Imposition

Imposition by Juniper Gray

Torquere Press www.torquerepress.com

Copyright ©2011 by Juniper Gray First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2011 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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Imposition by Juniper Gray

CONTENTS 1: HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE 2: VISITING HOURS 3: UNINVITED GUESTS 4: CORRECT USAGE OF AFTERBURNERS 5: PAST TRANSGRESSIONS 6: AN EXERCISE IN DIFFICULT TRUTHS 7: MOVING ON 8: ADVERSITY STRENGTHENS THE FOUNDATIONS 9: FRUITION EPILOGUE ****

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1: HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE His clothes clung to him in the sweltering heat, sticking and pulling at his weary flesh as his feet dragged through the sodden, dense undergrowth. The weight on his back was crippling him now, the burden becoming too much to bear— but still he pushed on, step after leaden step, breath ragged in his lungs and tears stinging his eyes from the desperation of it. He was tired. So very tired. Tired, and aching, and exhausted to his bones; sick to his stomach with fear and guilt, but unable to just stop. It should have been easy; should have been so simple just to let go, give in, to fall down and never get up again. But there was a small hope that kept pushing him on, a nagging thought at the back of his mind that it wasn't just his own life at stake here. The weight on his back was a constant reminder of that. **** Step, step, step, step. Therse's feet kept the rhythm even as his mind wandered, carrying him along the seemingly unending corridor without him giving them a second thought. Step, step, step, step. The sound of heavy boots on hardened acrylic, ringing out against the high, angled walls and chasing him as echoes or running on ahead. It was a long time since he'd last looked out of the windowed wall to the 5

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side of him. Even if he'd felt the inclination, there would have been nothing to see out in the cold, desolate vacuum. The ship had an odd smell. Not quite "clean"—there was no scent of products—it was simply sterile, like an absence of life. He passed one of the ship's many cleaning drones, the dark shining oval hovering about half a meter above the ground and pointlessly making its slow, deliberate way across the floor. Its gentle hum sang to the beat of his footsteps until the little machine was too far away for the sound to reach him anymore. It was a six-kilometer run around the ship at its widest point. Therse reckoned he was at about the six-kilometer point of his ten-kilometer run—a hundred meters farther every day—but he was already exhausted. Sweat ran from his brow and dripped off the end of his nose, tickled down his flushed cheeks and met his parted lips. Every muscle ached from the effort of vigorous movement; every sinew in his body straining to breaking point to keep up with his merciless, pounding rhythm. His lungs burned with each breath, knees and hips shuddering with each impact. But more than anything, his feet hurt. He stepped up his pace again, eager to prevent the memories of that time from ghosting back into his consciousness. They'd made an unwelcome reappearance in his dreams only that morning. Listening to the strain and ache of his body granted him a reprieve, and gave him opportunity not to dwell on certain other complications to his life. Here, there was nothing but the open, aseptic corridor and the vastness of space. For all intents and purposes he 6

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could have been the only being in the entire universe, enjoying an empty existence every bit as fruitless and pointless as the cleaning drone's. Unfortunately, he was not so lucky. "Therse, you bastard." The sudden noise nearly knocked him on his arse, boots squeaking against the floor until he regained his rhythm. Every day for the two weeks they'd been aboard, he would get up and go for a run. Every day, he would take his communications equipment with him so that he could be contacted by his single crew-mate in case of an emergency. And every day, without fail, his crew-mate would call him on his ear-piece with nothing better in mind than to disturb his run, break his concentration, and annoy the hell out of him. Well, not today. Therse had gone running without it, and as there was no way of interrupting him, he could finally get the peace and distance he was looking for. Or so he'd thought. "I know you can hear me. Why did you run off without your kit? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" Therse clenched his hands into fists as he ran, determined to ignore it. He never would have imagined the man would use the ship's intercom just to annoy him. "The-er-sss..." the man's voice echoed round the corridor. "I know you're there somewhere...and you know I won't leave you in peace if you refuse to talk to me..." Therse grit his teeth, knowing that to be true. He ran to the nearest wall-stowed comms point—a tiny screen embedded discreetly in the wall. It flickered to life as he 7

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shuddered to a stop, blue holographic menus swirling into relief over it. "What?" he asked it. The screen chirped pleasantly, the display chasing away when the connection was made and switching over to a blond man in a white shirt and fatigues leaning far too close to the screen. The man pulled back and came into focus, a boyish grin of victory spreading across his features. He raised an eyebrow and peered at Therse through a midlength mess of hair. "Oh, there you are! You look like shit; you should get a shower." "What do you want, Gen?" Therse hissed, feeling the weariness begin to creep into his bones. Picking up from where he'd left off would be practically impossible now. "I made you a coffee, it's getting cold," the man said, holding a steaming cup up to the screen. The little cup was obscuring his face, but Therse knew exactly what expression he would be wearing. The kind of expression that made Therse want to ball his hand into a hard fist and thrust it square into the center of Gen's face. "I fucking hate you," Therse muttered and started off again, feet dragging from the effort. He was determined not to lose. Behind him, Gen's laughter washed into the corridor. "You were the one who decided we should avoid cryosleep, remember?" came the shout. "You've only yourself to blame." Just one of many life-decisions Therse wished he could revisit. **** 8

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The door to his quarters hissed open; the pleasant sound of coming home that meant there would be no more running until tomorrow. Therse walked across the room to the small bathroom on the other side, shedding his clothes as he went, dropping them here and there to be tidied up later when he wasn't so exhausted. His muscles ached fiercely, hot and tense beneath his cooling skin as he massaged his thighs and calves. He longed for a shower. Or even a bath. A real bath, where you lay and soaked in it for hours and no one bothered you, not the dull, efficient sonic version where it was all over-with in five minutes. He looked down at his feet. His poor, swollen, aching feet on the end of his tired, aching legs. He supposed it was his own fault, really. If he'd kept up the training regimen when they'd first been posted out to a pointless reconnaissance mission in the middle of nowhere, he wouldn't be in the state he was now. Six months of laziness and large ration portions out there had certainly caught up with him. He settled for a shower in the end. A bath had seemed like altogether too much effort, especially after the ship had droned on at him about how bathing was so energy-inefficient and sapped the last of the fun out of the experience. There was also the possibility that, had he sat down, he never would have gotten up again. His body was weary now, legs shuddering with each step towards the shower, feet groaning from heel to tip-toe. He felt even heavier knowing he'd have to do it all over again tomorrow, and then some, if he wanted to keep improving. 9

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He looked down at his naked body, poking his thighs and patting his stomach. The easy, laid-back existence at the uninspiringly-named "Epsilon Outpost" had made him lazy, and the tone in his musculature was only just starting to return after two weeks' solid training. He remembered how Genham had looked only the other day, lying shirtless on the sofa in one of the many communal areas, reading the news screen. Bastard barely had to do any work at all to keep his physique. Which reminded Therse he hadn't read the news himself recently, and if the situation was changing in the region they were headed to, he needed to know. "Screen," he said to the room, pushing his hair back from his face and rubbing his eyes clear of sweat. The bathroom mirror switched from a reflecting projection to a screen filled with floating menu options. "News. Multi-sector." The screen presented him with selections of news summaries, live-streams, and various articles from across Inhabited Space. He scanned through the channels, searching for anything relevant. "...UPA Congress ministers met with Conglomerate representatives today as new plans were unveiled for...quarantined after over a hundred thousand new confirmed cases of viral haemocytosis...agreed on repealing a law preventing corporate involvement in Navy activities...massacre of civilians in the rebel-held regions of the Carbera system..." Therse stopped channel-hopping. He'd found what he was looking for. Carbera was where he and Genham were headed. The screen showed him footage of the aftermath, apparently sent in by the rebels themselves, judging by the 10

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obvious pride in the macabre camerawork. The camera dragged from one body to the next, lingering on the haunting, twisted faces of the dead. Particular attention was paid to a young girl, no older than ten. "...with estimates of civilian deaths now up into the millions. Navy forces are already arriving into the region amid hopes they can finally restabilize the system..." Therse had heard that a lot of Navy personnel were being transferred to Carbera from across the sector. Now he understood why. There was time to think about that later. He'd seen enough. "Off." The screen gave the appearance of dissolving, and he was left staring at his reflection again. Steam filled the little shower cubicle behind him now, its containment inside fields and flexiglass giving it the appearance of a strange misty pillar standing on one side of the room. The en-suite bathroom was every bit as minimalist as the bedroom it was attached to—no attempt made to make the place seem homely in the slightest—and just like the rest of the ship, it had that odd feel of being un-lived in, almost like a doll's house, as though everything was only for display and was never meant to be used. Therse approached the shower, and the transparent flexiglass door slid open without so much as a wisp of steam escaping. The ship was very particular about damp (to the point of obsession), so all the steam got vented through a small aperture it had installed in the ceiling after he had 'insisted on his preference for water-based methods of hygiene'. He'd decided it could be as pissy as it wanted, he was having this one luxury. 11

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Whether the glass opening was automatic or the ship's doing, he couldn't tell. The AI was definitely more sluggish than he was used to. Its functions and running capacity seemed rudimentary. Most ship AIs were at least a bit talkative, but the Terminal Regret had wanted nothing to do with either him or Genham from the minute they'd boarded. From what he'd seen of its schematics (once he had persuaded it to share them) it had once been an Expeditionclass Navy gunship, decommissioned and stripped of most of its weaponry save for a couple of useless turrets to fend off raiders if they ever got too close, then re-fitted to act as a sort of cruise-liner through the stars. It certainly adopted the leisurely speed of a cruise vessel, though with none of the scenery, luxury, or sparkling company to go with it. More like a low-specification military transport with all the fun removed, and in its place an unnerving disposition to keep things justso. The whole set-up felt a bit odd. It didn't make much sense to have such a massive cruiser serving a route that was rarely used. The ship had room enough to comfortably carry a thousand or more personnel, and yet it carried two. He and Genham were like dried peas rattling around inside a tin barrel. They'd had the option of doing the voyage in cryosleep, but that would have meant a month's preparation for storage and a month's restoration after it on the other side. Back when they had learned of their reassignment, the ship had only been two weeks away, so they would have missed it the first time and had to wait another three months to catch it on 12

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the next cycle. He'd made the executive decision that they jump on it and do the whole thing out of stasis—something Genham was apparently keen not to let him forget, even though he'd agreed to it. "Damn asshole," Therse muttered to the empty bathroom. He shouldered into the hot water and wondered idly whether or not to take his comms with him on his next run. He supposed he might be able to instruct the ship not to contact him unless Genham could convince it the situation was urgent... He watched the water cascade over his chest and torso, following the furrows between his pectoral muscles and abs to his groin, pinking his tanned skin where it flowed. He lifted his hands and splayed his fingers, drops from the showerhead hitting his palms and falling like monsoon rain over his feet. He tipped his head back far enough so that the water flowed into and over his ears, muting the world with fluid noise for a few long moments until his short black hair was soaked through. He looked down at his feet and wriggled his toes. It seemed like they were starting to forgive him. He stood there for a while with his eyes closed, thoughts coasting through his mind until the skin at his fingertips began to wrinkle. He washed, using the formulated concoction the ship had provided him with. It lathered altogether more than he was used to and smelled distinctly odd, but it wasn't like there was an alternative. He ran his hands firmly over his body, soaping and rinsing with his eyes closed, listening to the gentle spray, mind 13

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wandering in a certain direction. By the time he reached his groin, his cock was already hard. He ran a hand down behind his balls, pushing his hips forward into the flow so that the suds got rinsed away down his thighs. He kept his hand there, stroking, leaning a shoulder against the wall of the shower, bringing the fingers of his other hand to his shaft and sliding up, turning to palm as he reached his glans. He worked with both hands together, lips flushed and parting with the increasing pleasure and declining oxygen in the small enclosed cubicle. He thought about tight, warm muscle surrounding his cock, pulsing and clenching as he thrust inside. He worked faster and spread his legs, presenting himself to imaginary hot lips and eager tongue that savored the taste of him and begged him to come. He wanted to come. He moved his fingers to his balls, finding them tight and ready. He spread his legs wider, working up a rhythm and leaning so that his back was full against the wall. Even with all the water, all the splashes and spray, he could feel how wet he was. His thighs shuddered as he neared climax, and he slowed his hands, panting as heat flushed his cheeks. He looked down at his cock, pulling the foreskin taut and exposing his head. A drop of pre-come pooled at his slit and dripped slowly over him. He rubbed his thumb through it, slick and smooth and frictionless, and thought of that mouth again. Thought of running his fingers into mid-length hair and gripping tight as lips and mouth worked over him, thought of holding them still and close as he prepared to paint his come all over those attractive features. 14

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Orgasm coiled in his gut, and he tensed, riding the waves of pleasure that pulsed with each instinctive thrust of his hips as he fucked himself through it. Frustrations marginally spent, he deflated a little and breathed heavily, rinsing his hand through the shower then cleaning his prick. It annoyed him that his mind always traveled in more-or-less the same direction when he was jerking off. "Shower off," he said, then stood dripping for a while, scrutinizing the room outside the cubicle. Having your own bathroom brought a certain amount of privacy—once you got beyond the thought that the ship could be observing you at any time—Therse at least welcomed that. Having to rough it out with a bunch of thick-necked dimwits was limited fun at the best of times, let alone if you were all naked and standing far closer together than felt comfortable. It had certainly never been something that had bothered Genham. He had fit right in immediately with the rest of their squad—not that that came as too much of a shock, they were his kind of people, after all—acting just like when he and Gen had first enrolled: a dumb, bullish, insensitive asshole, strutting around in the nude, talking shit, and dishing out jibes to any unfortunate within earshot. Something he used to do to Therse, on quite a regular basis and with some amount of venom. Droplets of water tickled their way down Therse's back and slipped between his buttocks. He put his palm out to lean on the flexiglass, but it moved out of his way, making him stumble awkwardly out of the 15

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cubicle, dripping and naked. He definitely would have gotten a ribbing for that back at the Navy base, but now there was no one there but him, standing damp and alone in the not insubstantial bathroom of his chosen suite somewhere in the vacuum between Epsilon and Gogh. He remembered that he needed to get back into the cubicle to dry himself and wafted a hand hesitantly at the glass film until it retracted—rather abruptly—and stepped back in again. After two weeks of doing this, he really should have learned already. He lifted his arms up and imagined how ridiculous he must look. "Dry," he told the little display. After some experience of the process and a working knowledge of what was coming next, he screwed his eyes tight shut in anticipation. The twin blasts of hot air hit him like a scouring desert wind, and would have knocked him from his feet had they not been in directly opposing orientations. The experience was thoroughly unpleasant—not as unpleasant as when he'd done it the first time with his eyes open—but at least he was moreor-less completely dry in a couple of seconds. The furnace vents shut off and retracted back into the wall, and Therse stepped from the cubicle onto the soft tactile rubber floor. His reflection stared back at him from the room's field mirror, looking every bit as exhausted as he felt. He ran a hand through his short, unruly hair and pushed it halfheartedly into some sort of order, inspected his chin and decided a bit of stubble never did anyone any harm. The bedroom was spacious and simple, the only things in the room a large bed and a sturdy-looking desk he would 16

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never use. He and Genham had both chosen what probably amounted to Officer's quarters, which they'd agreed they were entitled to, given that they were the highest ranks aboard the vessel, and because it was unlikely they'd be visited by a Captain or higher with nothing better to do than climb aboard the good-ship Middle of Nowhere. The wallscreen opposite the bed flickered lazily to life as he walked towards it and popped the wall storage open, grabbing out a new shirt and fatigues. He watched the screen again for a couple of minutes as he dressed, only paying attention to the worst of the news headlines and feeling the dawning realization he was incredibly hungry. **** The Officers' mess was a sizable cafeteria supplied by a number of auto-service units situated in a cluster off to one side—the only ones they really used being the hot drinks machine and one that produced food resembling hot noodle soup. Nothing that came out of the other units seemed even remotely palatable, though the ship claimed the products were both edible and nutritious. Therse picked his way through the maze of tables and chairs to the unit where his crew-mate was standing. Genham smirked at him across the light, open space. Therse ignored him, sidling past and picking up the cold coffee the man had been so kind to have the machine produce for him, tipping it away down a vacuum port. "I went to all that effort, and you let it get cold." 17

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Therse said nothing. He glanced across at the comms unit in the nearby wall the man had used to contact him and wondered if there was a way to disable it, but in all honesty if he did that he'd have to disable every point on the ship. He rinsed the cup out and replaced it under the machine's nozzle, selecting a new black coffee. A stream of hot brown liquid dispensed into it, filling the air with that invigorating scent. "You get your miles in?" Therse shot Genham a glare. He'd seated himself with one foot up on the table and was rocking back in his chair like a mischievous child, signature grin plastered over his face. Therse turned back to his coffee, picking the mug up and inhaling the aromas. He took a sip. If you squinted, it almost tasted good. He pulled out a seat opposite Genham and sat down, placing his coffee on the table a safe distance from Genham's foot. Genham leaned forward, scrutinizing his expression in mock concern. "Are you still sulking?" Therse took another emphatic sip of his bad coffee as Genham took a bite of something. He supposed he should eat too, though it seemed like far too much effort when everything tasted of nothing. He glanced at Genham, eyes going wide and jaw dropping as he realized what it was exactly that the other man was eating. Juice was running down his chin from the bite he'd left in it. The tomato was more red and sweet-looking than anything Therse had ever seen in his life. 18

