Reformation: Chapter Twenty-Five

Notes: New Reformation at last! I'm mostly over my damn cold at this point. Enjoy some Ferran and Jason. Also--comment on my contest post, let me give you a copy of my supervillain audiobook! C'mon, play along with me ;)

Title: Reformation: Chapter Twenty-Five

***

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ferran had long ago become accustomed to human-style parties. He was inevitably surrounded by curiosity seekers, some of them genuine in their interest, many of them looking for nothing more than a photo op or a chance to feel superior—or worse, feel entitled. Socializing was part of his work as an ambassador, and he bore it gracefully. Positioning himself as the center of attention allowed his husband to escape some of the more rigorous social niceties at these things, and Jason always made it up to him later.

Right now, Ferran was answering the same question for the fifth time tonight and making a mental list of the many, many things Jason would be owing him later tonight. “Yes, my quills do respond to my mood, and no, I would prefer that you not touch them, thank you.”

The woman facing him looked nonplussed, her bright golden hair floating around her head like thousands of tiny tentacles. “I thought that Perels liked touch! Your species has a reputation for being rather…open to that sort of thing.”

“Our youth certainly can be,” he replied calmly. “Especially when they’re on their post-adolescent tours, but I am part of an established relationship and save such liberties for my husband.”

If anything, the feel of her interest increased. Ferran resisted the urge to roll his eyes, a purely human reaction that he’d picked up over the years. “Well, I’d be more than happy to include your husband in any touching that happened between you and me.” She winked. “Shall we go and find him?”

Jason, come and rescue me before I’m forced to be rude.

On my way. His mental voice seemed—worried.

Is everything all right?

We have to leave. I’ll explain when we’re alone.

If both of them had been Perel, Ferran could simply have looked a little deeper into his husband’s psyche and divined whatever it was that had him so concerned. A psychic and empathic connection between spouses was the standard for their people, but no one had thought that Ferran and Jason would manage to develop the same thing. He was human, after all, and they weren’t notorious for their psychic abilities. They’d managed to build a strong connection anyway, but it wasn’t a typical one and didn’t behave that way.

Jason walked up behind him a moment later. The woman brightened. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear! Commander Kim, my name is—”

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Jason said, taking Ferran’s hand. “Something has come up that requires our immediate attention.” He turned away. Ferran went along gratefully, even though his own worry was growing.

“Enjoy the party,” he called over his shoulder before they were out of the ballroom. They walked in silence to the docking bay, but their minds were active with each other.

What is it?

A distress call. Our ship is the closest to handling it.

Ferran frowned. From whom?

Claudia Caractacus and her daughters.

Ferran was stunned. He remembered—vaguely—a plan that Garrett Caractacus had worked out, the equivalent of a mutual defense pact, between members of his family, the children, and those close to them. Ferran knew that he and Jason were on the list, but he’d never imagined they’d actually be called to act on it. Where are they?

Phracian Colony, above Kyres. The distress call has been going for the past five minutes. I conferred with Garrett and we can be there in under half an hour if we burn enough fuel.

Ferran tried to remember the details of the emergency protocol that had been set in place. They’ve abandoned their residence, then.

Their residence was destroyed. Local law enforcement found three bodies in the wreckage, none of them Claudia or the girls, but their bodyguard was there.

Ferran felt sick. And the other two?

Unidentifiable.

No one is unidentifiable in your modern society.

Jason’s forehead furrowed. These two were. It’s a dark op, pure and simple. They’ve undoubtedly got more people looking for the escape pod. We have to move fast.

They made it to their ship, got permission to leave and were in the air in record time, leaving behind the thronging party moon they’d been booked at and heading for the tiny Central System planet of Kyres.

“If there are people looking for the pod,” Ferran said, checking that their nav system was appropriately keyed in to the distress signal, “then they will certainly be on their guard against interference.”

“That’s true.”

“We won’t be able to get them without a fight.”

Jason leaned over and kissed Ferran’s temple. The strength of their emotional connection surged with touch, and Ferran felt himself calm as his husband’s equanimity swept over him.

Then he saw what his husband planned to do, and his calm vanished.

“That is a bad plan!”

“They won’t expect it.” Jason kissed him again, then went back to pulling on the thin suit that would provide a barrier between his body and the atmospheric suit that he’d layer over it.

“Because it isn’t sane.”

“Marines do these sort of ship-to-ship maneuvers all the time.”

“Between friendly ships, not enemy ones,” Ferran reminded him. “And what about the pod?”

“You’ll have to grab that while I’m dealing with them.”

“What if there is more than one of them?”

“Then we’ll handle it.”

Ferran narrowed his enormous amber eyes. “You are never this optimistic. Are you sick?”

“Just determined.” Jason reached out and stroked a hand over the small, soft quills at the edge of Ferran’s neck. “Imagine if it was Grennson. Wouldn’t we want someone to do everything they could to take care of him?”

“Of course,” Ferran whispered.

“And Miles is doing that, right now. The least we can do is look after his family in return.”

When Jason was right, he was right. Ferran turned back to the control. “We’re coming up on the location of the distress signal.”

“Slow us down, get us as close as you can. And when I give the signal, open the top airlock.”

“I will.”

***

The suit had been a gift from Ferran’s mother, part of a matched set. “To keep you safe while you explore the emptiness that is most of space,” she’d said, and whoever she’d commissioned them from, they’d done a fantastic job. It was close-fitting, with all the latest amenities to keep him from feeling the vacuum around him. Jason had thanked her, and then taken it to Wyl and had it modified to include some less-than-legal weaponry. Laser cutters, pulse emitters, a miniature gravitational tractor beam powered by a nuclear battery, even some old-fashioned vibro-blade in his gauntlets—it was stocked. Wyl had been amused.

“What, you’re going to storm another ship the old-fashioned way?”

“If I have to.”

