that he was thinking about it he knew he was turning red, fuck.  Well, at least being embarrassed would keep him from thinking about other things.

                Darrel looked at Cody incredulously.  “You did?”

                “What’s the problem?” the girl asked.  “And could you not just leave us standing in the hall while you talk about us?”

                Grennson moved forward to play host.  “Please come in.”  He offered a human-style handshake to both of them.  “I’m Grennson Kim.  Thank you for your interest in this.”

                “Xenia Mohr,” the girl said.  “Thanks for keeping me out of seminar, I hate it when lecturers get mushy.”

                “You must be studying a harder science.”

                “Yeah.  Micro-quantum.”

                “I know nothing about it, you’ll have to explain it to me when we have a moment,” Grennson said, then turned to Kyle before Xenia could get started. 

                “Thank you for having me.  I’m Kyle Alexander,” he said with a smooth smile.

“Why are my quad mates trepidatious about having you here, Kyle?”

“I assume it’s because Cody didn’t tell you I was coming.”  He glanced at Cody and winked, and Cody felt his stomach do that stupid tightening thing again.  Good thing he was already blushing.

“He’s Valero’s sponsor,” Darrel added, finally emerging from his stupor and shutting the door.  “He’s the captain of the paraball team, too.”

“Oh.  Oh,” Grennson said, understanding suffusing his voice.

“In Cody’s defense, he didn’t know who I was when he asked me to come,” Kyle continued, and okay, that was enough of that.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cody said firmly.  “You didn’t have anything to do with the Valero thing, and you’re a great racer and you come from the most politically-important planet in the entire Federation.  I’m not sorry I invited you.  Thanks for coming.”

 “You have the shiniest mind I’ve ever felt,” Pamela marveled.  “It’s like glass, all I can see in you is a reflection of myself.  But then, I guess you would be like this, since your brother is the President.”

“I was learning to repulse telepathic intrusions by the time I was four,” Kyle replied easily.  “Don’t take it personally, it’s such a reflex at this point that I doubt I could let you in if I tried.”

                Grennson looked intrigued.  “Do you mind if I try?  I’d love to see if your training shields against empaths as well.”

                “Feel free,” Kyle said.  “Is it easier if you’re touching me?”

                “I should be able to get an understanding from here.”  Grennson’s quills fluttered a bit as he focused on Kyle.  A minute later he exhaled noisily.  “Pamela is right.  It’s like a…it’s like looking into a pool of water.  I can sense that there are things below the surface, but all I can see is myself.  How wonderful.”

                “I’m glad you think so,” Kyle said, and Xenia went after a muffin and for a moment Cody dared to hope that this would all turn out okay.

                Then Ten came back in, Bartholomew trailing behind.  “Hey, who brought the—what?”  Ze looked astonished, which quickly morphed into fury.  “What are you doing here?”

                “Ah, answering questions?” Kyle said with a disarming smile.  It didn’t do anything for Ten, whose hands were flexing like ze had claws at the tips, eager to disembowel someone.

                “What idiot invited you?”

                “That would be me,” Cody said with a wince.  Ten didn’t disappoint.

                “Why?  Why would you invite the sponsor of the girl who was verbally abusive to you, who smashed up our quad and used Darrel like a door scanner and broke a table with me?”

                “I’m not proud of what Valero did, and she’s paying for it already,” Kyle said.  Ten rounded on him furiously.

                “You can shut up, I’m not talking to you right now.  Cody, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

                It took Cody a long time to get angry, but when he did it tended to come on fast and hard.  He stood up, walked over to Ten and said, “Get in here,” then headed into their room.

After a moment Ten followed, and just before ze slammed the door shut Cody heard someone say, “Ooh, lover’s quarrel?”

Cody rounded on Ten as soon as the door was shut.  “You need to stop it.”