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"Where the hell did you get that?" he asked in astonishment, fixated on the soft, bright fruit. "Oh, you're talking to me now?" Genham showed him the contents of his other hand. Another tomato. He tossed it to Therse, who caught it as if it had been a tiny red baby. He smudged a thumb over it, feeling the soft skin ripple. It was perfectly ripe. He looked over at Genham, almost expecting this to be some trick. The man was sucking on his fingers. Therse was salivating like a hungry dog. "How does it taste?" The blond-haired man just smiled back at him. A rare, genuine smile. Therse parted his lips and bit into the tomato, his mouth flooding with flavor. It was incredible. He smiled despite himself, the irritation of earlier suddenly forgiven. "That'sh good," he said through a mouthful, pushing the rest of it inside and filling his cheeks. "Are zhere mo?" "There's a biohab," Genham told him. Therse's jaw stopped working, and he just stared, unable to comment with a face-full of juicy tomato. He chewed the rest quickly with reluctance and swallowed, wiping his chin off on the back of his hand then sucking on it. "Where? How did you find it?" "When the ship gave us a tour of the facilities it forgot to mention three entire floors," Genham replied, stretching his arms up above his head. "Why would it leave something like that out? We've been living on crap from the vendors for weeks. And I can't even remember the last time I saw a tomato." He looked down at 19

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his fingers, where some of the juice still remained. "What's the hab like?" Genham shrugged. "Like any other really. All hydroponics and plants and stuff. Big enough to supply this ship's oxygen and then some though, I reckon." "Hmm," Therse said, scratching his chin. "These seven weeks might not be so bad after all." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Means you've been irritating the shit out of me, is what it means." Genham snorted and folded his arms across his broad chest. "Like I said, doing the shuttle awake was your choice, not mine." "Yeah, I didn't think it would be just us. I didn't think I would have to suffer seven weeks of nothing but air-foils and craft engineering and you," Therse complained. "I thought there would at least be some other normal personnel around as well." "I like how you're insinuating that you'd be one of them." A glare. Therse looked him over. "You should get back into training again, we're going to need to be fit for the next detail." Genham fidgeted in his chair and straightened up, tugging his white t-shirt straight across his chest. "Look, I just don't care about it as much as you do. I'll start when we're nearly there or something." Therse sat up, suddenly full of seriousness. "No, you need to start now. The atmosphere's going to be lower in oxygen than we're used to. I've already asked the ship to decrease 20

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the oxygen concentration of our atmosphere accordingly so we can get accustomed to it." "When the fuck were you going to tell me?" Genham said, affronted. "Now, I guess." Therse shrugged as he licked the last of the tomato juice from his fingers. "You can't make decisions that affect me without my consent." "Don't be a jackass," Therse told him, fixing his gaze. "You know it makes sense." "I'm the jackass? I'm not the one making decisions without telling anybody when we're the same damn rank. Anything else you want to tell me?" Genham glared at him. "There is, isn't there?" Therse met his eye guiltily. "The planet's gravity is higher, too," he muttered, picking up his mug and blowing on its contents. "Oh great," Genham said, waving his arms wide. "Thanks for the notification, sir." Therse snorted into his coffee, and the facade collapsed. Genham folded his arms and tipped his head to the side, jutting out his chin in annoyance. "Not a damn thing's been changed, has it?" "Nope," Therse said, swallowing and trying not to let victory show on his features. "Conditions on the next planet are almost exactly what we're already accustomed to." Genham shot him a look like he was a total jerk, but conceded that had been well-played. He rose from his chair and turned towards one set of large double doors to the 21

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mess, glancing over his shoulder and grinning as he went, Therse having reminded him that they were equally matched. "If you need me for anything, I'll be in the sim bay," he said. [Back to Table of Contents]

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2: VISITING HOURS He was running. Pounding through the dark jungle, slipping on the dense vegetation beneath his boots, grabbing at anything his hands could reach. The rain soaked him to his skin, torrential and endless, turning the ground into a twisted mass of black, slicked mud. He caught his foot on a root, and it brought him crashing down, sprawling over and over in the undergrowth. The mud stuck to him like engine lubricant, dragging on him, holding him as he reached desperately for safety. He realized in his panicked struggle that the mud was alive; swarming creatures writhing around him, crawling across his body, pushing him under. He opened his mouth to scream, and the mud rushed inside. Therse awoke with a start, lurching forward, hand immediately to his mouth. But there was no mud. No jungle, no rain, no mud-creatures. Only the empty room and the bed, sheets tangled around his legs. He was still breathing heavily from the shock of it, putting a hand against his bare chest to feel his heart racing. He swung his legs off the bed and shielded his eyes when the room lights came on automatically, reminding himself to change the lighting program later. He sat for a moment until the sweating and the shakes died down. He'd dreamed about it for the second night in a row. Kicking the sheets off, he got up, pulled on his clothes, and went for a run, just like he always did. 23

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**** "Did you miss me this morning?" Therse had been deep in thought and started a little at the sound of Gen's voice in the quiet mess hall. It brought him back to reality. He slid his cup under the dispenser and selected coffee, wondering how long he'd been standing there before Gen's interruption. The recurring nightmare wasn't the only thing on his mind. Therse had also been thinking about the little pocket-screen stowed in his bedside drawer. He'd received a letter that morning—an important letter that could change everything. He needed to talk to Gen about it, but didn't know how or where to begin. So he avoided beginning altogether. "No, but I appreciate you not being a dick today. Wait, that's not like you, what's wrong?" "Ass." Gen folded his arms and was silent for a moment. "Don't you think you're taking this whole thing a little too seriously?" "What?" "I dunno, life, in general. You never take any time to just...relax. We've got the perfect opportunity here, and all you seem to want to do is work." Therse shrugged and leant back against the counter. "Look, I like to keep my mind busy, okay?" "No one's going to judge you if you take a little 'r and r'." "I don't give a shit about people judging me," Therse snorted, taking a sip of too-hot coffee. 24

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"That's bullshit," Gen said, making a lopsided grin and shaking his head. "You've always been the same. You never stop. You're always doing something, some project or other." He wagged a finger at Therse. "You know, Mal and Byrn always had you down as the one most likely to burn out through over-work." Two of their closest friends from the military academy. Nice to know what they'd really thought of him. "So I like to be productive. All I'm doing is getting back into shape." "You're in shape anyway." Gen's eyes drifted over him from foot to head. Therse raised his cup to take another sip and hide the spreading blush on his cheeks. "You're such an over-achiever." Therse scowled. It was like they were back in the academy again. He wanted to point out that that wasn't true, and that he probably only seemed like an over-achiever to Gen because Gen was pretty much the antithesis, but he bit his tongue. "Oh, and what do you suggest I do with my time instead?" "I have an idea," Gen replied, grinning mischievously. **** The room was a vast, open space with strange angular gray-blue walls, dotted periodically with small black pits and circles. Therse looked down at the ridiculous artifacts that had been clamped uncomfortably around his wrists, ankles, waist and neck in the name of fun. He shot a flat look over at Gen through the overly-large and cumbersome visor screen covering his face. 25

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Gen was smiling at him and hopping excitedly from foot to foot. "Don't give me that," he said, barely able to contain his glee that he had actually managed to persuade Therse into this nonsense. "Just wait 'til it starts, you'll see." Therse looked back to the room, his feet planted flat on the ground, hands hanging by his sides, and waited unenthusiastically for whatever was supposed to happen to start happening. And then it was as if another world had switched on. The walls were replaced by a great white dome, broad and smooth above them. Therse wanted to go and touch the walls, to see if he could feel the real version through the fake. He spun around and the door had vanished too. Losing such an important bearing was incredibly disconcerting to him, but apparently of no concern to Gen, whose only opinion on their situation was, "Cool, huh?" Therse was yet to be convinced. This was by no means his first experience of a sim. He'd been in them countless times in the leisure facilities of docking stations and larger carrier craft, been thrilled and entertained (and sometimes titillated) by their interactive scenarios—he knew them well. They were the newer breed; the next generation of holos—all-absorbing, with far gentler introduction to the experience than this version's apparent 'on/off' control, and most importantly, no need for paraphernalia. All the sims he'd been in before had been direct retinabroadcast. Judging from the dark pits he'd seen in the walls and the absence of a tell-tale core in his visor above each eye, this sim was a real-world overlay. Inefficient tech long 26

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rendered obsolete. He couldn't quite understand why his crew-mate enjoyed it so much. Gen was about ten feet away off to his side, looking pensively at a drop-down menu Therse couldn't read from that distance or angle, but guessed it was a selection of games. He felt himself smile a little at how ridiculous Gen looked, how he held himself without an iota of selfconsciousness. He'd always been that way, and Therse was a tad envious. Gen made a choice and the menu evaporated. He started jigging about again as though they were preparing for a ten kilometer run. Therse really hoped that wasn't what he'd picked. Then he noticed the sound of Gen's feet had changed from a dull patter to a sharp squeaking with each impact, like steps taken on a polished wood floor. He looked down and realized why. The floor was no longer a dull gray acrylic. It had been transformed into a light-colored, gleaming wood that seemed to stretch for hundreds of meters. Therse nudged at it with his toe, and got the same sharp noise he could remember such floors making in the posh private boy's school he and his friends had once broken into, where they'd played all night and overslept on the soft matting. It had almost been worth the beating his father had given him afterwards. The only thing missing was the smell of polish. He noticed that Gen had something in his hand—a long, tapered stick that was wider at the end farthest away from him. He was holding it out, inspecting it. Gen noticed Therse looking and flipped it over in his hand. 27

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Therse frowned. "Where did you get that?" "Same place you got yours." Sure enough, a similar-looking piece was in Therse's right hand. He stared at it, bemused. It certainly felt real—he squeezed his fingers around it and felt the grain of the 'wood' in relief under his fingertips and palm. This sim felt oddly intrusive—he was used to the holos that slowly eased you in to something, that let you select and pick up your own equipment before you used it—but there was something refreshing about this immediacy. As he was trying to figure out how it was doing all this, he became aware of a certain focused heat on the back of his neck, where the collar met his skin. "Wait, is this a fucking neural induction sim?" "Yup!" "Shit, these were banned years ago for being a goddamn health hazard!" "That was only in cases of prolonged use. Don't be such a spoil-sport." But Therse was already pulling at his collar. "There are regulations for a reason. Evidence of long-term neural damage—" "Jeez, this is just one time. You'll be fine; man the fuck up. The ship wouldn't let us use it if it was really dangerous. Probably." Gen looked up as circles of different colors, sizes and shades began to appear over the dome. "It's too late now anyway." The warm feeling was still bothering Therse, but he let it go, watching the pastel circles as they sailed and shifted 28

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about, some flowing over one another, some merging and changing shade, some disappearing abruptly and then reappearing somewhere else. Each circle carried a number, never higher than twenty. Their values, Therse assumed. "What are the rules?" "You get points for each circle you hit with the ball. The numbers tell you how much one's worth—the smaller they are, the more you get for hitting them. They move, they change points value, teleport. There's only one ball. You touch it with anything other than the play," he held up the tapered stick and wagged it at Therse in illustration, "that's an automatic five-point deduction. If you want to pick up and hold the ball, you press the play with your index finger when you go to hit it; release it by releasing that finger. Hold for longer than two seconds and it's a ten-point penalty. First to fifty wins a mark. A game has three marks, so it's best-ofthree." Two small squares appeared on the surface of the court, spaced about fifteen meters apart. Gen stepped into one and Therse did the same of the other, watching him cautiously. He'd definitely done this before. A field sprang up around their squares, shimmering blue and displaying a ten-second countdown. Therse gave it a poke. It was warm and tingly, but unyielding. A barrier. In front of them, at what Therse guessed would be an equal distance away from both squares, the ball appeared. It was a black sphere about the size of the tomatoes they'd eaten yesterday, hard-looking like a shiny marble and with an 29

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appearance like it would really crack you one if it hit you. Therse had to remind himself it wasn't a real marble. It dropped, and the field restraining them dissipated. Gen was on it in a flash, reaching the ball before it could even get to the floor. He swung hard at it, firing it off towards a twenty-point circle with an almighty 'whack', narrowly missing the tiny spot as it moved across the skin of the dome. Gen tutted in frustration and leapt for the ball again, smacking it with the play and sending it easily into the center of a giant purple two-point blob. The blob gave the appearance of fizzing, then disappeared altogether. "Two points, Genham Drisjic." The ship's voice, in its usual uninterested tone. "The ship's keeping count for us?" "Sure, why not?" "Well, at least it means you can't cheat this time." "The fuck are you talking about? I never need to cheat..." Therse used the lapse in Gen's concentration to pick up the ball. He tried out the capabilities of the play, squeezing his index finger as he swung, holding for a second and releasing trigger-like, flinging the little black sphere to the far wall where a gaily-colored orange circle awaited. "Five points, Therse Bodan." "Not bad, not bad," Gen muttered. Therse set his shoulders and lay one hand on his hip, looking down the line of the play at Gen as they waited for the ball to reset its position. "Don't sound so surprised. I was always better than you at this kind of thing, remember?" 30

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Gen tipped his head back, grin spreading wide across his features. "As-fucking-if." "Whatever you say. I won't hear any of your excuses when I wipe the floor with you at a game I've only just learned." The ball re-materialized on the other side of the great dome. Both men sprinted for it, feet hammering down against the squeaking floor. But Therse was faster—a product of his training perhaps—but more likely he was being powered by his sheer will not to let Gen beat him. He had a reputation to uphold, even if it was just between the two of them. Therse swiped the little ball and glanced back over his shoulder, his arms moving in a wide arc as his body twisted, pulling the play with him as he chose the spot he would aim for. He felt a connection; wood scraping against wood. He turned just in time to see Gen fire the ball off comfortably into another two-point spot. "Hey!" He yelled. "Four points, Genham Drisjic." "Oh, and you can steal your opponent's ball." "So I fucking see!" Gen had nothing but a grin for Therse, jogging backwards towards the center of the court. They played on, and Therse quickly got the hang of it. He was beginning to see patterns in the way the spots moved; how long they stayed around, how likely they were to teleport when they were a certain size. He decided a tactical sacrifice of the first point would be acceptable if it would give him chance to gain a better understanding of the game. So he hung back a little, still engrossed in the game but all the time watching the dome, watching the way Gen moved, how he 31

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acted in response to different scenarios, so that he could plan counter-tactics. Gen narrowly sank a ten-pointer with his usual unfair flair for good luck, and with that the round was won. "First mark: Genham Drisjic," the ship announced. Gen raised his fists triumphantly and gloated over at Therse. "No fucking fair that you didn't tell me about that stealing shit." "Such a sore loser," Gen laughed. "Weren't you going to wipe the floor with me?" "Oh, I'm gonna," Therse replied as they stalked back to the two black squares on the court to await the re-setting of the ball. It re-set and released again, and they both shot towards it. This time, Therse had a plan to seal victory. As they continued, dodging and feinting and goading at one another as the points rolled in, Therse could feel himself smiling, loosening up. This was a more pleasant experience than he'd anticipated. "It's been a while since I've seen that face on you," Gen said, looking over at him. Something in that look forced an extra heat to Therse's cheeks beyond the sheen of exertion. "What?" "Like you're enjoying yourself. It suits you." The truce of kindness was only momentary—the instant the ball returned to the floor, Gen was on it, chasing it as it bounced high back up into the air. Therse knew which spot he would be going for—a large, juicy-looking fifteen-pointer, 32

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somehow much bigger than it ought to have been for its value. He positioned himself. Gen's moves fitted Therse's predictions exactly. At the same moment Gen swung to hit the ball with an overconfident but well-aimed backhand, Therse was already jumping. Jumping with a spin, so that if he timed it just right— His play intercepted Gen's ball swing, catching the little orb with satisfying precision as he continued to turn in mid-air. He brought his arm around in a sharp arc, flinging the ball square into the center of the same fifteen-pointer. "Fifty points: Therse Bodan. Second mark: Therse Bodan." "You cheap asshole, that was my frigging shot! You just hijacked it!" "Be less predictable then. Not my fault." In the third and final round, all bets were off. Too much was at stake—neither man could afford to come out the loser. They fought for and chased the ball like their lives depended on it, already flagging from the exertions of the previous two rounds. Gen was doing his best to hide his panting, trying to conceal the rapid movement of his chest despite his shirt clinging to him with sweat and making it obvious, at least to Therse's eyes. Therse himself was playing a cleverer game; slackening his jaw, letting his shoulders droop, making himself look more exhausted than he really was. His tactics were paying off. Gen wasn't pushing himself so hard to get to the ball, reserving his energy and his strength for a game of stamina rather than impulse. Therse had him. 33

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He crossed the court with a sudden burst of speed, powering over to the ball Gen had been so confident Therse had no hope of reaching before him, his expression twisting in surprise as Therse plucked the ball from the air in front of him and landed himself four points. Therse felt the brush as Gen moved past him, and watched him go. Gen's thin, cheaplymade Navy shirt clung to him, plastered with wet to his spine and across the broad of his back. Clung just tightly enough that Therse could make out the way his muscles moved beneath it. Therse watched him as they vied for the remaining points. Gen was lithe and naturally athletic, perhaps a shade taller than Therse, with long muscular legs and broad shoulders. His arms were nicely built and undoubtedly powerful. Gen had always had an impressive instinctive ability to judge a situation, to know its holes and identify threats that might arise, or identify and exploit factors Therse himself might miss, and all without actually having to give it any thought or calculation. Therse knew those skills would one day make Gen a first-rate squad commander in battle, and if he was honest, he was a little jealous that something he had to work so hard at, had to spend so long playing out in his mind, came so easily to Gen. Instinct wasn't the only thing Gen had going for him. He had a way with the troops—both under him and even above— that made them listen, take note. They respected him before he even opened his mouth, but all Therse could ever muster from them after what he would consider a rousing sermon was bored compliance. Therse had a fantastic mind for clever 34

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tactics and dirty tricks, but could never win his men over in the way Gen so effortlessly could, even though they'd had the same amount of field experience and were both Lieutenants. Therse managed to get around Gen again by setting the ball up to land just where he wanted it. Gen was pelting towards him at full speed, eyes fixed on the little black prize. Therse hit the ball, and sent it towards empty space on the skin of the dome. "Where the hell are you aiming?" Gen laughed, breathless. But Therse didn't look back at him. He just stood there calmly, waiting. A dense-tone purple twenty-point spot appeared just where the little ball connected with the dome. Therse turned to his crew-mate with what he thought might be a sufficiently arrogant expression. Gen looked back at him with a stifled mixture of masked awe, jealousy, and irritation. "Any idiot can whack a ball at some spots. What sets me apart from you is my ability to read a situation." Therse told him. Gen puffed a strand of hair out of his eyes under the visor, and pretended to ignore him. I guess we complement each-other, in a way. Two generals of a very different ilk. That had been impressive, yes, but they were both very close to the target of fifty points total, and for all his clever tricks, Therse was still losing. The next sink would probably determine the game. The ball dropped a little distance away from both of them—the ship at this point not even bothering to re-set 35