“You do know that’s dangerous, right? I mean, the last person I heard of doing it was a cyborg, and even that’s just hearsay.”

Jason had shrugged. “I like to be prepared.” He would have called it overkill if he wasn’t so naturally inclined toward caution. As it was, he considered his extras adequate. Tonight would test that theory.

He’d been a part of dark ops in his distant military past—not participating directly, but hosting operatives on his vessels and running them from afar. Jason knew that the people going after Claudia and the girls wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than success. Even if the pod was hard to track, they’d stay in the area, trying and trying. Soon they wouldn’t have to try—they could just follow his ship’s trajectory and find them that way. Jason couldn’t let that happen.

We’re close. I’m homing in on the signal.

Good. Jason sent a little surge of pride through their connection to his husband—Ferran had come a long way in his piloting skills. And what about interference?

There’s one other ship in detectable range. It’s starting to close the distance.

Patch the coordinates through to my suit. A moment later a breakdown of their relative positions appeared in his visor. Jason patched his implant in, running the heavy math with his own mind. Three minutes to minimum approachable distance. He could do that. I’m going to use our ship as a launch pad when they get close. Open the airlock.

Jason…be careful.

I will be. A few seconds later, his suit firmed up as vacuum surrounded him. He pushed out of the tiny dorsal airlock, let the implant image overlay his natural vision, and assessed.

They were definitely being followed now. The ship was small but well-armed, rather anomalous for something the size of a trader. Ferran was keeping them on course for the pod, which wasn’t visible to the naked eye yet. A few more hundred yards, and Jason would be within range of deploying toward their tail.

If he was seen, he could be shot. The guns on that ship would turn him into frozen slurry in an instant. So as much as he wanted to take the direct route, he couldn’t. His body should be slight enough to slip under their radar, but he needed to avoid coming at them head-on. Which meant he needed to let their ship get close if he was going to swing around behind it.

Slow down.

If I slow much more, I won’t have time to get the pod aboard before they’re on top of us.

I’ll handle that, but I have to reach them first. He felt the ship’s velocity drop off, and attached a nanotube filament and reel from his back to the airlock. As long as he didn’t sever it accidentally, he should be able to reel himself back in to the ship. Jason took a deep breath, waiting for the perfect moment, and then carefully pushed off their ship.

His suit didn’t have thrusters, exactly, but he could redirect his spare oxygen into exhaust vents to give him some sense of direction. He floated, silently, toward the false trader. Damn, those guns were…big. Really big. Good thing they weren’t motion sensitive—a precaution against overzealous firing, smart for a ship meant to be doing covert work. Jason relaxed a little as he passed under the ship. Now all he had to do was get around to the back of it, locate the closest fuel port and—

Jason! They’re preparing to fire!

What? What?

Over the comm, they just said—they’re going to fire if I don’t transmit them the location of the pod! They can’t see it yet, I almost have it, but—

Don’t reply. Fuck going around the back. He was going to have to get friendly with the guns after all. Just—stall, I’ll take care of it. Jason activated his tractor beam and let it pull him onto the bottom of the ship. He adjusted the strength of it to allow for him to move, then began to crawl back toward the front. He could hear the guns adjusting, going from neutral to firing position and readiness. He moved faster, as quick as he could, using the vibroblades to gouge grips into the bottom of the ship that propelled him faster. He rounded the nose just as the guns began to fire.

Ferran!

We’re not hit! Jason shut his eyes for a split-second in sheer relief. It was a warning shot, but they’re going to fire again in ten seconds. Jason, I can see the pod, but I’m not going to bring them on board if we’re just going to be killed.

You’re not going to be killed. He crouched beneath the right-side gun, leveled his laser cutter up at the belly of it and turned it on high. The laser made enough of a hole that he could jam a pulse emitter into the gap, which began to break the hardened metal apart. The growing whine of an impending shot abruptly cut off.

He moved over to the left gun, doing the same thing. By the time he had the second emitter in place, the first gun had already shaken itself into pieces. Flashing lights on the ship’s hull indicated their state of emergency. Good.

It wasn’t enough to just disarm them, though. He had to disable them. They knew the energy signature of Jason’s ship now, and if they were desperate enough they might try to ram it before they could get up to speed. Jason situated himself right beneath the control cabin and turned his laser cutter on.

Ship shields were designed to combat laser systems. Big ships had big defenses in place, and lasers were considered a primitive means of fighting them. Little ships like this, though, while still shielded, weren’t nearly as tough. A powerful, focused laser with enough time could penetrate a hull, and Jason wasn’t going anywhere yet. It took five minutes, but when he felt the ship shudder beneath his hands, he knew he’d penetrated deep enough. He put his last few emitters into the subsequent hole, then pushed off and away. Let them fly with the hole that was about to erupt from their belly.

I’ve got them! Are you coming?

I’ll be there soon. Jason set his reel to bring him back. He kept his eyes on the ship, watching with cold satisfaction as it began to list. Their fuel storage had been compromised—excellent. The shaking was growing more pronounced—even better.

Where do we go now? To find Garrett? Ferran asked.

No. Nowhere in the Central System would be safe for them now. We go to Perelan.

An explosion in the enemy ship lit the darkness for a moment. A second, larger one followed. The shock wave helped push Jason along a bit faster.

At least we won’t be followed.

New Release: Changing Worlds

Omigosh, guys! Guys! Changing Worlds is out! A new edition with a new cover and a new lease on life, and I'm so freaking excited about it!

Their love will either inspire change in the world or tear it apart.

Former starship captain Jason Kim and his lover, Ferran, are starting a life together on Ferran’s native planet. The Perel matriarchs reluctantly allowed their marriage in the hopes of securing better diplomatic relations with humanity, even though the decision ignites anger from traditionalists. Ferran’s family accepts Jason and the love the two men have found, but other influential families are less accommodating and much less willing to welcome an outsider to their isolated, subterranean world. Some of their enemies are willing to go as far as eliminating Jason permanently. Tensions are quickly building toward a breaking point that might push Perelan into a bloody civil war.