“Stop what?” Ten demanded.  “Stop trying to protect you from assholes who would as soon spit on you as look at you if they knew the truth?  Stop trying to learn everything I can about you so that I can fix you?  Stop trying to be—”

“Okay, right there, that’s the perfect example,” Cody interrupted.  “You say you’re trying to fix me.  Here’s the thing: I’m not broken.  I’m not like almost everyone else, but that doesn’t make me a, a toy that you have to fix in order to be worth anything.”

“I don’t—”

“I know you don’t see it that way, but that’s what it sounds like, Ten.  And you’ve got to let the thing with Valero go.  Kyle is a nice person—”

“How would you know?  You don’t have any classes with him, he’s a senior cadet!  Where did you even—oh, the track, it had to be the track, that’s the only thing you’ve done apart from class and studying that I haven’t been there for.”  Ten scowled.  “And what, you saw him and decided ‘Oh, this pretty person looks like he’d be a lovely addition to our dumb little club!’  How is one meeting enough to feel comfortable bringing him here?”  Ten’s eyes narrowed.  “Do you want to sleep with him?  Are you two fucking?”

“Would you listen to yourself?” Cody demanded.  “Now you’re just making shit up!  Yes, I met him at the track, where he was the only person around who was available to race, and yes, he was good at it, and yeah, he’s pretty too, but no, I’m not sleeping with him.  The only place I’ve been sleeping is here, which you’d know if you ever bothered to come back from the lab and spend any time in your own quad, which you haven’t for the past week because you’ve got a new fucking puzzle you want to solve.”  Cody held up a hand before Ten could interject. 

“And I’m grateful, okay, I’m really fucking grateful that you want to figure me out because I’d love to be normal like everyone else, I don’t want to die before everyone else in my family, but people have been working on this problem for generations, Ten.  And you’re a genius, you’re brilliant and I know you’ll make progress on whatever you set your mind to, but I’d rather you be my friend first and my savior after.  I miss you.”

Ten looked dumbfounded.  “Shut the fuck up.”

“No, you shut up, I’m being serious.  I slept awfully last night, I’ve got a headache from worrying about this exact thing happening today, Grennson went and brought a telepath here which has me worrying even more, and I really wish you’d give Kyle a chance.  Because when you’re not happy I’m miserable, and you’re making me miserable right now.”

Ten sat down on hir bed.  “This is emotional manipulation,” ze said, but it was quiet, not angry.

“This is truth,” Cody said, sitting down next to hir.  “It’s the same thing sometimes, but right now it’s mostly just truth.  I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry about that.  But I can’t bend over to make everyone happy all the time, Ten.”

“You could probably make Kyle Alexander very happy by bending over,” Ten snapped, but there was no heat in it.  “Almost everyone in this stupid Academy would love to bend over for that man, including most of the instructors.  You know his brother is the president of the entire Federation, don’t you?  Kyle’s even more of a social catch than Grennson.”

“I didn’t know who he was when I asked him to come,” Cody admitted.  “I’m actually kind of surprised he said yes, to be honest.”

“Probably for Grennson’s sake,” Ten said.

“Thanks.”

“Not that you’re not interesting too,” Ten added.  “For your own sake, I mean.  You are, you’re…great.”

“I feel damned with faint praise,” Cody teased, but Ten looked serious.

“No, I mean it.  You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met in my life, and that should make me want to walk all over you, but somehow it doesn’t.  You’re not a sycophant, you’re not a shy little moose, you’re just…you.  I liked you from the moment I met you, and that never happens to me.”

“Thanks.”  They sat in silence for a moment before Cody asked, “What’s a moose?”

“It’s a tiny little Earth animal.”

“Are you talking about a mouse, maybe?”

Ten furrowed hir brow.  “Maybe.  I don’t know, it’s just an old expression.”

“Huh.  I like it both ways.  Now, can we go join everyone else?  And be nice?  Please?”

“Don’t beg, it makes you sound weak,” Ten said, but ze stood up and smoothed down hir coat.  “I’ll go.  I can’t promise to be nice, but I won’t deliberately taunt him, either.”

“That’s all I ask,” Cody said.