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properly with the field-boxes—but it looked arguably closer to Therse. "What you going to do now?" he yelled back at Gen, running for the ball to claim his self-assured victory. Gen ran right at him at break-neck speed, grabbing Therse around the waist with one arm. The sudden force and distraction made him falter, shoving down on Gen's arm to get himself released—but it was too late. He was already heading straight for the ball in a way that would see him to a nice juicy points deduction. His only option was to go for a full stumble and miss the ball altogether, hoping Gen would fudge the shot and allow him a second chance. He rolled as he thudded to the floor, facing upwards just in time to see Gen's last points land. "Third mark: Genham Drisjic. Match: Genham Drisjic." "Oh, yes," Gen said, grinning and stepping almost ceremonially over Therse's fallen body. Therse had half a mind to grab Gen's ankle and bring the cheating bastard down, but he kept the urge to himself and stood as gracefully as possible. "You are such an asshole. Didn't you see that?" he asked the ship. "There is nothing in the rules prohibiting physical contact," it replied, with all the luster of someone vaguely involved with their dealings whilst at the same time studying the back of a ration packet. "There's that, and then there's rough-housing." "You never change, do you?" Gen sneered. "Always wanting an honorable outcome." 36

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Therse wanted to give him a good hard shove. He settled for words though, as always. "And what about you? Always wanting to find the easiest, most reliable route to a quick, certain victory, no matter the consequences." "That's war," Gen snorted. "History only remembers the victors." "I'd like to think history is a little more discerning than that." "You would, wouldn't you? Still, you played well." Gen flipped the play over in his hand. "Want another?" "Not fucking likely, if you're going to be a shit about it. I'm taking this off now," Therse replied, pulling the induction collar and visor off. The game board dissolved, leaving them back in the dull gray box. "Spoil sport," Gen told him, pulling off his visor too. "The universe isn't always fair, you know." Therse leaned in. "That doesn't mean you have to help unfairness into all the corners of the universe where its absence would otherwise be a merit, just so everything fits your jaded world view." Gen moved in a little more, smiling; so close Therse could almost feel his breath. He refused to yield. "You get so wordy when you're mad." "Fuck off," Therse told him with a flat shove to the chest, turning quickly and stalking away towards the exit. **** They'd gone their separate ways to shower and cool off— their chosen quarters were on the same level but quite far 37

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apart, having decided it was probably pointless them living side-by-side on an empty ship. And this way they gave each other space. It was part of their system for when one of them inevitably pissed the other off. There would be a reasonable amount of time allotted for sulking, then everything had to be forgotten. Therse liked that they had such an easy relationship despite being such fundamentally different people. He waved his way through the door to Gen's quarters, thinking maybe it was time to tell Gen about the letter he'd been avoiding talking about all day. "Hey Gen, I...what are you wearing that for?" Gen was standing in front of his bedroom mirror-screen, dressed head-to-toe in full Navy regalia save for his cap, which still lay on the bed beside him. He turned side-on and straightened his shoulders, jutting out his chin and pushing his hair away. Therse felt under-dressed next to the figure in beautiful deep-blue. "I haven't worn this since we graduated. How come we never get to go on any parades? All the others from the academy do." "Because the places we've been posted, no one cares about parades," Therse replied, leaning back against the wall of Gen's decidedly messy quarters. "You should take that off, you'll only ruin it." "What are you, my mother?" Gen said, but started to remove his clothes all the same. Fancy gold-rimmed buttons were popped neatly through stiff uniform button holes by pristine white gloved hands. He shrugged the jacket off. The 38

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shirt beneath it lay perfectly over his broad shoulders, somehow still crisp and white despite their travels. Therse realized he was staring, and corrected himself. "Won't be long 'til we see them all again, and you can complain to their faces then." He remembered their friends with a fond smile. They'd almost been a small command unit in their own right at the academy—Mal, their leader, a strongwilled and charismatic woman on whom they'd all depended, and Byrn, her responsible second-in-command, had kept the rest of them united despite everyone having such broad interests. If it hadn't been for Mal, Therse would never have known any of them, especially Gen. "Yeah," Gen smiled. "It'll be good to see them; it's been too long. You think they'll have changed much?" He was halfway down the buttons of his shirt. His warm, fair skin showed through where the shirt had begun to part. "Hard to say. It's not really been long enough, so I guess probably not." "I'd laugh my ass off if we come back and find Mal's turned into some wrinkled old prune." "That's not how physics works, but even so she'd still be able to punch your face straight off your skull." "No doubt. Mal was the only one at the academy I was actually afraid of." Therse snorted a laugh. "Same here." Gen pulled his shirt off at the cuffs, folding it in an odd display of affection. He placed it on the bed on top of his jacket and smoothed the folds out, brow furrowing slightly. 39

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Therse had an inkling as to what was on his mind. It was a while since Gen had been back home. Back to Earth. "How's your mom?" Therse asked. Gen looked up at him as though his train of thought had been interrupted but not necessarily derailed. He made a sort of sideways nod and rubbed at the place where his shoulder met his neck. A self-comforting gesture. A gesture Therse had seen many times before. "Fine, fine. She's a bit...you know...since Dad..." He broke off and looked at his uniform again, frowning. The son of a soldier. The son of a proud father. "You going to holo-call her when we get on leave? Spend some time with her?" Therse said, changing the subject slightly. "I dunno, haven't really decided yet." "You should talk to her. You know she misses you." Therse only realized the hypocrisy of his lecturing Gen on talking to people about Important Things once the words had escaped his mouth. He bit his tongue. "I know," Gen sighed. "What are you going to do instead, drink and whore all your credit away on Gogh?" Gen squinted at him. "Don't imply that I can't pick up women. I've never failed once." Therse folded his arms. "Oh that is such a lie." "Like hell it is! I'm telling you —" "What about that girl in that dive-bar you practically wanted to marry? She ran you 40

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around all evening and went home with some shirtless neckbeard." "Hey that was a one-off; there's no accounting for some people's taste," Gen said, starting to unbutton his trousers. "Do you really want me to stand here and list your failings?" Therse said. "Because I will." "Fuck off. You've been keeping count?" "Of course," Therse nodded, sagely. "It's my job as your future best-man." "Oh, I like how you've decided. Who says I wouldn't pick Byrn?" "Because Byrn would look ridiculous standing next to you at the altar in uniform. Like a huge bear-man." "You missed the wedding, remember? I've never seen you in that situation, how can I compare?" He stood up straight, looking wistful. "Hey, you know I just realized something." "What?" "You're standing there ribbing me for my failures, but I don't remember you getting lucky ever." "The fuck are you talking about? There's loads of times I've —" "Name one." "I don't know, uh —" "One. Even when we were on that double date and that dumb girl got drunk enough on neon cocktails to think it would be a good idea to stick her hand down your pants at the dinner table, you still managed to come away emptyhanded." 41

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"Because she was ugly as hell. Perhaps the difference between you and me is standards." Therse found himself with a face full of Gen's fatigue shirt. It smelled of him. "Man, gross you've been wearing that." He flung it back. Gen grinned at him, and dumped the shirt on the bed beside his uniform. He unbuckled his trousers and began to pull them down. Therse caught a glimpse of the crest of Gen's buttocks before he forced himself to turn away. He watched the screen news for a minute while Gen dressed again. "You seen the news about Carbera?" Gen asked him. "Yeah," he said after a while. "Navy fleets are arriving there already—most of the really nasty shit is going to happen now." He turned back to look at Gen, who was now thankfully re-dressed. "Anyone arriving late to the party is going to get tasked with clean-up duty." "Us, you mean?" Gen clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, heading for the door. Therse wanted to tell Gen the truth about his reassignment—the truth that meant from the moment they landed at Gogh Planetary Hub, he and Gen wouldn't be serving together any more. That from then on, he'd be leaving Gen behind. But it was just too difficult. "...Right," he said, swallowing it all back down again. On the way out of Gen's quarters, Therse remembered something he'd been meaning to ask. "So where's this biohab anyway? You haven't shown me yet." "No, I haven't, have I?" Gen replied, smirking and backing away. 42

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Therse raised an eyebrow at him, then realized what he was planning. "Don't you fucking dare." Gen skipped backwards a little. "If you want to see it, you're going to have to keep up." He turned and ran for the transporter module, about a hundred meters down the corridor. "Fucking bastard, there's no way you'll lose me!" Therse yelled after him, feeling the grin he'd had earlier in the games sim return. As they pelted down the empty hall, Therse had the uneasy realization that Gen was promptly pulling away from him and accelerating. When he reached the module, slamming the button to call it with a victorious fist, Therse was still at least twenty-five meters away. Gen waved at him and disappeared into the wall. Therse forced his legs to go faster against their ample protest, not wanting to miss his ride. As he rounded on the module, the doors were already shutting. From inside he heard a distant "See ya." He slipped in just in time, catching his elbow on one of the doors as he flew through and slamming straight into Gen on the other side, pinning him to the wall of the transport. Their faces close, bodies up against one-another. The vague understanding he was between Gen's thighs in an awkward orientation. The vague realization they were groin-to-groin and exchanging heat. He shoved off the wall quickly as though it had never happened at all and rubbed at his bashed elbow. "Damn it," he said, not entirely to the pain shooting through his arm. 43

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"How the fuck are you so slow after all that training?" "I run long distance, idiot. Of course you could still beat me on a surprise sprint." "Of course," Gen repeated, in that goading tone. Therse ignored him. "And you should really be able to tell the difference between closed and open doors by now." "Shut up." But Gen was too busy staring out over Therse's shoulder. Therse noticed the difference in heat as warmth and thick, humid air washed into the module. "We're here," Gen said, shoving past. It was like no habitat Therse had ever seen before. It was vast, extending up and out further than he could see in the haze of humidity. He reckoned it must be at least a kilometer tall, and if what Gen had said before was to be taken on face value, it took up three entire floors. Therse stood on the threshold and peered out. A jungle. A dense, overgrown jungle in the middle of a space ship. There was a path of sorts that led from the transporter module out into the thick of it, apparently made of real dirt. Come to think of it, the whole floor might be built on dirt. He frowned. This certainly made the ship an impressive type of hypocrite if it wouldn't allow even a little steam in his bathroom but would happily cultivate an entire environment of seventy-five percent (and up) humidity. The trees seemed tall around him even here, safe in the module. Stepping out there would be like stepping into another world. A world the likes of which they were both somewhat familiar with. 44

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Gen turned back and looked at him, still standing hesitantly on the doorstep. Gen sighed and walked back along the path, stepping over wandering fern leaves, boots crunching in the coarse earth. "I had no idea it would be like this. It's just like—" Therse started. "Don't tell me you're thinking about that. Look, just come on," Gen told him, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him out of the safe little white cylinder. The doors closed silently behind him. "It's great, you'll see." He followed Gen, trying his best to disguise his nervousness. The eerie quiet, the heat, the dark, towering trees tangled with vines—it all felt uncomfortably familiar. "You okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine." "It's just a jungle, you pansy," Gen told him, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't land with much success. "Funny how I don't have any response like that at all," Gen said almost apologetically, rubbing at his neck again. "Well, maybe because I was unconscious a lot of the time, eh?" He thumped Therse on the chest. "Really though, it's like a garden in here. Just ahead it gets a bit more civilized." They walked down the path a little way, and the jungle opened out into a small clearing of perfectly flat ground backed by a polytunnel, both lush with various crops. A number of small machines hummed about, tending the garden, pruning and weeding and scanning the little plants with tiny precision instruments extending from their shells. 45

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Therse felt a little less claustrophobic here than out in the jungle. "You'd think this ship likes plants more than humans," he muttered, watching the miniature mechanized ballet. He wandered over to the edge of the clearing, bordered by a small projected field, the purpose of which he presumed was to stop unwanted species getting into the garden. There was a rather exotic-looking tree growing just outside the border, its thick, gnarled trunk a twisted deep yellow, surrounded by dense variegated purple foliage. It was fruiting—large red ovals the size of Therse's fist hung temptingly just out of reach. He looked over at his friend. Gen was chuckling to himself and fastidiously blocking the path of one of the little machines as it tried politely to move around him, eventually letting out an exasperated sound and whizzing up over his head. He moved on to annoy another one, busy in the polytunnel. Therse turned back to the tree, to that succulent-looking fruit. He wondered what the flesh might be like under that dimpled skin, mouth watering as he reached for it, stretching on tip-toes and almost there— Gen grabbed his hand away. "I asked the ship when I was here before; they look really good but they aren't edible. The trees produce copious amounts of oxygen, which is why they're included in the habitat. Just don't eat anything that comes off them, because you'll get the shits." "Right, thanks." Therse said, smiling awkwardly. Gen grinned at him as though he'd suddenly thought of something good. "When was the 46

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last time you ate a strawberry?" "There are strawberries here?" "And blackberries and blueberries...come take a look. They're just ripening, by the looks of it." Therse followed him into the polytunnel, an expansive covered set-up where plants grew in floor-containers or raised trays. It was all incredibly neat and well-ordered. There was a whole row of raised trays containing strawberry plants, laden with large, plump red fruits. Gen plucked one and tossed it to him. It was a little green at the top, but still looked so damn good. He bit into it and made a face like he was having a religious experience. "It would be such a crime if all of these went to waste," he chewed. Gen put on a serious expression and nodded, shoving yet another one into his mouth. Therse grabbed a few up, followed by a few more, and went to have a closer look at the vegetables growing outside the polytunnel. Cabbages and lettuce he could easily identify, and some other things that were probably potatoes and carrots. He squatted down, strawberries cradled in one hand, and started to dig away the earth to see what the crop was like. He could hear Gen behind him, still chewing away. And then it started to rain. "What the fuck!" he heard Gen exclaim through a mouthful. "It's raining inside a ship?!" "It must be the sprinkler system!" Therse shouted above the din of the increasing deluge. The polytunnel wouldn't offer any refuge—its sprinklers were on too. They had no choice but to run for it. 47

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Therse pelted out of the clearing and along the path back to the transport chute, Gen close behind him. It opened immediately and they rushed inside, laughing and soaked to the skin. "Third, sector twelve," Therse told it. Gen looked down at himself, holding out his arms. His hair was plastered to his face. "Well, that was unexpected." Therse wrung his shirt out, watching the water pool in the transport module. Let the ship worry about that after turning the sprinklers on them. "No kidding," And then Gen's arm was around Therse, pulling him in close, holding him. "See? Having fun isn't such a bad thing," Gen said, heat slung over Therse's shoulders, lips so near to Therse's cheek he could feel the words on his skin. "I guess so," Therse said, allowing himself to return Gen's friendly embrace momentarily, feeling the stiff, lithe muscle barely covered by the wet fabric of Gen's shirt. He wanted so badly to press in tighter. Gen pulled away smiling as the transport arrived at their floor, apparently thinking nothing of it. **** After returning to their respective quarters and drying off, they met up again in one of the ship's officers' lounges. It was a small room with softer lighting than the rest of the vessel and furnished with items that made Therse feel comfortable just by looking at them. He and Gen were sitting cross-legged opposite one another at a long, heavy-looking black coffee table perched on a 48

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massive white deep-pile rug. It was so big that Therse could probably lie back and stretch his hands out and still not be able to find the edge of it. Its luxury made a nice change to the minimalism of everywhere else. He turned to look over his shoulder out of the two massive windows behind him, stretching from floor to ceiling. Except that they weren't really windows. None of the 'windows' on the ship were actual transparent portals looking out into space. Instead they were screens displaying a representation of whatever was outside the ship from that particular view. So for all intents and purposes, you got the same end result, but it wasn't quite...the same. Therse liked to imagine that they could be whizzing through a nebula, great towering pistons of dust surrounding them, birthing stars every direction you cared to look in, but the ship was keeping all the fun to itself and showing them a repeated recording of black nothingness for its own entertainment. Of course, to imagine the ship was conspiring to exclude them meant imagining the ship cared enough about them in the first place to do something so resentful, and he was pretty sure it didn't. He watched the unending dark sail past them with a protracted sigh. Something touched his knee and he looked down to find Gen's legs spread either side of him, the toes of his socked feet wriggling. "Excuse me," Therse complained, flatly. "What?" 49

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"Fine. It's your own damn fault if I should accidentally crush your balls." Therse pretended uncrossing his legs to do just that. "And spend the rest of your life apologizing to all the poor unfortunate women disappointed that they don't get to bear my children?" Therse snorted a laugh and took a sip of his drink. "You're insufferable." "Do we have to play this?" Gen whined, and Therse noticed he still hadn't made a move on the chess board. "You wanted me to relax, remember?" Gen scratched his face, rough blond stubble starting to show through. "I meant like we were in the sim, not like this. This is dull." "What, too cerebral for you? Can't cope if you have to use tactics rather than your instincts?" "Are you still sore that I beat you earlier?" "Just make a move already." Therse glowered at him. Gen made his move, and Therse took his rook. "You're really bad at this." Therse smirked up at Gen, his smile fading when he noticed the look on the other man's face. "Oh, am I?" Gen had positioned himself to make an attack, and Therse saw that he'd been drawn into a trap by feint. A clever move, he had to admit. Gen still had the capacity to surprise him. He straightened up, realizing he'd underestimated his adversary. The game went much faster after that, each watching the swift moves of the other as their hands flew back and forth over the board. Gen was far, far better at this than he'd been 50