If Jason and Ferran have any hope of surviving the coming conflict, they’ll have to rely on their devotion to each other more than ever before. But that won’t be easy when a figure from Jason’s past reappears to make them question everything.

If you've read it before, thank you, I love you. If you haven't read it before or want to grab it again, let me give you some links!

Dreamspinner Press: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/changing-worlds

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Changing-Worlds-Cari-Z

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/changing-worlds

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-changingworlds

Vignette: Planetary Chess

Notes: Wow, this got plotty. I've got major stuff coming up in the Academy universe, folks. Stuff I didn't even realize was going to happen until it came out of my fingertips. Writing is so weird. Anyway, enjoy some Jason time, with additional Cody and Garrett and Ferran for good measure.

Title: Vignette: Planetary Chess


***

Jason Kim had never wanted children. An only child himself, he’d been perfectly content in his solitude, the companionship of his parents the only break in the quiet that he needed. He’d never had many friends, better at cultivating casual acquaintances than deeper relationships. The military had been a perfect fit for him: a firm hierarchy of command, everyone knowing their role and their duty and proceeding in accordance with it. Jason had made the military his career, and at the time had thought to prolong it indefinitely.

                He hadn’t counted on his capture, a shocking development resulting from a relatively small interplanetary conflict that escalated into actions more brutal than he’d ever imagined. In the slave pens where he and his fellow Federation soldiers were taken, there was no order of rank to protect those with different strengths. There were only the physically supreme slaves ruling over the weak, and the implacable fists of their overseers barely keeping the anarchy at bay.

                Jason existed as a prisoner of war for a little over a standard year. He’d gone from a decorated military officer known for his cool demeanor and tactical expertise to little better than an animal, scrounging for whatever power he could wrest from his wretched peers. It was barely a comfort that he’d never killed or raped anyone weaker than him in that place. His life certainly would have been easier if he had, it would have helped him stake his claim to have followers, but he hadn’t been able to do it.

That restraint, shallow thing that it was, hadn’t kept him from brutally defending himself against anyone who came after him. He’d maintained his status as a loner despite the attacks of his enemies and the entreaties of other slaves who’d wanted to ally with him. He had turned away supplicants and beaten his assailants, sometimes killing them. By the time the war was over and they were rescued, Jason barely recognized himself anymore.

Therapy and some time in the ReGen tanks had evened out his temperament again, but Jason had never forgotten his own sense of helplessness and shame, couldn’t forget it. He’d been directly responsible for killing five people and indirectly responsible for who knew how many more deaths, by not extending his protection to those who asked for it. His counselor had talked him through the path of his grief and guilt, gradually bringing Jason around to the fact that he wasn’t to blame, but some truths weren’t meant to be a relief. There was no assuagement of honor to be had in lacking objective blame.

Going back to the military had ended up an impossibility. Instead Jason found work as a commercial ship captain, calm and mundane, regimented and easy to understand. He’d made some friends, taken a lover and lost him again, and then…he’d met Ferran. And his calm and mundane life had dissolved into smoke, never to be found again.

Jason had never wanted children, but he felt he understood them better now. House Grenn had many cubs and they latched onto his presence, perhaps because of his stillness, perhaps because they knew he genuinely liked them thanks to their latent empathy. They became his family, Grennson especially, and letting his foster son go away to the Federation Academy had been surprisingly wrenching.

“It is time for him to go apart,” Ferran had told him reassuringly. “All young Perel do something of this nature. It is to our benefit. It certainly was to mine,” and here he’d grinned, and his quills had fluttered appealingly. “It is how we met, of course.”

Jason had laughed ruefully. “I know.” He kissed his husband on the lips, touched the skin at the base of Ferran’s neck where he was most sensitive and let their building ardor distract him from the fact that, while Jason did know what was happening was for the best, it didn’t make him feel any better about it.

He’d adapted to the loss, of course, and then…then Grennson came home for a visit. And he brought friends. Very human, excessively challenging friends.

Darrel at least was easy, and thank god for that. He had a handle on the language that made him incredibly popular among younger Perel, and he and Grennson were inseparable, so his integration came more quickly. Darrel loved Perelan, it showed in everything he did, and it loved him right back.

Ten was…well, Jason had known what they were in for with Ten, the kid was Grennson’s quadmate and Jason had been getting reports about them all year from Admiral Liang, so of course he knew about Ten. That Ten was somewhere between “spoiled brat” and “genuine force of nature” hadn’t been as plain until he’d finally met hir. Honestly, who experimented with acid in a closed environment like a small passenger ship? Worse yet, who hacked into Jason’s controls and made the computer lie to its pilot about what was going on? Ze’d been lucky the damage hadn’t been worse. Ten was a handful, and Jason had been more than happy to pass direct guardianship of hir off to the twins. They had similar personalities; if anyone could handle Ten it was them.

And finally there was Cody. Sweet, smart, kind Cody who’d been born with a birth defect that couldn’t be fixed. Who’d come to Perelan expecting to join in the fun and instead been relegated to a vacation spent largely indoors because the planet was just too harsh for him. Who’d ended up finding Jason, thankfully, and Jason felt a little bad about that because it shouldn’t have been Cody’s responsibility to find him. Jason was his temporary guardian, he should have interceded earlier, and he hadn’t.  It had ended all right, but…

He could soothe himself with the knowledge that even curtailed, he was hardly Cody’s only source of entertainment on Perelan. Even setting Ten apart, there was plenty for Cody to do, including, right at this moment, telling his parents all about he’d been up to for the past week. The call had come through while Jason had been going over the main strategies of the Battle of Ideyria with Cody, and he’d made himself scarce while Cody took the call over Jason’s own holoscreen. He was far enough away to hear the tenor of voices but no details. Ferran was in session with his mother, so Jason settled into a chair and read a book on his tab.

He made it through two chapters before Cody called him back into the study.

“Garrett wants to talk to you,” Cody said. “Do you mind if I…”

“By all means, go keep Ten from burning down the den,” Jason said, and Cody grinned wide.

“I’ll do my best!” He took off and Jason settled himself in front of the screen.

Garrett’s sharp face smiled at him. “Captain Kim.”

“Doctor Helms,” Jason replied, seeing the minute crinkle at the corner of Garrett’s eyes that assured him his friend still enjoyed being reminded of his name change. “Cody’s healthy,” he continued, assuming that was what Garrett wanted to discuss. “We’re still careful about going outside, but he’s been plenty busy and seems to enjoy it.”

“I know,” Garrett said. The smile fell off his face. “Actually, I want to talk to you about something other than Cody.”

That didn’t bode well. Jason straightened his back. “What is it?”

“What I’m about to tell you is strictly confidential.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Garrett took a deep, fortifying breath. “Rosalee is gone.”

Rosalee… Oh wait, not a person, a planet. A planet in the Fringe, its pinkish color the result of highly corrosive minerals deposits that were nevertheless extremely valuable in the right industries. Rosalee had a small mining community on one of its poles, the only place that could readily support human life, but beyond that there wasn’t much there. “A pirate attack?”

“Supposedly. But I have evidence that the Federation not only knew that this attack was going to happen, it knew six weeks out and did nothing about it.” Garrett’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Even given that it’s an obvious shell game between the Central System politicians and the representatives from the outer planets, there still should have been some sort of alarm raised. If only for the sake of appearances.”

“If this evidence is private, there’s no reason for them to suspect they’d need to fool anyone,” Jason pointed out.

“That’s just it, it’s not going to stay private. It was never intended to. This is the next step in the culture clash that’s sweeping the Federation, the open acknowledgement that some planets just aren’t worth making an effort for. Some people will be shocked but far too many are just going to go along with it. It’s the mentality of the Central System, Jason. I can’t tell you how many people I work with have simply succumbed to the idea of a caste society, with them at the top.”

Jason frowned. “What can I do?”

“I want you to broach the possibility of Perelan as a sanctuary planet to the Matriarchs.”

Oh…heavens. “That will be a very hard sell,” Jason said carefully. “The Council of Matriarchs is making progressive moves, but there’s progress and then there’s total upheaval.”

“It doesn’t have to be for a lot of people,” Garrett argued. “There were fewer than three thousand settlers on Rosalee. Hell, Pandora has less than a thousand.”

“There have never been more than a dozen humans on Perel at any one time, thousands are still an exponential increase. The Matriarchs won’t go for it, Garrett.”

“You have to convince them to.” Garrett leaned forward, his blue eyes disconcertingly bright. “It’s imperative to the survival of their planet. The Central System is rigidly exclusionary, and while it’s possible the powers that be would just ignore Perelan in their quest to ‘simplify’ the Federation, there’s also every chance they’d swing by and rain destruction down on it from space, to put an end to ‘alien fraternization’ once and for all. You know how bigoted some of these people can be.”

Yes, Jason knew. He and Ferran had been the targets of slights, insults and a few outright attacks in their time as ambassadors. “How would turning Perelan into a sanctuary prevent it from being attacked?” he asked. “If anything, that would seem to invite intervention by the Federation.”

“Not necessarily. It all depends on perception. If the timing is right, Perelan could be viewed as the resolution to the Senate’s problems, not a problem in and of itself. They want to deal with refugees? Let them! And, more importantly, it gives us an excuse to mass ships around the planet that could be used in its defense.”

Jason wondered for a moment what it would be like to play chess against Garrett as he weighed the options. “What kind of timescale are we looking at here?”

“No sooner than one year, no longer than five.”

That was fast. Not, perhaps, completely undoable, but fast. He’d have to speak to Giselle Howards, his foster mother. He’d have to speak to Grenn. Hell, he really had to speak to Ferran, to see if there was some way to accommodate a flood of refugees that wouldn’t also throw the society of Perelan into complete disarray.

“You’re convinced this is going to happen.”

Garrett sighed. “I’m doing everything I can to ensure that it doesn’t, but at this point I’m going to be lucky to break even and prevent outright war. Jonah is preparing to head back to Pandora as we speak, to start getting things mobilized there. We’re calling it precautions against ‘marauders.’ Do you mind if he stops by Perelan on his way? He wanted to visit with Cody before…” Garrett’s voice trailed off, and Jason felt a sharp pang of sympathy for the man. He was going to be separated from his husband for who knew how long, with the prospect of war and death looming over both of them. It had to hurt.

“Of course. He just has to comm me when he’s getting close, I’ll arrange everything.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do, Garrett.”

Garrett nodded briskly. “Well then. I’d better let you get back to your day. Give Cody a hug for me.”

“I will.” They disconnected, and immediately Ferran’s emotions flooded into Jason’s mind. Naturally he’d felt Jason’s confusion; they had a deep empathic link, one that Ferran was far better at controlling. Now that Jason was off the comm, Ferran reached out. Jason felt his /curious-questioning-love. The last was like a warm caress to the side of Jason’s cheek, and he sighed with relief as he slumped a little in his chair.

/Urgency-difficulty, he sent back, then /love, because he did, at moments like these he loved Ferran so much, loved the connection they had and the illogical way it made Jason feel so much better.

/Home. Ferran was leaving the meeting and coming home. They could talk, they could plan together, and he would help Jason work out what needed to be done.

/Gratitude-love, he sent back, then headed for the library.

Surely there had to be an abandoned House den in Beranzen somewhere.

The Academy Post #35

Notes:  Another long one, plus lots of explanation, plus…arg, WHY!!! Why do I do this to myself, I’m such a freaking cockblock, arg arg arg. I swear to god, I’m going to give you an explicit scene before this story completely ends if it kills me. It may come in the form of a special semester break posting for the boys, but it’ll happen. Anyway, enjoy.