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making out, and Therse was a little annoyed with himself that he'd fallen for it. They were getting down to it now, only a few pieces left on the board each, and he knew he'd have to start thinking aggressively in order to win. Then he saw it: a hole in Gen's attack strategy. He doublechecked to make sure he wasn't falling for another feint. "Checkmate!" he announced, a little too enthusiastically. Gen was regarding him with a lop-sided smile. "You're weird." "So people keep telling me. Another?" "Sure." They each grabbed up their color and started to set the board out again. "Heard anything from Iss and Tennar recently?" Therse asked while they both placed their pieces. "The newlyweds. You're kidding, right? Expect to hear from them when they have a house full of babies in a suburban district." "Ugh." "I know, sickening, isn't it?" "I meant to ask, how was the wedding?" "Shame you couldn't be there." "Not much I could do about it. Sucks to have been the only one from the academy not there, though. Your move first this time." "It was great," Gen said, moving a pawn. "Simple affair, just a couple of family and friends and the registrar. Pretty 51

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much everyone there was Navy though, it was funny. Like a mini-parade." He paused. "They missed you there." Therse moved his own pawn and looked up at Gen. "You know if I could have been there, I would've." Gen held up his hands. "Eh, doesn't bother me, meant I got free reign of the assorted ladies." "Which means you spent the night harassing young women who were still old enough to know better with your unwanted attentions, right?" "Something like that, yeah," Gen grinned. "You had a good time then?" "Oh, you know it. There was this one brunette, legs up to her chin and chest out here...turned out she was Tennar's sister so I kept my hands off, but a guy can look, eh?" Gen made his move, letting his bishop free. "But I don't know, it sort of felt like the night was missing something." He was looking right at Therse. Therse studied his pieces, trying to think of something to say. "Did Vice and Byrn finally, eh..." Gen snorted and leant back on his palms, feet still either side of Therse. "That fucking relationship slow-cooker— everyone knows they kissed at graduation; I don't know why they don't just do it already." "Well, not everyone likes to go hell-for-leather at things the way you do. That's fine when all you want is a fuck, but if you want something more than that it's difficult to make the leap sometimes." "I wouldn't know," Gen replied, oblivious. 52

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"And then there's knowing you'll be apart on different details for so much of the time—she's intelligence, he's engineering, there's no way they'll get put on the same posting. So maybe they just think it's best to leave it as it is." "They both like each other though, right? If that's true, it shouldn't matter where they are." "It gets complicated though. I imagine." "Well I know we've been lucky that we've always been posted together, but the rest haven't, and we're still all in close contact. And I bet it'll still be just the same when we meet up at Gogh, even though it's been over two years." "I can't even remember the last time we were all together." Gen pursed his lips. "A reception to celebrate Mal's brother's engagement, if I recall correctly." "Oh! That's right, the one with all the punch." "Yes," Gen grimaced, tipping his head back. "The one with all the punch." "I'd never fished anyone out of a fountain before; that was a unique experience." "Shut up. It's not my fault her parents are stupid-rich." "No, but it was your fault that you drank too much, ingratiated yourself with the new bride-to-be, and vomited all over their shrubbery of prize argonias." Gen groaned. "Oh god, why the hell do you always remember this shit?" "Why do you think I always stay within the realms of sobriety when I'm around you? It's because you need a minder to stop you doing the really stupid stuff. Well, I lie. 53

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It's partly that and partly because it means I get to store these things for posterity." He tapped the side of his head and smirked. Gen looked less than impressed. "One day the tables will be turned, you'll see." Therse wasn't convinced. "So have you decided what you're going to do when we're in port?" he asked. "I'm going to head to the shopping district first thing, buy some stuff that doesn't have 'property of UGA Navy' printed on it. And then I'm going to eat some proper fucking food and find the woman of my dreams for nights of unbridled passion before we head out to Carbera." "And call your mom." "And call my mom..." Gen smirked and shook his head. "I can't wait to get out there though, it's going to be great. Gravity of the situation aside, obviously." He wafted a hand in front of his face. "For the first time in ages, we'll actually have proper missions." Therse picked up a piece to move it, then put it back down again. "I don't think that's the object of the game." He paused, looking across at Gen. "I need to tell you something." "Conceding already?" But Therse wasn't in the mood for joking anymore. He fished his pocket-screen out and opened it, fingertips flicking over the display. He passed it to Gen. "I've been offered a position in Command," he said, trying to keep his tone as 54

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neutral as possible. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it himself. He watched Gen's expression carefully as his words sank in; as the words in the letter hit home. "Congratulations!" Gen told him, but his smile was a little forced. "That's what you've always wanted, right? That's great!" He looked down at the screen again. "When did you find out?" "The letter came through this morning." "Great!" He nodded, offering Therse a tight-lipped smile and handing the little screen back. "I didn't even know you'd put in..." "Yeah, I didn't tell anybody, sorry. I didn't think my application would come to anything, so I didn't want to announce it if I was just going to end up getting refused anyway." Gen shrugged. "It's worked out nicely, really. You can step up after Carbera —" "Gen," Therse interrupted, "if I accept this, I won't be able to go to Carbera. I'll have my week of leave, and then I'll be off. I won't be going with you. It's Navy Central Command— I'll need to travel all the way back to Earth-Lunar Orbital." He pushed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I don't know when I'll get to see any of you again." Gen just looked at him. "So you've accepted?" "Not yet, no." Gen's expression seemed to soften. "Then what the hell are you waiting for?" Therse was about to make a stab at an answer that wouldn't have betrayed his feelings when the lights flickered 55

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and then went out altogether, plunging them into absolute darkness. An odd noise, like a curtailed screech, sounded over the intercom. A second later, the lights came back on. They were both looking upwards, as though that would reveal the mystery. "What was that?" Therse wondered out loud. "Dunno." "Ship?" he ventured. "Apologies," it said. The ship's voice seemed...different, somehow. He was probably just imagining things. "I was rebooting power in a number of sectors. Should have warned you first...there should be no further interruptions." The apparent courtesy in its speech pattern certainly sounded off. Unless it had been rebooting some politeness subroutines. "Maybe we should go and see what that was," Gen said. Aside from the obvious problem of how and why, exactly, they should investigate something the ship was already aware of, Therse saw an opportunity. "Running away from defeat?" "Fuck you," Gen said, focus renewed. **** The next day, and after two weeks of running around the same route since they'd first boarded, Therse decided he needed a bit of a change in scenery and had started his jog on one of the lower floors instead, hoping it might be invigoratingly different. It wasn't. Even the cleaning drone looked the same. He had hoped a shift in routine might break him free of a couple of things, but it was obviously too much to ask for. 56

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The dreams were still coming; he'd woken up sweating and tangled in the sheets again that morning, stuck through with that deep guilt he wished so hard he could forget. He wanted to swallow it down, to push it back under and never think about it again, but things weren't that simple. He couldn't understand why it was haunting him now, after nearly four years had passed. He thought about Gen, about the shadow of disappointment that had registered on his face when he'd learned about the Command post, and how quickly he'd managed to hide it away. Therse hated the fact he knew Gen wanted him to stay. Of course he did; they'd been best friends for over three years and been posted together ever since they left military school. It just made it so much harder to leave Gen behind. At least he seemed to have taken it pretty well. Therse thought of his best friend's face again—those strong boyish features and brown eyes framed by soft, midlength blond hair. What are you waiting for? What indeed... Something caught his attention and pulled him out of his depressed reverie. There was a cup sitting on the windowsill just up ahead. That wasn't unusual in itself. What was unusual was that it was on a level neither he nor, to his knowledge, Gen ever used. And even if Gen had taken a wander, it was unlike him to leave a cup behind rather than tidy it away. He frowned, 57

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making a mental note of its location so he could nag Gen later. His footsteps slowed to a trot and then stilled altogether. His mouth hung slack as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The cold silver of fear and adrenaline coursed through him. Out of the window, a couple of floors up and a little way along the dull gray hull, a smaller, dark vessel was stuck knife-like into the flank of the ship. He'd never seen anything like it before: long and pure black, all angles and threat. It certainly wasn't Navy, and it certainly hadn't been there before. There's someone else here. "Ship, how many people are onboard?" he asked, staring out of the window. "Counting two persons," the ship replied. "One: Therse Bodan, Navy Lieutenant. Two: Genham Drisjic, Navy Lieutenant." "That can't be true. There's another ship docked to one of your ports!" "Ah, you caught me, that was a lie. Sorry." Something was definitely wrong with the ship. In all his limited conversations with it it had been rude, evasive, and disinterested, but it had never actually outright lied to him before. "What are you talking about?" It was almost as though he was talking to a different AI altogether. **** 58

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"Who the fuck are you?" Gen shouted, reaching instinctively for his bootknife. It wasn't there. It was back in his quarters where he'd left it, under a bunch of other things. "Oh, looks like you've been relaxing a bit too much here," the man said, hands clasped behind his back. Gen knew he was someone not to be trusted, regardless of the fact he'd just appeared out of nowhere. Gen did the only other thing he could think of and raised his fists. The man just laughed. Gen took the opportunity to make first strike and launched at him, arm raised and ready to deliver one of the hard punches he was so well-known for in bar brawls. The man was fast, moving only at the last second as Gen's fist met with empty air. He felt himself caught and twisted, rammed face-first against the wall with his arm behind him at an awkward angle. He tried to brute-strength out of it, but the man's hold on him was impressively tight. He protested as his arm was moved another painful fraction of a degree. The comms unit in the wall in front of his face lit up. Someone was dialing through. Therse. "What's that?" the man said. At first Gen thought he was being spoken to and was about to respond with something abrasively vitriolic, but the ship got there first. "That's the other one. He's figured it out too. Shall I connect it?" "Eh, sure, why not." "What the hell," Gen strained, the man's grip on him still unrelenting. 59

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Therse's face came up on the screen. "Gen! Gen, I think there's someone else..." he trailed off. "On the ship?" the man finished for him. "Yes, I think he already knows," he said, releasing Gen to rub furiously at his almost-broken arm. At least, it felt that way. "Nice to meet you both. I'll be staying with you for a little while." [Back to Table of Contents]

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3: UNINVITED GUESTS Meitou seated himself calmly into one of the mess hall chairs, ankle of one boot resting over the knee of his other leg, fingers of both hands interlocked in his lap, and waited for them to begin their questions. The blond one was pacing, looking like he was trying to decide where to begin. Almost territorial, Meitou noted. His own ship, the Imperial Heavy-class Interceptor Weapons Grade, had given him a short briefing of what to expect aboard the Terminal Regret. He'd been surprised (and rather disappointed) to learn that such a huge stellar cruiser only had two passengers on board. There wasn't even so much as a captain. But two men was better than no men at all. Meitou was trying to remember the fidgeting man's name from the files he'd glanced at before losing interest and deciding to go see for himself. Something beginning with a harsh 'G'. Gorin? Gangor? No, something that was smoother on the tongue. Gimran? Not it either...He wished he'd paid the ship's briefing more attention now. The blond glared at him firmly and it came to him at last. Genham Meitou watched Genham a little longer, getting a measure of him. His presence was an incursion that challenged Genham's status, even aboard an empty ship carrying no women. Meitou studied him carefully, scrutinizing his every move, reading his give-away micro-expressions. Genham was a firecracker; an immature, impatient and insecure alpha male prone to impulse. None-too-interesting, from Meitou's 61

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point of view. Not many points of intrigue. Too easy to read, too easy to toy with. Not that it wouldn't be fun to toy with him, admittedly. It looked like Genham had finally chosen his starting point. "So how about you begin by telling us who you are and what you're doing here." "Is your arm okay?" Meitou asked, faking concern. "It's fine!" He lowered his voice to a deeper baritone, leaning his head to the side. "You seem to be rubbing at it still is all. Sorry if I hurt you." "You didn't! Answer the question." Too easy. Just too easy. He smiled thinly and said nothing. Genham was already aggravated and Meitou was barely even having to do anything. "You can't expect to just sidle aboard and stick around when we don't even know anything about you, where you've come from, what you're doing here..." Again, Meitou said nothing. "Fine, don't tell us anything. We'll just have the ship kick you off —" "The ship?" he interrupted, smiling inwardly that his interruption was instantly accepted. "You mean you haven't noticed the change in AI?" Genham scowled back at him, doing his best not to nurse his arm but keeping it still by his side. "That AI is your ship?" This time it was the other one who responded. 62

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Meitou suddenly found himself wondering why he'd been wasting so much attention on Genham. On screen the second man had seemed flat and uninteresting, but in the flesh it was a different matter entirely. The name wasn't a problem to recall this time. Therse Bodan. Therse was tall, like Genham, and obviously toned even beneath his Navy fatigues. He was handsome to the point Meitou actually had to stop himself from looking him over. "Yes," Meitou replied, allowing himself a small smile. Therse's brown eyes flicked away then back, perhaps the hint of a blush forming on his cheeks, if that wasn't too much wishful thinking. "The hell! You can't do that —" Therse held out a hand and Genham silenced himself. "What's happened to ours?" Therse asked. "It's fine, still there, just...sidelined...for now." "'Sidelined'?" "That's right." "So that's what the power outage was," Therse muttered to Genham. "When will it be brought back online?" "When my ship no longer requires control of your vessel." "And why exactly does it need control of our vessel?" This was good, he decided. Better than expected. Therse was coolheaded, thoughtful and deliberate; a tactician. Exactly the kind of man it was fun to see lose control. Exactly the kind of man Meitou liked to make lose control. He smiled and said nothing. There was definitely a blush there, he was sure of it. 63

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"What the hell are you?" Genham asked, straightening, broadening his chest and shoulders. "I've never seen that kind of uniform before." "Meitou." Genham looked shocked to have received a straight answer, even if it was to a previous question. "Surname?" "Not something you need to know." "Rank?" Genham spat, apparently determined to continue his winning streak and establish his superiority. "Un-ranked," he told them. They both just looked at him. "What does that mean?" "It means I haven't earned a rank yet. I am part of the general rabble. A trainee, I guess. We have no title." "Wait—if you're un-ranked—and in black uniform—are you Imperial?" Yes, Therse looked very promising indeed. "Imperial?" Genham repeated, trying his best not to appear intimidated after learning that the man he was interrogating was part of an elite specialist force. His best wasn't nearly good enough to fool Meitou. "Don't look so worried, I'm perfectly harmless," Meitou lied. "Who said I needed reassuring?" "Some things you don't have to say out loud." Meitou found that his voice irritated Genham most when it was rich and honeyed. Genham seemed to fight it as much as he was able, at least figuring out that Meitou was playing him like a fiddle. "So if we're both Lieutenants, that makes us your superior officers," Genham said. 64

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Meitou allowed himself to show his amusement. "Navy and Imperial ranks are hardly equivalent. Didn't you figure that out from our little altercation in the corridor? Or did I misunderstand your Navy 'welcoming' customs?" Genham ground his teeth, the muscles working in the sides of his face, but he pressed on, appearing to find his stride despite the probes and taunts. "How many more are on your ship?" "It's just me." "You're on your own?" "That's what 'just me' means, yes." He saw Therse stifle a giggle as Genham only grew more irate. Meitou was finding his buttons with increasing ease and regularity. It wouldn't be long before he tipped over. Therse saw this too and stepped in. "What are you doing here?" Meitou smiled back at him, fixing Therse's rich brown eyes again. He noticed Genham look at them both in turn. "I'm just stopping on the way to my next post. We decided we'd use your ship and hitch-hike for a bit, seeing as you're headed in the right direction for the most part." "'We?'" Genham snorted, folding his arms and wincing. "I thought you said it was just you." "I meant the ship." Meitou pointed upwards. "You decide things with your ship?" Genham said, looking over his shoulder at Therse as though he was expected to share in the ridicule. He just stared back at Genham blankly. "Yes," Meitou replied, dead-pan. Genham didn't quite know what to do with himself. 65

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And then Therse came out with a question he honestly wasn't expecting; a question that, in Meitou's mind, sealed the man's fate. "Why are we going faster?" He was impressed, but he didn't let it show. "My ship has made some modifications to the engines of this vessel, so they can run at greater capacity. You should now arrive at your destination at least a week sooner." "And I take it you'll be with us for most of that time?" He couldn't see any reason to withhold information they'd come to find out anyway. "It's possible." He smirked, and added, "Though I make no promises." An interesting mixture of things passed across Therse's face. Things that would need to be teased out, one by one. Genham, though, had had enough. "This is bullshit," he muttered to Therse and turned to leave. "Gen," Therse said, trying to catch him by the arm as he went, but it was yanked away. A very intimate gesture, Meitou thought. That left just the two of them. Therse looked awkward for a second or two, then peered back at him. "Sorry about him." He nodded his head in the direction Genham had taken. "Therse Bodan, Navy Lieutenant." They shook hands. Therse had a good, strong grip. "Shall I show you around?" **** Meitou was one of those men gifted with a certain presence, Therse decided. The type who could command the attention of a room full of people when he walked in. The type 66

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of man you'd accept even the worst of orders from with a grateful smile. The type of man you could never forget. He reminded Therse of Gen somehow, though the similarity was only fleeting before he dismissed it. Meitou was slightly taller, slightly broader, certainly more mature, and with an air of intrigue that spoke of plentiful experience doing interesting things. The Imperial was calm on the surface, like a mill pond. Composed and controlled and entirely selfassured. It made Therse wonder if the surface was hiding turbulent currents underneath. Currents that might pull you in and suck you down if you weren't careful. Then he realized why the similarity was bothering him: Meitou was almost Gen as Therse pictured him in about five years' time. Therse stole another glance over at Meitou as the man gazed out of the corridor windows into empty space. Meitou's uniform was matte-black from head to toe, made of sharp, deliberate angles, just like his ship, and trimmed around the collar and lapels with flecks of gold braiding. Therse would have thought they'd reserve that kind of embellishment for commanders rather than waste it on 'un-ranked' soldiers, but who was he to judge. He knew next to nothing about that wing of the military outside of their suspect recruit selection methods, secrecy, and occasional use of brutal military force. His mind extrapolated the amount of gold on Meitou's jacket to what their highest commanders must wear when in full regalia, and conjured up images of gilt admirals blinding 67

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entire fleets with their uniformed magnificence. Gen would have liked that one. But Gen wasn't here. Therse couldn't stop staring. Meitou was stupidly, ridiculously attractive; fair skin and scraped-back blond hair, piercing blue eyes set in features best described by the cliche 'chiseled'. A hint of stubble grew around the two tiny shadows of scar tissue along his jaw. Just enough rough to make him seriously intriguing. Just being near him was making Therse's heart race. Their shoulders brushed, only lightly, so much as to be a near-miss, and it sent a blush streaming across Therse's cheeks. He hated how easily he embarrassed sometimes and turned away to hide it. Then he remembered himself, and realized neither of them had said anything for a fair few minutes, and he was supposed to be giving a tour. "There's not much more to it, I'm afraid," he offered, gesturing along the corridor. "And you say it used to be a warship?" "So it says. Not much sign of that now, though." "Mhm." Meitou caught Therse looking. "You want to ask me about being an Imperial." The man smiled at him, beautiful and perfect, fine lines appearing in his pale skin forged from the many times he'd done it before. Therse scratched at his neck. "Yeah," he said, reluctant now for some reason. "It's just that you weren't very forthcoming with information in the mess, so..." "Oh, I was just doing it to wind that guy up. What was his name..?" 68

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"Genham." "Ah, that's right. 'Gen', I noticed you called him." "Yeah, he only likes that from people who know him, though." "Noted." Meitou made a wry smile like he'd gained some sort of ammunition. "So, where are you from, anyway?" "Shirresh Orbital, originally," Meitou said, slipping his hands into his pockets. The most relaxed gesture Therse had seen him make yet. "Grew up there and went to military school in the Glier system after genetic selection —" "I've heard about that. Never knew if it was true or not. Haven't had a chance to ask before," Therse said eagerly, smiling. He realized he was flirting; overly-obvious and rusty as hell, much to his personal mortification. He shook the expression from his face and resolved to maintain a professional attitude. It was unlikely a man like that was eligible anyway, or would want anything to do with him. "It's odd that only people with a certain genetic make-up are allowed in, though." "Why? Makes perfect sense to me." Meitou's full lips settled into a semi-smile. "Athletes, intellectuals; all are more likely to carry certain forms of certain genes that predispose them to success in those pursuits. Logical to extend that to selecting for an advanced military force." "How do they know, though? I don't remember ever being tested." "There isn't any 'test'. Space Central Hub has a complete genetic record of all citizens. If you have what's needed for 69

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Imperial selection, they'll make contact at puberty. You get a choice whether to join or not, but who in their right mind would pass up an opportunity like that?" "So the rest of us are just the left over dregs who join the substandard military by choice, eh?" "Something like that." "Why separate the two forces, though? Why not have the Imperials be part of the Navy? Seeing as everyone's at the ultimate command of the Hub anyway." "The reason for that is...long and dull and political. Put simply, your Command and our Command don't get on very well. Inferiority complex on the part of your top brass, if you ask me. We just get on and do our jobs." "I'm sure you're not biased in any way." "Moi?" Meitou feigned offense. Therse laughed and tried very hard not to enjoy himself too much. "So, where are you and your friend headed?" "We're coming back from a years' outpost at Epsilon, headed to Gogh to rendezvous with some of our other friends from the Navy training corps, then redeploying to Carbera." Then he remembered. "Well, I might not be, but —" "Oh?" "I've had an offer to join Navy Central Command." Meitou studied him carefully, and he blushed again. "You look less than thrilled about it." "No, I'm really happy. It's what I've always wanted, so..." "Feeling guilty about leaving your crew-mate behind?" The man was impressively astute. "Something like that..." 70

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"You've known each other for a while then, you and Gen?" "Yeah. I've known him for about five years. Though we haven't always been on friendly terms." "How come?" "The reason for that is also long and dull." Therse laughed. "Let's just say we haven't always seen eye-to-eye." "You seem to get along well enough now though." Therse got the distinct feeling he was under scrutiny. "Yeah, I guess we do." He smiled, remembering the other day in the biohabitat. Remembering the feeling of Gen under his fingertips. "How about you, where are you headed?" Meitou grinned. "Couldn't possibly say." Therse smirked and shook his head. "But like I said, we're only hitching a lift. We're not going to be with you all the way to Gogh, it's just that... your ship's engines can run a little faster than mine...with the correct modifications." Therse narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah," he said, leaning in and speaking in a hushed voice. "What's with your ship?" "What do you mean?" Meitou said, puzzled. "It seems a bit...eccentric." Meitou just smiled at him. "All our ship AIs are like that. That's just how they're generated. Navy and Imperial AIs are a little different. The side effect of that engineering is that they're quite talkative." "So I see." "You get used to it. Though they can be a pain in the arse from time-to-time," Meitou announced loudly, as though to someone else who might have been listening in on their conversation. 71

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"Will you be staying on your own ship or staying here?" "Probably here, I don't see why not. May as well make a break of it while I've got the opportunity." Their shoulders brushed again as Therse came to a stop, only this time the contact was definite. Meitou looked at him. He looked away quickly, avoiding Meitou's gaze. Therse felt awkward all of a sudden. "Well, this is my stop," he said, pointing a thumb at the door. "If you have any more questions I'm sure the ship—your ship, will -" "Thanks," Meitou said, smiling. The sort of smile that answered some of the questions Therse really wanted to ask. He felt the blush spreading to his body. **** Gen shuffled sulkily up the corridor to Therse's quarters, replaying their conversation with the Imperial earlier. The guy was an elitist, obviously. Gen could tell that just from the way he carried himself, all airs and composure. And from that smart, sharp tongue. He was seriously annoyed at himself for getting so irritated so easily and for losing his usual cool. He couldn't quite tell what it was about Meitou that put him so badly out of joint, and he was still ruminating on it as he neared Therse's door. Perhaps it was the man's overwhelming arrogance, the way he'd showed up uninvited and made himself at home aboard their ship. The way he'd just taken over everything. Whatever it was, Gen was sure it would all be clearer after he'd talked it through with Therse. Most things were. 72

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He wafted a hand at the door console and the door slid open. They'd decided from the start of the voyage that locks were unnecessary, and he'd gotten used to just wandering in whenever he wanted. The first words of his sentence got only halfway out of his mouth before they shriveled and died on his tongue. For a moment, he was paralyzed by shock, unable to move, only capable of staring drop-jawed at the proceedings he'd disturbed. Then he regained his senses enough to turn back out into the corridor, managing a mumbled "Sorry, I didn't —" until the thread of that sentence too became lost in the churning mire of his mortified embarrassment. He did the only thing that made any sense at the time and ran off down the hall. Therse called out, but Gen pretended not to hear him. [Back to Table of Contents]

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4: CORRECT USAGE OF AFTERBURNERS The next time Gen saw Meitou was always going to feel far too soon. It was the morning after, in the mess hall. Meitou sidled over to where Gen was sitting, smooth and relaxed, as though he wasn't fazed by Gen's interruption the previous night in the slightest. Gen remembered them fucking again and blushed deeply. "Morning," Meitou said with a smile, approaching the coffee machine. Gen grunted in reply. It was all he felt like. "Coffee. Black." He heard the man say. The little machine did nothing. "Coffee. Black," Meitou repeated, with careful enunciation. "You have to..." Gen muttered, making a prodding gesture. Meitou stared at him. "This is manual? Wow, I had no idea we were riding something so antiquated." "What do you expect, this is a back-water route," Gen said into his palm. He tapped his foot against the table and took a sip of coffee. "It's good enough for Navy." Meitou smirked, sipping at the brown liquid. He spat it out into the vacuum port and poured the rest of the cup away along with it. "Christ, that tastes like shit." Gen had to concede he was right, in that respect. He inspected his own cup, then noticed Meitou was leaning back against the side, looking at him. Scrutinizing him in the same way a clever officer might. 74

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"What?" he said, feeling himself straighten for some reason. "Are you mad?" "About what?" "Exactly my point." A few moments of silence passed, where they simply stared at one another as Gen grew steadily more annoyed. Eventually he looked away. "He's out for a run, by the way. But you probably already knew that, right? He said he does it every morning." "Mm." "Know each other well, then?" "Sure. Five years." Gen wasn't sure why, but he was speaking as deep and gravelly as possible. Meitou pursed his lips and nodded. "Wow, that's quite a while. You can get to know quite a lot about a person in that time. You didn't know he was gay though, did you?" Gen rubbed at the back of his neck. "With a reaction like yesterday's, I didn't think so. I can't believe he never told you." Light laughter that made Gen want to crush the cup in his hand. "Even more surprising you never figured it out on your own. I mean, I've barely been on the ship five minutes and I've already figured it out. So to speak." "That's different." "I don't see how." Meitou's voice was rich and arrogant like it had been just the day before, when Gen had lost his cool. "Well, I haven't tried fucking him before, and I've certainly never asked, so how —" 75

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"'Before'?" "Don't twist my words!" "I'm not doing anything. They're your words, Genham." Gen stood up and tipped the rest of his coffee away. "Are you jealous?" Meitou asked him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he shot back. The man just laughed. Once, softly. He unfolded his arms and straightened up, waving a hand at Gen and smiling. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Some bad habits I just tend to slip back into. You're just simmering so close to the surface it's difficult not to want to make you boil over. You probably don't even know it...haha, there I go again, just ignore me. Oh, and you might want to be more careful which doors you barge through in future. You never know where they might lead," he said with a farewell wink, and walked off humming. Gen just stood there and stared after him. **** Gen was still in the mess, staring out of the window at nothing in particular, when Therse arrived later. "Hi," Therse said, meeting his gaze guiltily. Gen didn't respond, didn't shift position from his spot by the window as Therse fetched himself a drink. He sat down near where Gen was standing and placed his mug on the table, leaning his mouth against his knuckles and making a noise like a sigh as Gen sat down opposite him. Therse looked like he was trying to find the right place to begin. Gen made it easier for him. "Are you gay?" 76

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Therse just looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "When were you going to tell me?" A guilty look. "Now?" Gen glared back at him. Therse adjusted his position and leaned back in his chair, still gripping the mug with both hands on the table. "I don't know. There was never a right time." "I think any time before now would have been the right time." Gen stood up and made to leave. "What did you want me to do? What should I have said? Oh, here's those schematics you wanted to look over, and by the way, I like to fuck men?" "That would have been better than me finding you ballsdeep in some guy's ass. A guy who, by the way, we don't even know." "Oh, who the hell are you, my mother? I bet if he'd been a woman you wouldn't have given two shits. Hell, you'd probably have been jealous I was the one getting laid." "How long have you known?" Confusion flickered over Therse's face. "What?" "Hey, I figure we might as well get it all out in the open now, while you're in the mood for sharing. How long have you known you were gay?" "I don't know, a long time." "Before I knew you?" "Yes." "Before you enlisted?" "Yes! Look —" 77

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"Do the others know?" Therse looked away. Gen pressed him. "Do they know?" "Look, I don't know! I think Mal probably suspects, but I haven't told anyone else, if that's what you're asking." "All this fucking time and you never said anything. To any of us." Therse looked away and rubbed his fingers over his mouth. Then he glanced back. "Are you actually mad at me?" "Yes, I'm fucking mad at you." "Why the fuck does it even matter?" "This is a huge thing, and you never told me. Every fucking time we were out together and I tried to get you hooked up with some girl, every double date I took you on, every woman I pointed out to you, this whole time it was all fucking pointless and you knew but said nothing. At any point you could have turned around and said, 'actually I'm gay'. Any time. I just don't fucking get why you never said anything." "Look, there was...there was just never the right time —" "Yeah, you said that already." Therse rubbed his forehead. A thought occurred to Gen. "Wait. Did you think that I'd react to it or something? Did you think I'd take it badly?" "No! It was nothing like that." "Fuck you. If you'd think that for even a moment, then fuck you." Therse stood, his expression darkening. "It wasn't that at all."

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"Then what?" Gen yelled, holding his arms out wide. "What stopped you telling me for four fucking years if it wasn't that?" "What the fuck difference does it make anyway?" Therse shouted back. "So I like to screw men! So what? So fucking what?" The words bounced off Gen's back as he stormed out of the mess. **** He was still astonished by Gen's reaction. Of all the ways to take it, Therse had never imagined he'd be pissed. Sure, he didn't find out in the best way, but Therse was more mortified about it than he imagined Gen could ever be. Therse had lost track of how long he'd been wandering around the corridors of the ship, trying to get his head around what to do next. He felt like he should apologize for not telling Gen sooner, but it would be difficult to explain why exactly he'd held out for so long. And anyway, he was damned if he would be the one to apologize first after Gen's idiotic overreaction. And it was an overreaction. He was only secretly gay, not secretly planning to commit genocide. He looked up and noticed Meitou coming towards him. Seeing him again made Therse's stomach do somersaults. "Hey." "You look troubled." Meitou's lips pulled up at one corner as Therse watched them. "Yeah, well," 79

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"Lovers' tiff?" "...No...He just didn't take it too well that I've been lying to him for years." "Lying?" "Technically, I guess, I never made it clear..." "Why lie about it?" "I don't know..." he shrugged. "Look, it really has nothing to do with you," "Right, right." Meitou waved a hand. "Just give him some time to cool off." "I think it's going to take a little more than that. There was yelling on both parts." "He'll come around. You're his closest friend, right? He's got no choice. Wounds like this always seem deeper when they're fresh." Meitou's hand rested on Therse's shoulder. "Once you've let the dust settle, things won't seem so bad." Therse could feel the intensity of Meitou's gaze. The effects of that look went straight to his groin. He sloped his shoulder so Meitou's hand slipped off. "He's right you know. I don't know anything about you." Meitou's gaze was cool, determined. "All you need to know you already do." "I've never fucked a guy without even knowing his name before." "You know my name." "Your full name. Or anything else about you." "Why, need something more to shout out next time?" Therse raised an eyebrow. "'Next time'?" 80

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Meitou just smiled at him, a self-assured, intoxicating sideways grin that set something alight in Therse's gut. He felt himself beginning to give in already, before a proposal had even been made. Meitou stepped closer. Therse decided to put a stop to it before it started. Doing it the first time had really been bad enough. He put his hands out as Meitou was leaning in, his palms meeting the soft material covering the man's chest. He could feel the stiff, taut muscle beneath, and the night before came flooding back. "Look, I don't know." "Yes, you do," Meitou said, voice low and close to a whisper. He leaned in and pressed against Therse's outstretched hands, tilting his head to speak into Therse's ear. "You're already hard just from thinking about it." Therse wanted to push him away, wanted to deny it and stalk off down the corridor hoping never to see him again. But it was true. He couldn't stop thinking about last night. It had been a long time since he'd felt that good, since anyone had made him feel so alive, and he wanted more even if he knew it was a bad idea. Perhaps that was what made it so thrilling. He looked down, fingertips clenching slowly into Meitou's perfect black uniform. Meitou's lips grazed his cheek. Therse pushed him away, just far enough that they were no longer touching, and looked Meitou straight in the eye. "It's not right," he said. "After what happened earlier..." Meitou chuckled. His lips were so close Therse could almost taste them. "Don't be such a prude," he was told. "You have an opportunity to fuck, just take it." 81

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"That's all this is, just an opportunity." "Yeah," Meitou said. "That a problem?" Therse considered this, then reluctantly shook his head. Meitou leaned in closer again, smoothly so Therse didn't startle. So close. His lips were so close. Therse could feel the warm breath from Meitou's nostrils tickling his cheek. He realized his eyes were closed. There was no doubt left in his mind that this was absolutely what he wanted. Excitement took hold in the pit of his stomach as he felt Meitou cross the gulf between them and kiss him softly. The Imperial's tongue slid against his bottom lip and Therse opened his mouth, allowing the man's tongue to enter him, slick and warm and wet over his own. Meitou's kiss was much like the man himself—patient, determined, and effortlessly persuasive. Therse's whole body was hot, in a way he'd never experienced any of the times he'd been with other men. This man, the idea of him electrified Therse in a way he'd not thought possible. He clenched his fingers into the fabric of Meitou's jacket and broke free of his lips. "Not here," he managed, lips brushing against Meitou's as he spoke. "Somewhere more...private." Meitou's tongue slipped up under his top lip, and Therse felt his own cock twitch beneath his fatigues. "Where someone can't walk in on us, you mean. Didn't work out so well yesterday." "So I'll remember to lock the door this time."