Title: The Academy

Part Thirty-Five: Onward and Upward, Never Look Back

***

By the time Nurse Don’t-Fuck-With-Me’s door chime woke them up the next morning, Ten was feeling more sanguine about life in general. It wasn’t that ze had magicked away hir boundless issues with the power of affection and Cody’s copious body heat, but ze hadn’t slept nearly as much as Cody had last night, and had had plenty of time to ruminate. In the hours that ze had spent awake, hir head tucked beneath Cody’s chin, moving gently on the swell of his breaths and soft but definitely present snores, ze had decided that the best way to deal with new trauma was the same way ze’d dealt with old trauma: ignore it unless doing so became completely untenable. That strategy had gotten Ten through the worst disappointments of hir life so far with minimal scarring, so to speak. Ze would get through the rest of them just the same.

Of course, ignoring the trauma didn’t mean that Ten was completely insensible to the things that made hir feel better. Waking up next to Cody was definitely one of those. Not just across the room from him, watching him roll and toss in his sleep, but actually next to him, in the same bed, sharing space, sharing everything. It turned out that Cody was much less mobile when he was sleeping with someone—or maybe that was a side effect of the broken collarbone, but whatever, it was good news as far as Ten was concerned. Cody’s arm across hir shoulders was nice, a pleasant weight rather than a bar holding hir down, and despite the fact that he had morning breath—one of the worst side effects of not being able to use Regen, as far as Ten was concerned—overall he smelled pretty good. Ten wanted to analyze the air molecules, siphon out the things that made up the smell of Cody, classify and codify and see if ze couldn’t isolate what it was that made his scent so—so nice.

“No ‘speriments before breakfast,” Cody muttered, and Ten held back a blush as ze realized ze’d been speaking out loud.

“Don’t try to set an arbitrary timetable to my experiments, you can’t stop science,” Ten replied quickly.

“Mmm…we should get up,” Cody said, then frowned. “Why should we get up? Did she say?”

“Nurse Pain-Before-Pleasure doesn’t believe in explanations,” Ten said, curling a little closer into Cody’s body. If anything, the nurse’s directions made hir more determined to stay even longer in bed. Ze shifted, wondering why hir perch had suddenly become a lot stiffer—oh.

Cody realized what was happening a second after Ten did, and his whole body went rigid, matching his…well. “Um…it just happens in the mornings,” he said sheepishly, his face flushing with heat. He couldn’t beat back blushes the way Ten could.

Ten considered the situation for a moment, then positioned hirself more fully on top of Cody. “You mean it’s not because of me?” ze asked coyly, rubbing hir own hardness down against Cody’s. It had been a long time since Ten had done anything physically pleasurable with anyone, certainly nothing at the Academy other than hir aborted kiss with Cody not so long ago. Ze had tried sex before, all sorts of sex, and ze had decided that apart from using it as a tool to get what ze wanted it wasn’t really hir thing. With Cody, though, Ten found hirself responding to him before ze’d given hirself permission. Hir organs were simple things that responded to simple stimuli, but hir mind…you had to be something interesting to get Ten’s mind involved. And right now all ze could think about was how incredibly good it felt to be touching him like this, to feel like ze had power over Cody not because ze’d planned it that way, but because he wanted hir.

Cody was shy though, he was conservative, there was no way he—

Cody used his good hand to pull Ten down harder even as he rolled his hips up. “It’s definitely because of you now,” he said breathlessly, his brown eyes huge and hungry. “But the nurse is going to be back in here any second, so if we’re going to do something we have to do it fast.”

Oh. Oh, he wanted to… “Okay,” Ten said, almost stammering with how turned on ze suddenly was. “Okay, we can do that, I can absolutely be fast, just—”

The door chime rang. Ten turned hir head and snarled at it. “Go away! Don’t you have some other people to torment with your impossibly bad timing?”

“’Fraid I don’t,” a new voice said, and both of them froze. That wasn’t Nurse All-Business-All-The -Time, that was…

“Oh shit, it’s my dad,” Cody said, covering his flaming face with one hand. “Don’t come in, we’ll be out in a minute!” he called out. “Just…just wait, okay? Please?”

“Well I’m definitely not coming in, bucko. Hustle, though, we’ve got a lot to talk about before you can get back to class.”

“Okay, we’ll be right out.” Cody looked up at Ten with a hunted expression on his face. “Do you think he was using the viewport?”

“I have no idea,” Ten said, both oddly titillated and completely repulsed by the idea of Jonah Helms seeing them in this position.

“I hope not. Shit.” Cody sighed. “I guess we’d better get up and dressed.”

Ten felt something slipping right then, all of the burgeoning more that had been building between them suddenly reduced to a whisper, in danger of vanishing entirely. “Only,” Ten said seriously, making sure ze had Cody’s gaze, “if you promise we can actually do this soon. You’re driving me crazy here, I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you keep throwing yourself at me and then taking yourself away again.”

Cody boggled. “Me…you’re the one who started it!”

“And I’m going to finish it too, if you’ll let me.” Ten fluttered hir eyelashes mock-seductively, and when Cody laughed the tension between them relaxed, but kept the hint of promise instead of letting it fade away.

“Okay, yes. I promise to stop tormenting you with my sexiness and let you have your way with me as soon as humanly possible,” Cody said. “I really, really want to touch you too,” he added, and damn it, now Ten really was blushing, how did Cody do that to hir, it was utterly infuriating.  “You have to get off of me if we’re going to get dressed,” he said a moment later.

“Oh, right.”