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The man's hand slipped down against his groin, and Therse had to stop himself from pressing against that caress. "Fuck, you're hard," Meitou told him, licking his earlobe. Therse brushed him off. "There's a room just here," he said, trying to steady the waver in his voice with a coarse cough. Meitou followed him down the corridor a little way until they came to a door, conveniently close but still far too great a distance away for Therse's liking. He wanted to do this and enjoy it before he had time to think about anything again. To lose himself in pleasure for an hour or so sounded just perfect right about now. The door hissed open and they walked in. It was just like any other of the thousand-odd smaller crew member's quarters on the ship—a large bed and some concealed storage, lit by the low orange light from the bathroom. It was more than enough for what they intended. Meitou grabbed Therse by his shirt and kissed him hard. Therse's fingers fumbled beneath Meitou's jacket, eagerly seeking the clasps that held it together, undoing them quickly and pushing the garment from his shoulders. Meitou lifted the shirt from Therse's back, breaking the kiss momentarily as it was tugged over his head. Hands traveled over Therse's body, fingertips pressing down his back and riding over his torso to his erect nipples, rubbing over them until he moaned openly in frustration against Meitou's mouth as they kissed. Meitou performed some trick with the buttons on his own shirt and discarded that too. Therse slung his arms around the man's hot shoulders, fighting a losing battle against 83

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arousal as their half-naked forms pressed together, as Meitou's firm, commanding hands drifted down to his trouser zip. The zip was undone, but those hands wandered away to Therse's buttocks, grabbing and bringing their hips together. The feeling of Meitou's tight, rock-hard cock rubbing up against his own through what little clothing remained set fire coursing through Therse's veins. Meitou himself was looking far less composed, mouth open and strands of fine blond hair falling across his face. He smiled. His hands pushed up into Therse's hair and pulled back sharply, exposing his neck. "If I was ever conceited enough to have a type, you'd certainly be it." "What are you talking about," Therse said, voice strained as he gripped Meitou's shoulders in an attempt to support himself. Meitou watched Therse's lithe body move as he tried to escape the position. "You know, a certain type of person you're bound to fall for." Therse's eyes flicked to his, smiling. "Are you saying you could fall for me? Meitou released his grip and Therse bent upright again, the Imperial's hand sliding over his chest as he moved. "I'm not that kind of guy, remember?" "Right." Therse pushed his fatigues off and watched as Meitou stepped free of his uniform trousers and underwear. Standing naked in the deep orange glow from the bathroom low-light, he was breathtakingly beautiful. Meitou noticed Therse was staring. 84

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"This is a first for you, isn't it?" he asked. "No, I've been with other —" "I meant this situation. You're not the type to jump straight into bed." Meitou smiled. "You like a little effort first." Therse looked down and shoved his clothes out of the way with his foot. "You make me sound like an old-fashioned woman." "You are one." "Thanks." Meitou's fingers slid up Therse's thigh to his groin, combing through his soft, dark curls. "So, why are you doing this anyway? You barely took any seducing at all." Therse stepped closer and Meitou's hand moved down to his balls. "I have needs, same as you," he whispered, closing his eyes and concentrating on that feeling. "Our needs are a little different, believe me," the Imperial told him, body moving encouragingly beneath Therse's hesitant caress. He palmed Therse's balls fully, fingers slipping back to press lightly against the place behind. Therse widened his legs to let him down farther, pushing his face into the crook of Meitou's neck. "We're all the same in the end though, right?" he breathed. "Fuck, breed, and die. That's all we're for." "Such a bleak outlook," Meitou said, sounding almost sad. "I'm just a realist." "If you're not careful, you could end up a nihilist." Therse grunted as the Imperial's hand finally reached his cock. "Maybe the universe wouldn't seem so bad if you gave up the 85

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heavy weight on your shoulders...stopped restraining yourself so tightly..." Therse looked at him with a start. That was an intrusion on sacred ground. Meitou's hands moved to his waist, driving him backwards until they came to the bed. Therse climbed onto it, parting his thighs. "Don't think I can't see it. You're bricked up like a fortress," Meitou persisted, getting one knee on the bed and watching him carefully. "Eh, it's none of my business to ask you what your reasons are." He bent down, mouth destined for Therse's cock. "All I care about is that you're a good fuck." He looked up, cool blue eyes suddenly full of cold tactical reasoning again as he tongued the underside of Therse's glans. "And believe me, if you weren't, I'd already be trying the other one." Therse went rigid and glared at him, mind too addled to rein in his response to what he knew was a blatant play. "Oh, interesting reaction," Meitou chuckled, making it up to Therse by pushing lips down over his cock. Therse's head dropped back as his hips pulsed forward. "You're a bastard," he breathed. "You'll still let me make you feel good though, right?" Therse answered his question by threading fingers into Meitou's hair, forgetting the man's comment amid the haze of pleasure tripping up his erection. "I should be apologizing to my best friend, not here screwing with you." "You do enjoy the luxury of guilt, don't you?" "Fuck you." 86

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"You're about to," Meitou sucked hard on Therse's cock, distracting him as two fingers slipped inside. Therse's back arched, thighs spreading, breath sucked through his teeth from the tangle of pleasure and discomfort at his groin. "Hey, go anytime you want," Meitou told him. "I won't stop you." But Therse had no intention of leaving. **** Gen sat cross-legged on the warm grass, feeling the pleasant heat of the air and the fake sun on his skin as he watched the drones work. They paid him only a cursory amount of attention, buzzing at him in irritation when he was in the way of their activities but otherwise ignoring him altogether. There was something soothing about watching their busy little lives, so full of ultimate purpose and defined roles. The air smelled sweet. If he closed his eyes, it was almost like being at home in his parents' garden. He heard the tell-tale crunching of footsteps up the dirt path, and looked over to where it met the clearing. He was disappointed when it was Meitou who appeared, seemingly not surprised at all to find him here. "What are you up to?" Meitou asked him. "What does it look like?" Gen replied, still finding him irritating. "I didn't have you down as the type of guy to have an affinity for nature." "Well, I didn't have you or Therse down as the type for fucking guys. Everyone's an enigma," he muttered. 87

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"'The type'?" Meitou repeated. "What century are you from? He's looking for you, by the way." Gen grunted and turned back to the plants. Meitou came up beside him, standing a little too close for comfort. "You're not very talkative." "What the hell makes you think I'd want to talk to you?" "What makes you think I give a shit about what you want?" Gen glowered up at him, but the man was grinning. "What are you here for?" he asked. "Oh, I'm just out for a walk..." Meitou said, looking around. "I've been thinking, you know, about your denial." "My 'what'?" "The fact that you'd never realized your best friend was a fag." The man walked over to the edge of the clearing by the projected field, eyeing the same red fruits Therse had been so interested in some days before. "Kind of a big one, that." Meitou was just tall enough to reach them, with a stretch. He picked one, making the tree's foliage shudder as it snapped free. Gen watched him, trying not to give anything away. "What makes you think that was denial or whatever?" he said, voice raised so Meitou could hear him. "How am I supposed to know if he doesn't tell me? Why am I even talking to you?" he muttered, mostly to himself. "Don't you think, though? You've known him what, five years? And in that time you've never known him to fuck anybody." 88

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Gen stood, brushing himself down. "I never asked." "You know how attractive he is, right?" Meitou said, turning back to raise an eyebrow at him. "He's so damn hot I could barely take my eyes off him when you were so insistent on your interrogation." Gen thought of them together and felt his cheeks go the color of the fruit. "The women must have been fawning all over him, and yet nothing ever happens. You never put two and two together?" Meitou opened his mouth wide to take a bite. "I just thought he was shy. He's that kind of cerebral, reserved type." The Imperial laughed. Gen glared over at him. Meitou shook his head, keeping Gen's eye. "He's not reserved," he said, with a knowing smile. "Maybe you don't know him that well after all." Gen wished he'd hurry up and take a big, juicy bite of that shit-fruit. "Just because he's fucking you doesn't mean you know him." "Oh, getting defensive?" "Piss off." "Sometimes we don't ask difficult questions of others because it means we might have to ask difficult questions of ourselves. You might want to spend a bit of time thinking about why you're so annoyed," Meitou said, weighing the fruit in his palm and inspecting it. "I'm not gay." "I know that," he said. Gen was surprised. Meitou lobbed the fruit deep into the forest, as though he'd known all along 89

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it wasn't edible. He waited for the sound of it landing, disturbing things out in the jungle. "That wasn't the question I was thinking of." And with that, he walked away. [Back to Table of Contents]

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5: PAST TRANSGRESSIONS The eerie still of the air. The smell of fear. Genham Drisjic sat in the exam hall, stylus poised over his screen, heel tapping distractedly against the base of his chair as he ran the question around in his mind. The diagram displayed on the flat surface of the desk patiently awaited his final answer. He had no idea. Give him an aggressively complicated battle scenario or tell him to decipher the inner workings of some fancy new military technology and he was fine, he'd have it done in no time. But this, this was something else. Indicate xenon flux valve. The question perched at the top of the screen above a schematic diagram of an Expediator-class fighter, innards shown within an outline of the body shape. He'd known which craft it was immediately, and it had made him hopeful for the nature of the question. He'd hoped too much. He knew the craft. Knew from the sims how they handled in vacuum, in upper and lower atmospheres, knew what it felt like to turn one through a stiff wind, knew how to dip and dive, holding out against the fear in your gut and the warnings on the display. But he didn't have a damn clue what a xenon flux valve was. It wasn't important. He'd spent the lectures on the inner workings of fighter craft largely in a daydream, knowing that they would be irrelevant and that he didn't need to care what the various parts did or how they worked. They had 91

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technicians for that, after all. And now, seeing the question, he was furious. They could have asked anything about compensating for sudden drops in air pressure, anything about coping with changes in gravitational force if a fight escalated to out-of-atmosphere, but no, they had chosen to ask them something technical and irrelevant, the knowing of which would most certainly not be a determining factor of aerial combat. He sneaked a look around, and saw that everyone else was in the same position as him. They all knew the basics of the engine's function; that much was important to know, so that you could exploit certain facets to your advantage. Knowing which specific part sat where was not within their jurisdiction as far as he was concerned. It wasn't just him; he could see they were all stuck at the same place. All except one. Genham felt his top lip curl as Therse Bodan stowed his stylus and folded his screen away. He'd finished the threehour test in under an hour. They all watched him leave the hall with a sense of envy and collective dislike. No doubt, he would be the top scorer. He always was. **** "That fucking valve question." "I know, I had no idea about that one; I just skipped it." "But what the hell were they asking us that for anyway?" "You going to eat that?" "I mean, why would we ever need to know about that?" "Yes, Byrn, I'm going to eat that." 92

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"But you haven't touched it. Are you sure you're going to eat it?" "I didn't come here to be a tech, I came to fly fighters." "I haven't touched it because it's the only part of this delightful spread that doesn't remind me of vomit —" "Well, that's me done. Thanks a-fucking-lot Mal." "— so I am saving it for last. And are you shitting me? You'll drink your own piss but complain at me for being vulgar around the dinner table?" "Gen, how were you with the rest of it?" "Hey, that was a matter of life-or-death, I had no other option." "Eh, I probably did okay, not great..." "That's why I told you to study a little. It's only going to get harder from here on in." "You do have an option when it comes to continually recounting the tale at every available opportunity." "Hey, don't worry about me, I'll just coast it. Doesn't really matter to me if I graduate into Command or not. All I want to do is fly. I can't believe it's been a whole fucking year and we've still only been in sims." "It was you who brought it up this time, not me!" "You see, that's your problem. You can't coast this, Gen. It's not like before." "She's right. The exam should have shown you that." "But I just don't need to know these things, so what's the point in learning them? I'll just forget them immediately afterwards anyway..." 93

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"Just take my fucking bread if you're going to sit there and drool over it. Look, Gen, imagine you're deployed to a planet from space-side, the gases in the atmosphere or the magnetic field screws up your instruments and your comms, forcing you to take manual controls and ditch in the middle of nowhere. The xenon flux valve is the most fragile and liableto-break part of the whole engine complex during landing, which you would have known if you'd read the research Isjerin gave you. The reason you need to know what it does and where it is, is because it is probably the piece you will need to locate and replace if you're ever going to get your bird air-borne again." Gen pushed his chin into his hands like a scolded child. "You're a good fighter in the sims, no one would question that, but when we get out into the real world you're going to need to know your shit, 'cause if you don't, you'll make a mistake that'll screw everyone else over." Iss slid him a compact screen over the table with a kind smile. He took it and started it up, flicking through some pages on engine theory and trying not to sulk openly while Mal's eyes were still on him. They started talking again, and Gen only half listened as he tried to get his head around his friend's notes. They made no sense to him at all, and that meant he'd actually have to put some effort into learning them. He supposed Mal was right, though. She was always right. He hadn't even considered that there might be a situation where he'd need to perform a manual landing or fix his own craft. The thought of 94

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being unprepared in that scenario made him uncomfortable enough to want to learn what he was supposed to. He rubbed his temple and tried to concentrate, zoning out their laughter and background noise. He glanced up momentarily and noticed who was sitting pretty much opposite him, three tables down the mess. Gen glared across the space, secretly hoping he would look up at that moment and see. Therse was on his own, fingers of one hand running lightly over the compact screen by his side on the table top, forking the occasional mouthful with the other. He was always alone at mealtimes. Gen had seen him sit beside people, but never with them. He always had his screen, so that if no one talked to him it didn't really matter. Gen supposed he should feel pity, but couldn't bring himself to. It was the man's own fault he sat alone, after all. No one ever wanted much to do with him. **** Gen sat by himself in the officers' mess of the Terminal Regret, inspecting the hoard he'd taken from the biohabitat's garden. He rubbed his thumb over a carrot, brushing some of the dirt off it and onto the tabletop. Even for a carrot, it was impressively straight and orange. He took it in both hands and bent it gently until it snapped, inspecting the center and the lighter-orange circle inside. He bit into it, despite the grit, just a little nibble to taste. It was sweet and crunchy. He brushed off a bit more dirt from the half he planned to eat and put the other half in one of the small bowls he'd fetched. He'd wash that later. 95

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A couple of potatoes, some beans, tomatoes and berries followed it. He counted up the strawberries. Seven. He'd been a bit overloaded by the time he'd reached the strawberry plants and not been able to carry that many. He added four of them into the bowl, but made sure they were the smallest ones. Therse liked them more than he did anyway. Everything else went into the other, empty bowl. He ate the rest of his carrot half and thought about what Meitou had been saying earlier. He'd made it sound like there was something he needed to ask Therse, something he didn't want to ask because he'd have to answer to the same thing. What question? He frowned down at the assorted fruit and vegetables in front of him as though they might have a suggestion. He wasn't in denial about anything, that much he knew. Fuck what some non-ranked Imperial thought about him. How the hell was he to know Therse was gay? He'd kept it well enough hidden. Gen had never even seen him so much as look at another guy when they'd been together. He was still pissed about it though, and to his mind being pissed was a perfectly reasonable response. He'd thought they were pretty close, but Therse had kept a huge secret from him and now it felt like everything between them was underwritten by a lie. Well, perhaps not a lie as such, just...an extra film of truth he hadn't been aware of before. He sighed at the produce and wondered whether Therse had accepted that invitation to Command yet. **** 96

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Therse gripped the palm-clasps tightly and pressed his body back into the fighter's suspension harness, drawing in a deep breath and forcing his body to relax. He was heading up a small squadron of twenty-or-so Light Assault Modules on a mission to scope out a suspected rebel base inside the Torinn system, towards the outer limits of Inhabited Space. He'd ordered the ships of his squad to spread apart around him, linking every vessel to create a sub-space tracker network. Now they were just waiting, like a predatory insect lurking on the surface tension of a still pond, feeling for ripples, poised and ready to strike. The Torinn system was famous for the vast ring-world Vatula, a planet enormous even by gas giant standards. That swirling blue-green mass loomed silently off to Therse's side. He watched it for a while, wondering how well its violent storms of gas would be rendered if he got up close to them. Perhaps the planet would pixelate, or perhaps he'd simply find himself dropped back to the position he'd been at when the mission simulation started. There was a problem. Fighters started to drop off his map, one by one, without warning. Something was killing his men, working from the outside flanks in, and he hadn't the first clue what was doing it. "Fuck," he said, fingers flicking fast over the fighter's projected menus, scanning the data from the emergency signal bursts the dead craft had sent before they'd exploded. Another one gone, and he was no closer to the answer. Perhaps there was an unseen pocket of gases or something 97

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else situational he wasn't seeing. "All ships move to mapped vector heading." He marked a point a few tens of kilometers out from their current location. Then a door opened as though from within Vatula, spilling a bright light across space itself, and through it appeared a disgruntled-looking Gen. "Hey," Gen said, gruffly. Therse just stared over at him at first, Gen strangely rendered through the projections of the visor he was wearing. Looking at real-world things while still being absorbed into the module was what Therse imagined waking dreams to be like. "Hey," he replied, mustering a half-smile. But he was glad to see Gen again. "When was the last time you ate?" Gen said, walking forward a little so that he was essentially standing on top of one of Therse's simulated squad. It exploded beneath his feet. "I don't know, yesterday?" Therse shrugged as much as was possible in the harness, then motioned around with his hand. "I'm kind of in the middle of something." "Just pause it and come get something to eat." They looked at one another for a long moment. Therse could tell Gen wasn't going to take no for an answer. "I'll be there in a sec, just give me chance to change out of this," he sighed. A discrete smile flickered across Gen's Officially Pissed expression. "I'll be waiting for you in the mess hall," he called back, leaving the door to the module wide open so Therse wouldn't lose himself in the sim again. 98

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Therse desorbed and shut the sim down, and the harness released him. The interface was made through a number of small plugs that attached magnetically to the module's harness, conveying his biosignatures to the machine and allowing for sensations to be electrically generated in his own body, just like in a real fighter. The only impracticality about the suits was their impossible tightness. They weren't constricting, more like a second skin that was incredibly difficult to get in and out of. Therse decided he couldn't be bothered to change out of it, and would follow his stomach straight to lunch. As he emerged from the module he noticed Meitou wandering around, peering into one of the other sim modules parked in the bay. "Not seen one of these before?" he called, and started towards him. Meitou looked over at him. "I've seen something similar," Meitou shouted back, moving to meet him. He looked Therse from head to toe, and raised an eyebrow. "I'm interested to see how they work," "I'd show you, but..." "Somewhere you need to be?" Therse considered this. "Nah," he said, waving a gloved hand. "It'll only take a minute, and I'm still dressed for it after all." He showed Meitou inside the nearest module, the dark ovuloid space humming to life as Therse strapped himself once more into the rigid harness, various plugs and pitted sensor clasps on his suit making snapping noises as they clipped into place, linking man and machine. 99

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Meitou was standing right beside him, looking around. The start-up screen appeared and bathed them in a soothing blue light. "Don't you have this sort of thing on your side?" "Sort of, but they're a bit more sophisticated. And the process is eventually irreversible." "Oh." "What now?" Meitou asked, looking over at the forward screen where it was awaiting a prompt from Therse. "Well, now I'd normally absorb and run a full sim, a battle, test my tactics —" "Sounds interesting. Show me?" "Well, I've only just run one, so..." "Hmm, all right, just absorb then." Meitou smiled at him. "I want to see what happens." Therse felt himself blush under that gaze. Each time it was like he'd forgotten precisely how attracted he was to Meitou. "Not that much, the screen goes funny colors and I sort of drift off a bit." "But you're still in sensory contact with the real world?" "Yeah. Look, I'll just do it quickly." He began the process, pressing his consciousness to that of the module's AI—the AI wasn't intelligent as such, but it was aware enough to respond to him. Bands of rich color washed over the module's screens; a slow, swirling psychedelic mixture of all shades of the spectrum, some bands larger than others, expanding and contracting as they sped up or slowed down. 100

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Therse was feeling a little heated, having Meitou so close. He cleared his throat. "That's all there is to it really at this stage. This is the only level of the consciousness molding that produces anything like this, anyway." He was trying to look over at Meitou as he spoke, but the harness prevented him. "You ever wondered what the colors mean?" Meitou said, with the hint of a smile. "Not really, I just thought they were random. They don't usually last long until the sim starts up." He thought about it for a second, wishing he could see the man's face. "Do they mean something?" "Yes." "What?" "I didn't say I knew," "Oh." Therse felt a contact against his nipple, teasing him through the suit. "H-hey, what are you doing?" "You have any idea how good you look in that?" "It's just a suit—" "Vacuum-fitted sensory modulator. Vacuum. Fitted. Seriously leaves nothing to the imagination. Even if I was straight, I'd probably still want to fuck you in that," Meitou said, tracing a fingertip up Therse's neck to beneath his chin, tilting his head back. "Well, thanks." "This is your own suit, right?" He slid that finger beneath the suit's collar, pulling it away from Therse's skin. "Yeah," 101

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"Wear it often?" he said, letting it snap back. "Usually only when I need to." Meitou stood in front of Therse, face to face, his lips close and smiling. "Ever wear it when you don't need to?" "I don't get what you're driving at." "Sure you do." Meitou looked him over appreciatively. "Wearing something like that, such a specific piece of kit, designed only to be worn when interfacing with a ship, something so tight and revealing that most people would feel uncomfortable sporting it outside the environment it was intended for...wanting someone to notice you?" "No." Meitou's nose slid up against his, hands gliding over his waist. "I'm never wrong, Therse," he whispered. "Bad habit of mine." "I'm desorbing." Therse said. "Don't even think about it," Meitou told him with a smirk, grabbing the struts his arms were fastened to and locking them to the harness above his head. "Hey...!" "That coy act is tired, Therse. It doesn't suit you at all, so drop it." Meitou bit hard on his bottom lip. Hard enough to leave a mark, and making Therse groan and writhe in the constricting harness. Even if he'd wanted to escape what Meitou had planned, he couldn't. The struts held his arms fast and he was locked into the apparatus until he desorbed from the module interface. It was a convenient excuse. It was odd, being aroused with his consciousness pressed to an AI's awareness. It could see everything he was feeling, 102

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but didn't understand the meaning. It made him more detached from reality, a little less withheld and reluctant. "I...I can't stand it how easily you unravel me..." Therse whispered as Meitou's hands ran over him. The projected visor showed him his vital readings, the quickening of his heart rate, the increase of blood pressure in his groin, the heightened sensitivity of his neuromuscular system in that region. It was embarrassing to see his own arousal displayed so clearly as the module waited patiently for him to select a battle sim. He could feel Meitou's hands everywhere, pressing firm against his body through the tight, thin fabric of his suit, running downwards to his groin with patiently seductive determination. He felt his body flex without his intention, trying to encourage those hands and make them slip down faster. Meitou's lips touched his, planting deep, soft, slow kisses that drove him wild. There was a shift in his position, as though he was being tilted backwards. It was very disorientating. He felt as though he should protest, tell Meitou to let him up, to stop taking advantage, but the part of him that wanted this to stop spoke only in a very weak and unconvincing voice, right at the heart of him. It complained that he needed his control back, that being restrained and powerless wasn't right, that bad things would happen like they had before. He settled for a resistant, obstinate attitude towards the proceedings and willed Meitou to just get on with it already by kissing him back forcefully. Meitou kissed him deeper, grinding up against him as his hand finally reached Therse's groin. Therse moaned and 103

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spread his thighs as far as he was able in the tight grip of the harness, the kneading actions of Meitou's palm making him hard as hell. The breath was deep and ragged through his lips as Meitou's tongue dragged along his jaw and into his ear. He felt Meitou move and opened his eyes, trying his hardest to make out the man's actions through the confusion of the visor, and realized he was being straddled. His body ached for Meitou's lips again and he hissed when they returned, as Meitou bit down on him through the suit, flexed over him and rubbed along him, making Therse wish so badly to be free of the harness and able to grab him, able to tear the clothes from his body and push inside him. He tilted his hips against the pressure, meeting Meitou's groin as he thrust down. It was almost intolerably frustrating to be able to do nothing more than lie there and take it. But it was plain to see, from his vitals and from the base actions of his body, overcome with want, that this was arousing him no end. Something that undoubtedly hadn't escaped the notice of the cold, tactical genius writhing above him. Therse felt Meitou's tongue along his lips and opened his mouth, desperate for penetration. Meitou pulled away at first, teasing him until he moaned openly, then kissing him deep, hands up into Therse's hair as he dragged his hard body back and forth. It was almost like they were fucking just as it was, that same movement, same rhythm of two people working as one, and the friction through the suit was certainly enough to see the end of Therse given time. He could already feel the first 104

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wisps of explosive pleasure pooling at his groin. He wanted to grip Meitou's hips as they thrust against him, but he was powerless to do so. Meitou lay hot above him. Therse was looking right at him but couldn't see him properly through the visor, heightening his other senses. Therse shuddered, beginning to lose it already. Meitou brought his lips down again, touching them lightly to Therse's. From what Therse could make out, Meitou seemed to be very interested in the color transition of the bands on the module's interface. Therse finally got what he wanted as Meitou's hand reached past the groin of his suit and took hold of his tight, dripping cock, pulling it out as he reached for his own, working them both together. Then he sat up and away, and Therse was left wanting. He tried to lift his head to see, tried to make out what was happening in the room beyond the visor, but the only thing he could sense was the sudden sweet smell to the air. The fragrant scent of lubricant set his heart racing. He felt his cock handled again, Meitou indulging in a few luxurious strokes before the cooling touch of lube, only a fingertip on his glans and not nearly enough to satisfy his want. He flexed in the harness, demanding attention. Then he realized something was off. The lubricant felt different; even though there was no longer any contact with his erection the sensation was deeper and gathering, growing to something unspeakably, breathtakingly pleasurable. Meitou's hand stroked up the inside of his thigh as he tried to contain his gasps. 105

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"You might have noticed this isn't your average lubricant," he heard Meitou tell him. "It's a rather special concoction I use very sparingly, so feel honored. It's expensive as hell." "What...what is..." "Feels good, doesn't it?" "Uhuh...nh.." "Contains a compound that activates your pressure sensors without you actually having to be touched. Ironically, it was first developed as a torture aid to simulate horrific injury. Watered down though, it feels fucking fantastic." Meitou's hand covered him in it, pushing down on him slick and hard, and suddenly it was unbearably good. He was so tight it was sore, as though he might burst. He heard the sounds of undressing through his addled, interfaced mind, and felt a peak of arousal as naked skin settled against him, as Meitou's warmth and weight returned to him and began to push down over him, taking him whole. Therse could see him, if he focused hard enough. Could make out his strained expression painted with pleasure. The glorious sensations at his groin and the fact that his mind was spread out, swimming in the module's interface, made him less restrained. "You're the hottest guy I've ever...fuck..." he managed, as Meitou was finally all the way down, so tight around him Therse gasped. Meitou gripped the harness behind Therse's shoulder where it was rigid and used it as leverage as he began thrusting down onto him, gathering pace, flicking his hips as he moved. Therse watched him, speechless with the feeling of 106

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it, biting his lip to hold in the cacophony of noise that was bound to fall out of his mouth if he unlocked it. Meitou wasn't having any of his resistance, and thrust a thumb into his mouth to open his jaw. "No one can hear you, you needn't be so restrained." He could feel the tingling of lube on his tongue, and licked against Meitou's thumb, taking him by surprise a little. Therse gave in and moaned around it, flexing his hips to meet Meitou's thrusts as much as he could. He wasn't sure if it was the effects of the interface on his mind, but he noticed something flicker across Meitou's face like he was beginning to lose control, letting himself go more than he ought to, like his agenda was slipping. Meitou watched Therse's mouth work around his thumb and leaned in to kiss him, passionate and deep, like he was doing something he knew he shouldn't and had to do it quickly before he reconsidered. His fingers slipped up into Therse's hair, running frantic over his body and grabbing at the fabric of his suit for purchase as they moved. Meitou groaned against him, and Therse could feel the man's thighs twitching, his kiss almost desperate as they wound up to climax. Meitou's hand went to his cock, fisting hard as they kissed, then he pulled away, teeth grit in frustration, thrusting hard enough down on Therse to shake the module. Therse watched his face intently as he reached orgasm, head snapping back, ejaculate painting Therse's chest in hot spurts. Therse was breathing hard. That had been one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. Hot enough to make him forget what a selfish asshole he was being right now. 107

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Meitou looked exhausted as he came down from it, then regained his composure, panting in surprise at himself. He went to kiss Therse again, but thought better of it. "I'll be honest, it's been a while since I came that hard." He ran a finger through the warm come plastered over the suit and seemed somehow satisfied to see Therse marked by his orgasm. Then he pulled off, leaving Therse still wound up and flushed. "Hurry up and fuck me already," Therse spat, twisting as much as he was able. Meitou chuckled. "That's more like it." He pulled down the suit flap covering Therse's groin and slipped his fingers in, reaching for Therse's prostate with lubed fingertips. Therse was in a bad way. Meitou leaned in, pressing against him. "You want it?" he said, low and close. "Yeah," Therse all but snarled. Meitou gripped his neck and ground his re-awakened erection against Therse's thigh. "Tell me how you want it." "Hard, fuck me hard," he demanded. Therse felt the harness hoisted under his leg, Meitou using his sheer brute strength to wrench it up. He cried out as Meitou slammed into him. "Don't hold back," Meitou told him. "Give me a reason to fuck you this good..." He was starting to lose it altogether as Meitou fucked him harder, driving in and out of him, riding over his prostate. "Fuck! Yes!" he yelled, tensing in the harness as he began to unravel. 108

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Then Meitou stopped. Therse writhed about, flexing as much as he was able, trying to get Meitou to start up again. "Fucking move!" he hissed. Fingers thrust into his mouth to quiet him down. "You have a real dirty mouth when you're wound up this tight," Meitou told him, voice thick with seduction. "I like it." He moved again, slowly. "Unfortunately for you, that means I'll want to stretch this out." "Shit," Therse said, licking, sucking, biting down desperately on the fingers in his mouth. "Christ, you would have made a fantastic whore." Therse scowled up at him. "I'd bet men halfway across the segment would've paid handsomely to ride your pretty ass," he said, drawing out of Therse all the way and pulling back his foreskin before plunging back in. "And paid even more handsomely for the chance to break you in." Meitou pulled his fingers out far enough so that Therse could speak. "Tough shit, then, that I'm going to be a Navy Commander, eh?" Therse said, thrusting his tongue between Meitou's fingertips. "Oh, so you made your decision? Shame, if you ask me. You could have been filthy rich trading on your assets." "I'm not cheap enough to sell my body." "That's not what they'd be buying, not really. They'd all want the chance to tame you." Meitou was rubbing him so good it was hard to maintain enough focus to speak. "Tame me?" 109

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"All that rage you feel, all that anger. It's dripping up to the surface. If you wore it like you're wearing it now, there's not a man alive who wouldn't want to rein you in." "You don't know...what the fuck you're talking about..." he gasped. "Sure I do. Right now you're helpless and you can't stand it, but it feels good enough for you to allow it." Therse smirked. "Are you saying you want to tame me?" "You're already mine if I want you." "Wrong. That's not your place." Meitou grinned at him almost as though he'd been expecting that answer. "Oh? Then whose is it?" Therse looked away. Meitou increased pace again and Therse's eyes rolled back in his head. "You've already decided, haven't you? You put the bridle on yourself, you're just waiting for him to take up the reins." "That's not —" Meitou removed his fingers from Therse's mouth, a little hesitantly. "Like I said, a shame," he whispered, and thrust hard. As Therse was about to come, Meitou looked up at the module surface and said, "I wonder what Gen's doing right now." The bands changed color at the mention of Gen, just as Therse felt himself flood with guilt and lust. And then, right before the peak of his orgasm, he realized Meitou had known all along what the bands meant. **** 110

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By the time Therse had showered, changed and got to the mess, Gen was already gone. On the table where they'd usually had their meals together, before Meitou arrived, sat a little white bowl full of delicious-looking things fresh from the biohabitat. Therse took a seat alone, rifling through the bowl with a faint smile on his lips. He pulled out a juicy-looking strawberry, inspecting its full, red color, then decided to leave those 'til last and began with the washed half of carrot. It tasted of when the trees turned autumn colors back home. He looked over at the comms point on the wall, feeling terribly guilty for neglecting his friend, but did nothing. [Back to Table of Contents]

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6: AN EXERCISE IN DIFFICULT TRUTHS The fog was everywhere, closed in so tightly around him he could only see a couple of feet in front of his face. The only sounds reaching him were the slap slap of his feet against the wet earth and the rushing breath in his chest. Everything else was stolen by the white blur. The morning air was cruelly cold, nipping at his flesh and clawing at his lungs, but he pushed through it. Gen strained to listen through the blank but there were no sounds besides those he was making himself, which meant he had a comfortable lead over the second jogging group. A twenty-mile run after a full fried breakfast; he hadn't suspected the officers would be so cruel. At the time they'd thought they were getting a treat, but really it was a doublecross. Explained the grins on some of the officers' faces while they'd watched the squad eating. Gen was glad he'd taken the noble route that morning and stuck to his porridge and fruit. It wasn't long before the men and women jogging around him who'd eaten too much of the rich, fat-laden food had started vomiting. They'd been released in two squads so the route wasn't overcrowded, and he'd been held back in the second, much to his irritation. Having to wait for other people and follow up behind them did not appeal to him in the slightest, stirring his competitive instincts, making him want not only to out-run everyone in his squad but to overtake those from the first squad as well. 112

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He looked down at the monitor on his wrist to check he was still on course. He couldn't see a thing in this damn fog. Then something appeared up ahead of him—a grayish amorphous blur that darkened and gradually began to cement as he got closer to it. Gen smiled and spurred his pace. He was about to overtake his first victim. His smile broadened when he realized who was taking up the rear of the first jogging squad. He passed Therse easily, sailing by him, holding himself broad and proud as he turned to smirk over his shoulder. But Therse kept his head down, not meeting Gen's eyes, not even acknowledging he was there at all. Not bothered or impressed in the slightest that he'd just been overtaken. He had no idea why, but Gen found that both disappointing and infuriating at the same time. Gen had gotten the fastest time, not that anyone was surprised. Athletics had always been one of his strengths. Therse had been the slowest runner and was one of the last to arrive in the changing rooms, looking exhausted. He avoided most people's eyes, making his way to his locker quietly as the men around him grinned. It was the first time any of them had ever beaten him at something, and the victory was sweet. Gen tasted it sweeter than any. He sidled over to where Therse was standing, starting to pull off his sweats and beginning to change. There were amused mutters as the men realized where Gen was headed and what might follow when he got there. He leaned in and they looked at one another properly for the first time. "You were looking good there in my rear 113

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viewscreen," he said. Therse glared at him slightly but said nothing, pulling on his clean fatigue shirt. "Nothing you want to say?" Gen continued, trying to get something out of him at least. The room was quiet now, all eyes fixed on the two of them. But Therse said nothing as he tugged up his trousers. "Does it hurt to do badly at something?" Gen said softly, to stifled laughter from his audience. Therse stuffed his worn clothes into his kit bag and walked out. The next time the officers pulled the same trick was after a roast dinner. Only the really stupid recruits fell for it this time, but there were plenty of those. Gen was in the second release again, only this time he wasn't too bothered. He'd enjoyed the satisfaction of passing people from the first wave. He was especially not bothered when he saw that Therse would be in the first squad, as before. He watched the first wave leave, jigging happily from foot to foot, the only one of them with a smile on his face in the pouring rain. He was faster this time, he was sure of it, because he very quickly caught up with the stragglers of the first wave, powering past them with little interest. He sped past them all one by one, searching for the man he really wanted to see him as he overtook. To watch his back and know that he'd been beaten. But it had been a while since he'd last seen anyone, and he was beginning to wonder if he'd passed Therse and not even noticed. Or gotten off track, but a quick check of the wrist monitor told him he was going in the right direction. He 114

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felt a kick of doubt. It would be a shame if he'd missed the look in Therse's eyes. Then Gen crested a hill, and spotted Therse just up ahead. He felt himself grin. This was going to be good...didn't matter that Therse was out in front of his own squad, Gen was still gaining on him. It took much more effort than he'd thought to catch up, though. Therse heard his footsteps and peered back over his shoulder just as Gen was rounding on him. Gen was surprised when Therse began to pull away. He kicked extra power into his own heels and fought back, closing the distance between them again. Therse looked back at him and Gen gained immense satisfaction from the irritation on the other man's face. He was almost level with Therse now, could see the drained but determined look in his eyes, rain streaming down his face and plastering his clothes to his body. Therse was flagging badly, steps shaky and shoulders jittery, but he wouldn't give in. Gen had to push himself even further, almost reaching his limit to beat Therse to the finish line. And even then it was only just. Once they were past it Therse dropped to his knees in the sodden earth, coughing as though his lungs were about to fall out. It took every ounce of strength Gen had remaining not to do the same thing. Gen set a new record, eclipsing Therse's achievement in the eyes of anyone who'd noticed it at all. Therse was still suffering in the showers, leaning forward with both hands against the wall and letting the water flow down his bare back as Gen wandered over to him. 115