It was odd to get ready to face the day while still feeling so strange, somewhere between agitated and effervescent. It was even odder to leave the room a step behind Cody and watch him practically fall into his father’s arms, all awkwardness gone in the wake of the incredible affection they shared. That…that had to be normal, didn’t it, that sort of tenderness between a parent and their child? Ten had always thought that sort of sentiment was nothing but a biological urge that some procreators were able to conquer faster than others, setting their offspring free to fend for themselves, but apparently it persisted for most people. Parents kept on loving their children. It was obvious with Cody, it was clearly there with Grennson, even though he was adopted…even Darrell, who never talked about his parents, was still in touch with them all the time. Was Ten really the aberration here? What had gone wrong with hir situation, ze wondered. Was it that hir parents had simply lacked that instinctual love, or was it that Ten had done something early on to lose it?

“Hey there, Ten,” Cody’s dad said, and then all of a sudden Ten was drawn into a hug of hir own, and oh no, Jonah smelled a lot like Cody, a few more scents—hints of dust and oil, coffee and ozone—and Ten gripped him back hard, stupid, awful tears springing into hir eyes for absolutely no reason at all. Ze didn’t want to let go and Jonah didn’t make hir, just held on for a minute before relaxing a bit and turning them toward another room. “C’mon, we’re runnin’ a little late for the meeting,” he said.

Inside the other room were Darrell and Grennson, Grennson looking decidedly worse for wear but also himself again, and Cody being the mushy ball of fondness that he was, he was over next to them in an instant, hugging and asking questions and so concerned it was enough to make a normal person nauseous from the sweetness. Ten would have gone over hirself, if ze could have pulled away from Jonah. Ze couldn’t quite manage that, though, so they came to hir.

“I’m very pleased your mind is your own again,” Grennson said, leaning in and pressing his cheek against Ten’s in the Perel version of a hug.

“My sentiments exactly,” Ten said. “But look at you, you look utterly ridiculous. How long does it take for those quills to grow back in? Are you going to have to pull the burnt ones and just let them start over from scratch? What exactly are they composed of, did they act as conductors for the neural net or was the effect more like—”

“Oh shut up,” Darrell said, but there was no bite to it. “Clearly you’re feeling better, your mouth is already going at lightspeed.”

“Too fast for your brain to catch up, is that what you’re saying?” Ten snarked comfortably.

“If you could all be seated, we’ll get this conference started,” Admiral Liang said from where he sat at the other end of a small rectangular table. There were six empty chairs around it, and Ten wondered why until a hologram of a Perel suddenly appeared. Ah, Grennson’s parent.

“Good morning,” the Perel said in standard, then purred something at his son that made Grennson smile. They all found a seat, Ten shoehorned between Jonah and Cody in a way that felt very, very nice, and then Admiral Liang began to speak.

“I’m sure you have a lot of ideas about what’s happened to you over the past few days, and why. I probably can’t answer every question, but I can clear a few things up for you.”

Ten rolled hir eyes. “As though we need you to. Obviously we were targeted by a small group of people under the direct command of either President Alexander or one of his close confidants, probably because of Cody and Grennson but mostly Cody because he’s the son of one of the men who’s causing problems for Alexander on Liberty, and Pamela was a spy and assassin who was supposed to take Cody out but got carried away trying to blame things on Kyle while getting the job done because I’m thinking there are some serious issues between Kyle and his brother, probably having to do with their father, and Pamela is lucky she’d dead, because I’d kill her otherwise, and I bet it was Cody’s Politics and Policies professor who was helping her, wasn’t it? Colonel Friehoff? Because he was a biased idiot and also had a background in technology enhancement and probably knew how to help her cover up her tracks. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I? I’m so right.”

Admiral Liang stared at Ten for a long moment before smiling. “Absolutely correct. We’re quite fortunate that you haven’t taken over the universe yet.”

“As if I would, I don’t care about ruling over people, people are idiots,” Ten said, although ze felt a little warmed by the regard. “I care about ruling over science.”

“And you may yet. Yes. Colonel Friehoff was collaborating with Pamela Wu, along with a few other people in our technical division. It’s how we lost sight of her time and again on the security feeds. She was responsible for the attacks on Marcys and Valero—”

“Where is Valero?” Darrell interjected, looking concerned.

“Valero was apparently mind-controlled into damaging your bike, Cody,” Admiral Liang said, and Ten felt Cody shudder a little at the memory. “And afterward, she was directed by Pamela to set herself on fire. Fortunately the mind resists such attempts to destroy it, but she was still badly wounded. The med staff has had to regrow some of her limbs, which is why you haven’t seen her around. As for Marcys…”

“Why attack him?” Cody asked. “I can understand Valero, I guess, but Marcys barely knew any of us. He didn’t really have anything to do with this at all.”

“The day he was attacked, Marcys was testing a new type of camouflage,” Admiral Liang said, and Cody nodded. “It works beautifully on normal people, people who Regen, whether or not they’re also psychic. You were inside Hephaestus Tower that day, and Marcys was sitting outside. He saw Pamela approach the building and attach a device to it that would have illegally given her access. She didn’t see him, and didn’t know he was there to sense. Psychic power generally needs to be directed to have an effect. He confronted her, she attacked him, and soon thereafter you found where she had dragged his body.”

“This girl seems most disturbed,” the Perel—Ferran, that was it—commented.

“She isn’t typical of our cadets, I assure you,” Admiral Liang said. “Nevertheless, changes will have to be made to staffing and more rigorous protocols put in place for cadet oversight. I have a great deal to do over the semester break, and once you four have taken your final exams—which, yes,” he said, looking straight at Ten who had just opened hir mouth to object, “you do still have to take, you’ll all need to leave campus for a time.”

Cody frowned. “I’m supposed to be on the year-round program, though. It’s part of the operative training program.”

“I’m not certain that training to be an operative is the best future for you, Cody.” Admiral Liang held up a quelling hand. “It’s not a criticism, it’s merely an observation. There’s more possibility in your future than covert affairs, and I’m certainly not going to make you leave just because you’re following an atypical path for a natural at the Academy.”

“I’m supposed to be year-round as well,” Ten said, hoping it would make Cody feel a little less isolated.

“I’m supposed to go home,” Darrell mumbled unhappily.

“My plan has always been to bring Grennson back to Perelan for the duration of his break from the Academy,” Ferran said. “I have spoken with my husband and our matriarch, and they have agreed to extend an invitation to Perelan to the rest of you. You would all come home with us for your break. We have never had so many young humans in our clan before, but,” Ferran smiled, “I think you will be very welcome.”

“It would also give you a measure of safety, as well as making a statement of inclusiveness,” Admiral Liang continued. “Perelan is well protected and keeps very exacting track of every foreigner on the planet. Not to mention, this is an opportunity afforded to very few humans.”

“It’s okay with me,” Jonah said when Cody looked at him. “And with Garrett. Neither of us care to take you back to Liberty right now, way things are there.”

And then both of them looked at Ten, who—what, was this actually a question? They were really in doubt? “Of course I’m going, are you crazy? The number of experiments I could do on the atmosphere alone, we have to bring my lab along, is there room on your ship for my lab?” ze asked Ferran, who smiled.

“I’m sure we can make room for your equipment,” he promised, and Ten felt hir mind begin to soar with ideas, that familiar high of possibility and discovery. This was going to be amazing, incredible, ze could already think of a dozen experiments ze wanted to do and oh, now ze would have to read every scientific paper ze could find about Perelan, possibly combine them into some sort of meta so they’d be more easily searchable, and oh shit, ze needed to be at hir workstation now, and where was hir tab, and—

“Steady there,” Jonah said gently, and Ten realized ze was vibrating under his arm.

“Sorry,” ze said.

“S’okay. Just don’t get carried away quite yet.”

“You still have exams, all of you,” Admiral Liang reminded them. “There will be an increased security presence in your hall and in your classes for the rest of the semester. If people ask you questions, either tell them it’s classified or direct them to me. Get through your final week, keep this information to yourself, and be careful. I don’t anticipate any more problems but, very clearly, I’m not prescient.”

“What’s going to happen to Kyle?” Cody asked suddenly. “Are you really going to send him back to his brother?”

“Kyle’s already gone,” Admiral Liang said grimly. “It’s out of my hands now, I’m afraid.” He shared a look with Jonah that Ten wasn’t exactly sure how to interpret. “Now. Back to your quad. Captain Helms will escort you, he’s going to be staying at the Academy until you leave for Perelan.”

Damn. Getting some alone time with Cody suddenly seemed like much more of a challenge. Still, Ten couldn’t stop hir feelings of excitement from welling up. Ze had Cody to look forward to, science to look forward to, even time with Jonah to look forward to.

Things were definitely looking up.

The Academy Post #33

 

Notes:  So, not the longest chapter here, but one that I found really satisfying to write, and that I hope you enjoy too. I’m in such a great mood, I got a call from a publisher I’ve been dying to get in with this morning who said that they loved my work and wanted to see anything else I had, so…hooray for professional development! I needed that boost. Really winding down now, darlins. I’ve still got some explaining to do, but…

Actually, speaking of explaining, I have a confession to make: I’m not actually sure what I’ve done to Valero. I’ve got a few options but no strong feelings about it. If anyone cares to give me their thoughts about Valero’s fate, and doesn’t mind if I write it up if I like it, please feel free to share. Otherwise I may just consign her to the pile of “lost plot threads” that shamefully exists, and that would suck.

Title: The Academy

Part Thirty-Three: Use The Force, Darrell

 

***

 

It was five hours since the attack, and Darrell was exhausted.

Well, okay, he was more than exhausted. He’d been exhausted after finding everyone on the floor of their quad. He’d been emotionally wrung out at the sight of Cody and Ten and Grennson, especially Grennson, lying there with smoke still rising from his quills, clutching Pamela’s dead body and making that horrible noise. Just stepping into the room had given Darrell an instant headache, something in the air maybe, something that made his temples pound and his whole spine prickle. And then, impossibly, it had gotten worse.

Darrell had almost blacked out when the medics got Grennson onto the stretcher and took him away. They’d had to sedate him first, because the Perel had still been growling, snapping when they got close. No one was entirely sure how to properly sedate a Perel, though, and whatever they’d given Grennson, it had worn off in minutes.

Darrell had stayed close, unable to tear himself away even when the nurse wanted to put him out to treat the headache and his bruises from the fight with Kyle. He’d insisted on staying close, and so he got to watch them put Grennson in a room that was almost more prison cell than living suite, and then listen to them argue about what to do next. Regen was the human treatment of choice, but there were no settings in Regen for any aliens, much less the newest species to be known to the Federation. Meanwhile, Darrell watched Grennson become more and more aggravated, tearing at his own quills in between growls, thrashing his head from side to side like something was stuck inside and he was trying to shake it out. The longer Darrell watched the projection, the sicker he felt, until finally he pushed past the medical staff and let himself into the room.

They had tried to follow him, but as soon as Darrell stepped inside Grennson’s eyes were on him, and his hands stilled. Darrell started speaking in Perel—stupid, simple things, basic shit that he could barely remember thanks to the pain in his head. Grennson was—not calming down, exactly, but at least not actively hurting himself anymore.

“Whatever you’re doing,” one of the doctors said lowly, “keep it up. We’re going to try and get in touch with his parents. If you feel unsafe at any time, the door will open for you.”

The mere fact that they were willing to let Darrell stay spoke volumes. It was irregular—no, it was crazy—to let them interact like this, with Grennson unpredictable and Darrell not even sure he was having much of an effect, but the medical staff had even less of a clue than Darrell did. The last thing they wanted was for their one alien cadet to go insane on their watch though, and frankly that was the last thing Darrell wanted too. He was more than willing to be the guinea pig in this experiment.

Even do, after hours of the same thing, he hadn’t made any progress. Grennson wouldn’t let him come close, certainly not close enough to touch, and whenever Darrell stopped talking he started growling again. Darrell’s throat ached from so many glottals, and he was starting to feel dizzy from lack of water. He’d have to give up sooner or later, and then he had no idea what would happen to Grennson.

“All right,” a soft voice suddenly said through the comm. Both Darrell and Grennson started in surprise. “We’re in contact with one of Grennson’s parents, and we’re going to try something new.” A moment later the blue-white light of a hologram projected down from the ceiling, adding color and depth and finally resolving into the shape of another Perel. It was Ferran, Grennson’s Perel guardian. He immediately looked straight at Grennson and crouched down on one knee, speaking their language smoothly and melodically. Grennson still wasn’t growling, but he didn’t look any more relaxed either, just more confused.

“Hmm.” When Ferran looked over at Darrell, Darrell froze, feeling like he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Hello, Darrell.”

“Hi,” he said hoarsely. “Look…um…”

“The staff explained to me what happened,” Ferran said softly, his huge, luminescent eyes going back to his son. “I know that you’re helping as best you can.”

“Can’t you do more?” Darrell asked. “Do you know what’s wrong with him, can you fix it?”

“I have a thought about the problem,” Ferran said, and his quills flattened in the same way Grennson’s did when he was feeling sad or uncertain. “I don’t know much about human psychics, but I believe that the mechanism works in much the same way a Perel’s empathy does. The pain of the neural net, the harsh way it stimulated his brain even if it didn’t make total contact, and then facing down your psychic attacker after that…I’m afraid Grennson’s empathy is stuck on a loop. It can happen when we’re confronted with intense violence or fear. If I were there, I would meditate with him. We’re connected in such a way that my empathy would influence and calm his own.

“I’m not there, though, and while there are human sedatives that would work on Grennson, they would not free his mind from its turmoil. His pain would follow him into sleep.”

Darrell rubbed his eyes on the heels of his hands. “There has to be something we can do.”

When he looked up Ferran was grinning at him. “I like how you said ‘we,’” Ferran told him, still smiling, but his voice was serious. “Because I think there’s a chance that you’ll be the one to calm Grennson down.”

“I’ve tried, I’ve been trying,” Darrell protested. “It’s barely done anything.”

“You’ve never seen a Perel in a frenzy before, Darrell. I know humans use medicine to regulate their darker moods, but Perels rely on meditation, family and the strong presence of our matriarchs to keep us level. With none of those at hand, Grennson should be utterly manic right now, hurting himself, needing to be restrained. He isn’t, and that is your doing.”

That was…wow. Good to hear, but… “So what else can I do?” Darrell asked.

“Sit down on the floor. Cross-legged, with your hands palm up on your knees,” Ferran instructed. “Perel usually kneel when we meditate, but human knees are less robust. This is how Jason prefers to sit.”

Darrell lowered himself to the floor, wincing a little he tilted his aching head forward. He crossed his legs, got his hands into the right position, then said, “Now what?”

“Now I’m going to sit as well, but within you. Grennson can’t sense me, but seeing you coupled with my silhouette might be comforting to him.”

Right, the spines. Darrell held still as Ferran’s hologram sat down inside of him. It wasn’t that he could feel it, exactly, more like he thought he should. Either way, it wasn’t entirely comfortable, but whatever helped Grennson he would do.

“Now you need to calm your breathing,” Ferran said softly. “Let it start in the belly, then up into the chest. In through your nose, but out through your mouth, nice and slow. Go with me.” He inhaled and Darrell copied him, feeling his stomach muscles object to being asked to unclench. Once they did unclench though, Darrell found that he was breathing a lot easier.

They just breathed, just that, for several minutes. Grennson watched them from across the room, almost completely still, his eyes glittering through the slits of his lids. “Good,” Ferran said. “Very good. As you calm down so is he. I thought he might have established an empathic connection with you, but I couldn’t be sure until now. It’s only happened between a very small number of humans and Perel, and then only after sharing close quarters for a significant amount of time. Now. Look at him, and think about him. Think thoughts of warmth and comfort and family.”

When Darrell thought of his family, he was very rarely comforted. But, he realized, that didn’t matter. He wasn’t thinking about them, he was thinking about the family he’d chosen to have, and that began right here, with Grennson. Darrell looked at his roommate, his best friend, and thought about staying up late to practice Perel, and how awful his accent had been, how patient Grennson was with him.  He thought about the warm, sweet smell of lhosa tea, and the deliciousness of Grennson’s cooking. He thought about how finally, for the first time ever, he felt like someone had accepted him not for who his father was, but for who Darrell was, as his own person. Grennson was never malicious, never hurtful, sometimes teasing but never sharp. He made Darrell feel like there was more to life than the heaviness of other people’s expectations, and he had shared everything with Darrell: his culture, his language, even his own family. It was more than Darrell could ever repay, and he was so, so grateful.

Grennson crept across the floor, first fitfully, then with more confidence, until eventually he knelt directly in front of Darrell. Slowly, he leaned forward and touched their foreheads together.

It was like a window opened in Darrell’s mind. At first there was pain, and he could hear Pamela’s screams in his head, and feel her desperate, clawing attacks against his mind—no, no it was Grennson’s mind, but it felt like his own. That faded quickly though, until a minute later they were sharing the same emotions, a dizzying blend of gratitude and love and utter relief.

“Darrell,” Grennson said in a small voice, and that was it for meditating. Darrell pulled Grennson forward into his arms and hugged him tight to his chest. Grennson returned the embrace, slowly but tightly.

“My good boys,” Ferran said in Perel, and Darrell saw the Perel’s holographic arms emerge from his own body to stroke at Grennson’s head. Grennson purred, and Darrell kind of felt like purring himself, even though neither of them could feel it. “My good, dear boys. You’re all right now.”

Darrell thought they really might be.