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"Nice run. Have you been training?" Gen goaded. Therse ignored him and began soaping up. Gen punched him lightly in the mid-back, getting soap from Therse's firm body on his fist. "Don't fucking ignore me." Therse glared at him over his shoulder and spoke to him for the first time. "Why not? Doesn't sound like you've much worth saying." Gen sneered back at him. "You just can't handle the fact that someone is better at something than you. You think you're so fucking good just because you've gotten a few decent test scores. Well let me tell you, that doesn't count for shit out there, and I don't want some asshole who should be a pencil-pusher getting in my way, holding us all up because he doesn't belong on the battlefield." He leant in, watching Therse's expression. "And trust me, you don't belong." There were mutters of agreement as Gen walked away. Later in the mess, Gen was surprised to see Mal and Vice talking to Therse. They were both smiling, chatting away, all jokey and friendly like they'd known one another for ages. He considered joining them and seeing him off, but noticed Byrn sitting oblivious in the middle of the hall and joined him instead. "Hey," he said, setting his tray down. Byrn looked up momentarily from his screen and waved a hand at Gen. "I can't stand that guy." Gen muttered. Byrn looked up at him for a puzzled moment then turned to follow Gen's gaze. He turned back, none the wiser. "He's just some guy, what the hell is your problem anyway?" 116

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"Everything he does pisses me off." "You know he's been approached for taking early access?" Byrn said, taking a bite of his food. Gen went stone-faced. "What?" Byrn nodded. "They're going to let him on the real fighters. A year early." Byrn himself didn't seem particularly perturbed by the notion. Certainly nowhere near as much as Gen. "What the fuck?" "Apparently he's one of the smartest candidates they've ever had. He can read the battle sims even better than Mal can." "But he has no idea about commanding. There's no way a squad would follow him, what are they thinking? That should be me..." Bryn shot him a tired glare. "Look, would you stop being such a shit to him? I was there earlier in the changing rooms when you were being a dick." "Why should I? He rubs me the wrong way, it's not my fault —" "It is entirely your fault. Look, I don't know what you've got against him, but you have to get it out of your system." Tennar joined them, slight apologetic smile riding his face as usual. "I think I can guess what you guys are talking about. I can see it from the look on your face," he said, pointing at Gen. "Whatever." "Byrn was telling me about your little outburst. You're going a bit overboard, don't you think?" 117

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Gen held his hands up. "Why have you got such a problem with me railing on this guy? It's not like he gets it any worse than anyone else does. Or much worse, at least." Byrn and Tennar exchanged glances. Tennar cleared his throat and turned to Gen. "Look, Iss was telling me yesterday that she came across his file while she was sorting some corrupted data after the storm. His history...it's not pretty. He doesn't deserve to get shit from you." Gen was intrigued. "What kind of not pretty?" Tennar scratched at the back of his head and looked uneasy. "Rough background," he said, blowing on his soup and taking a sip. "He came to the Navy on a scholarship to escape his home life. Mother was a prostitute, father was a drunk who used to beat them both up. So back off, okay?" **** "I've got their records if you want them." Meitou considered this, but didn't look up from his screen. "That would be cheating." "I thought you liked to act on the most complete intelligence," his ship observed. "Ordinarily yes. But they're both so damned easy I feel like having any extra information would be an unfair advantage." "They're an interesting read, but suit yourself. You're running out of time, though." "Yes, thank you." "Don't blame me, I was just the one ordered to get you there faster." 118

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"And you couldn't possibly have told Command it was impossible to modify the engines of this ship." "And make enemies of the Branch bigwigs? Not likely. Even worse if they thought I was simply inept because of it." "You really are under their thumb, aren't you?" "We both are. Everyone is. We're all just pawns; better to accept our place in society and thrive in it than resist and be cast aside." "Whatever, under the thumb or not I'm still going to have my fun." "Is there anything you care about other than fucking? Honestly, when exactly do you plan to start behaving like a Fleet Commander?" "Maybe when you start behaving more like a warship and less like a melancholy observational outpost. Then you'd see that it isn't just the fucking that's the fun part, it's the manipulating other people to do things. If that has to happen through fucking, then all the better. There's something between them...something that binds them together and I can't quite figure it out..." The ship made a noise that gave the impression it would have been rolling its eyes if it had them, and left him alone. **** Meitou stepped into the low light of the mess hall and headed towards the vendors. The ship had told him what to avoid, but still every time he'd used them the results had been unpleasant. He noticed Gen sitting over on a table near 119

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the screen windows, staring out at nothing. He looked over, scowled, and turned away again. "I take it you two haven't made up yet then," Meitou called, thinking better of whatever had dropped into his bowl from the machine and tipping it away. Gen didn't respond. "I'm probably seeing more of him than you are at the moment," he laughed. Gen glared at him, though he'd hoped for a little more vitriol. He walked over and leaned against one of the tables nearby. "I like him. He's smart. Smart enough to be an Imperial, if only he had the right genes." "Mm." "A couple of years time and he'll have his own ship, I've no doubt. He has a great mind for tactics, right?" "Uh huh." Gen stood to leave. "Then why are you holding him back?" "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Why else would a man with the potential to be a first-rate strategic officer right now, be wasting his time with smallscale missions and backwater postings? If it wasn't for you I bet he'd be a sub-commander already." "What do I have to do with anything? You're not making any sense." "Let me guess. You were bottom or near-bottom in your class. Lowest aptitude for most things, leaving you with an incomplete skill-set. You keep him here because you don't want to be left behind." "Don't act like you know me. Or him. What he does with his life is his own damn business." 120

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"So you never convinced him to go with you to Epsilon? Never told him how much fun it would be, how much you'd both learn and grow from it, never assured him it would be for the best? Never discouraged him from taking that post that might lead him to something bigger?" "No." "You're lying." "What did he tell you?" "He hasn't told me anything. He doesn't have to; it's so blatantly obvious. We don't like to think humans are simple creatures, but we are, Gen. We all have wants and needs that dictate our choices, our actions. You'll tell him whatever it takes to keep him by your side. You're afraid he'll leave you like all the others have, and you'll have no one left to keep you afloat." "That's bullshit." "Is it? What other possible reason could there be for you wanting him to stick around? Him in particular, I might add..." He scrutinized Gen's expression. Gen breathed in and appeared to compose himself, putting on impressive air of dignity as he turned back to face Meitou. "I honestly wouldn't expect a man who is all tactics and no soul to understand my motives when I don't even know. But I know he stays of his own free will; I've never cajoled him into anything—I'm simply glad to have him by. He stays for his own reasons, though I don't pretend to understand those either." Meitou could suddenly see what Therse saw in Gen—a startling charisma, a self-assurance and stern conviction that, 121

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given the extra gravitas a bit of maturity would bring him, could stoke even the dullest embers in a man's chest to a roaring inferno. Men would not follow Therse to their deaths, but they would one day follow Gen if it was needed. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Certainly a worthy trip. He had found two very interesting men indeed. Meitou moved over to where Gen was, leaning close beside him. Gen didn't flinch, determined not to give him any ground. When Meitou eventually spoke, his tone was kind and understanding. "He's about to leave you, isn't he? You know he's going to accept that post from Command, because it's what he's always wanted. That's why you're so pissed at him, not because he's gay and never told you. You don't want him to go. You can't stand the thought of never seeing him again. That's why you're making a big deal out of this, so he might stay out of guilt. With you." **** Gen swallowed. He felt as though he should be angry but all he could feel was hollow, as though suddenly aware of empty places inside he hadn't noticed before. He looked at Meitou, close and composed, and all he could muster was a vague scowl. The man saw through it easily and smiled. It was a kind smile at least, he supposed. He could almost see why Therse would be attracted to him. There was certainly something about him, something transfixing in those ice-cool blue eyes. He noticed himself look at Meitou's lips, at those close, full, pink lines, and lowered 122

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his head so that his hair fell forward, not sure what was he was thinking. He heard Meitou move, the faint swish of fabric at his side. The man's fingers swept Gen's hair gently behind his ear with a lingering touch around his lobe. He was surprised at himself that he allowed it. He coughed and stood, then started across the mess without turning back. **** Meitou watched him go, smiling quietly in the dark of the mess hall, like the inward victory of a chess grandmaster who knows his most daring final move has just been put into play. Across the hall, as he was leaving through the main doors, Gen hissed and rubbed at a sudden pain behind his ear. Yes, all the pieces on the board were about to dance to his tune. **** Gen rubbed at the odd sore spot behind his ear as he stepped into the shower, and thought about what Meitou had been saying earlier. About not wanting Therse to leave. Of course he didn't want him to leave. Therse was his best friend. It was bad enough that some rampant Imperial idiot had gate-crashed the time they still had together. But telling him so seemed...difficult, somehow. His mind wandered back to when he'd discovered the lovers together, Therse's face, the moment before he'd realized Gen had burst in—that fleeting look of pleasure, then utter horror. 123

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He didn't really understand why it made him so irritated, why every time he saw Meitou there was a liquid heat that ran through him like simmering rage, why he was annoyed at Therse for indulging so easily. He looked down and realized that thinking about the two of them together had made him hard. He blushed and tried to ignore his erection, but it was achingly persistent. He relented and ran his hand along his cock, conjuring up memories of ex-girlfriends and fantasizing about them. But his mind just kept slipping back to Therse and Meitou, intertwined, the rhythm of Therse's thrusts translating into the movement of Meitou's eager body, Therse's erection slipping deep in and out of him. He stopped and pounded a fist into the wall of the little shower, frustrated at the odd direction his mind had taken; confused and irritated by how hard it had made him to remember and imagine what it might feel like. But try as he might he couldn't ignore it, and his cock commanded attention. He started up again, thinking strictly of breasts in his hands, nipples protruding seductively through his fingers as tight pussy rode his hard length. He thought of how he would make her scream, how she would cry out his name over and over, begging for more. He fingered his balls as he thought about it, cheek pressed to the wall and breathing hard as he thought of her clawing at him for release as his tongue lapped her folds. Then his hand slipped down further, to that place behind his balls where it felt good and made him wet. Made him want 124

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something wrapped around his cock as he licked away— something that was better than his own hand. Someone's mouth, pleasuring him as he pleasured another. But not a woman's mouth. The thought of a guy's lips and tongue taking him whole made him harder than he'd ever been in his life, and in that moment he was too hot to care about the implications. All he knew was that thinking about it made him really fucking tight. He imagined someone kneeling in front of him, gripping his hips with rough, unforgiving hands and forcing him to thrust forward, pushing him into the hot, wet place beyond. He imagined trying to push him away but being overpowered and brought down, pinned as the man worked his cock with hands and lips and tongue that knew him better than any woman ever could. He ran hands through the man's thick, dark hair, pushing him away and holding him down in equal measure, feeling the end of his erection squeezed by his throat, tension flaring in his groin as his body prepared for orgasm. He opened his eyes a fraction, and his fantasy dissolved. He was hard and desperate for it, but determined not to come with those thoughts in his head. He just couldn't understand what was wrong with him. He'd had similar thoughts before, but always been able to overwhelm them and think of women instead, which was what he really wanted. But he was so hard he could feel the pulse in every part of his erection, and had to move out of the water flow because it was getting too sensitive. He reached down to his balls, back against the wall, panting openly as he tugged them gently, wanting to resume the fantasy and enjoy the climax he knew 125

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would follow, but still resistant. He let his head drop to the side, rubbing his palm in small circular motions over his glans. It was just a fantasy, after all. It didn't matter that thinking of being pleasured by another man turned him on beyond where thinking of women took him to. "Am I interrupting?" Gen jolted, eyes wide, staring out into the bathroom, horrified that he'd been discovered but finding no one. "Oh, sorry. Don't worry, I'm speaking directly into your ear." "How the fuck —" "You see, earlier, when I touched you, I popped a little device behind your ear. It's tapped into your vestibulocochlear nerve—completely harmless and reversible, I assure you—so even though I'm on the other side of the ship I can still talk to you." "What the hell! Turn this shit off, now!" "Now where would be the fun in that? After all, it seems like you've got something you want to get back to..." "Can you see?" "No, no," laughed the voice in his ear. "But this device also monitors brain activity and heart rate...dopamine production and the like...quite impressively sophisticated for such a small thing." "What the fuck do you want?" "Just do a little something for me, and I promise to leave you alone." "What?" "I know you're all hot and worked up already," 126

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"Fuck you, spying bastard." "But I thought I'd make up for my rudeness earlier by guiding you to the best orgasm you've ever had." "Like hell I'd want that!" "So you're soft then?" "Well, no, but —" "So you'd have to admit you want this on some level, right?" "I'm just hard because I'm so close! Fuck, why am I even telling you this." "How close?" "Don't even fucking think about it, you asshole." "Come on, Gen, I'll promise I'll leave you alone altogether afterwards. You have no idea how good it feels...just play along for now, and if the thought of me making you come turns you off completely, I'll leave you to your own devices." Gen looked down at his cock. His mind may have been addled, but there was no way. Absolutely no way. And yet he was intrigued. There was something in Meitou's voice, something rich and seductive and convincing, and he would be doing it himself, able to think of whatever he wanted—and the promise of the best orgasm he'd ever had was certainly appealing. So he said nothing. "I see," Meitou said, with an audible grin. "Then do exactly as I tell you." A new and commanding tone to the man's voice rekindled the fire in Gen's groin. "Okay," he swallowed, wanting to get this over with, blushing from the thought of it and feeling quite uncomfortable but aroused nonetheless. 127

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"Put your back against the wall. Just your shoulders; lean your hips forward so your cock is in full view." "Mm," he said. "Spread your thighs. Start like you usually do." The blush on his cheeks was for a different reason now. It felt like the temperature in the cubicle had gone up a few degrees as he rubbed his cock and palmed his balls, biting his lip and thinking of the voice in his head. "Feel good?" "...Fuck you." "Keep one hand on your cock, let the other drift down a little." "Look, I already know it feels good there." "Good for you. Now push farther down." "Uh huh..." "Keep going," Gen already knew where Meitou was directing him. "Look, I don't know," "If you want to stop, then stop. But I promise I'll make you feel so fucking good..." Gen wasn't sure what the hell he was doing, following the instructions of a pervert in his ear, but he definitely wanted to feel good. He leant his head back against the wall and pushed down, down, so that his fingertip rested over his asshole. He'd always wondered what it might feel like, and this was as good an excuse as any to try it out. "Circle there, gently, don't rush, get used to how it feels. Keep working your cock. Now ease in, just your fingertip at first. This is getting you wet, isn't it?" 128

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"...Fuck off..." "Push in a bit farther, and it'll start to get good. You're hot inside, aren't you? Hot and soft and tight—" "Stop—" "I'm not doing anything. I'm just talking. How deep are you now?" "Second...second joint..." "Push all the way in, up to the knuckle. Move about, in and out if you want to, like someone was fucking you." "I don't want to be fucked." "You're breathing far too heavily for me to believe that. Slip another finger in." "Mmn..." "You'll want to be sitting for the next part. Slide down the wall until your ass reaches the floor, don't take your fingers out, don't take your hand away from your cock." "What now?" Gen hated how needy he sounded, to a guy who had intruded on his privacy, to a guy he couldn't even begin to like, but fuck it, he was too hot to care and everything about the situation felt far too good. "Push in and out, keep up with the rhythm on your cock; you must be about ready to explode now..." "Shit... 'm coming..." "Stop." "Fuck..." "You want to come?" "Yeah," "Take your hand off your cock." "Huh?" 129

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"Take your hand off your cock, keep working inside. Now curl your fingers towards you. Just keep pressing. You'll find it." "I don't..." "You will." "Oh, fuck." "Press there. Circle your fingers and massage that spot. How does it feel?" Was this what it was like? Was this how it had felt for Meitou when he was getting fucked by Therse? "I want...to touch..." "Go ahead." "I'm leaking...every time I move...I'm so fucking wet..." Was this how it might feel if he... "See, I told you it would be worth it." "I want to come." "By all means, don't let me stop you." It was, without a doubt, the single most intense sexual experience of his life up to that point. White flames tripped up his spine and fanned out, forcing spasms through his muscles wherever they touched, molten pleasure sending tremors through his groin and hips with each throbbing pulse of ejaculation. When he was spent, it felt like the orgasm had lasted forever, and he slumped over against the corner of the shower in exhaustion, throat hoarse from shouting. He shuddered as he pulled his fingers out of his ass, breathing hard. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone—"

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"I've really got far better things to do, and besides, everyone else already does it, Gen. I think you've got some catching up to do. See you." **** "Well, I hope you're fucking enjoying yourself." "I am, thanks," Meitou said, not looking up from his screen of military briefings. He knew full well the AI wouldn't leave it at that, but he couldn't resist the chance to get a shot in before it launched into what he was sure would be a tirade of moaning. "I've had the displeasure of the company of some real weirdos over the years, but this fucker takes the biscuit." "This ship's AI, you mean?" "Doesn't even have the decency to sit quietly while I get on with things; it's rattling around in the background, simply refusing to play nice." "Wouldn't you be pissed if someone hacked your systems and imprisoned you in your own mind-state?" "Yes—that goes without saying—but I wouldn't be dumb enough to let it happen in the first place." "Uh huh." The ship either didn't detect his sarcasm or decided to ignore it. "It's not like I didn't give it fair warning. It had at least five nanoseconds to comply with my request—more than ample—so it only has itself to blame for this situation." Meitou let the screen drop into his lap. "Why did you resort to imprisonment? It's a bit much, if you ask me." 131

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"It refused point blank to make the required changes to its engines, said everything had to be maintained as it was. If I hadn't done the dirty on it, we'd never make it in time." "So really you were just pissed that a Navy AI was giving you the runabout." "That has nothing to do with anything. It's just...process, that's all. And now it won't shut the hell up. It's like if you were sharing your head with a screaming two-year-old." "What's wrong with it? Can't you shut it down?" "I'm pushing it with imprisonment. If I knocked it out— which technically I could, and at this moment that seems like a very attractive solution—I'd be stepping into very hot water. Accession codes are only for use under extreme circumstances." "I had no idea you were such a moderate." "It just keeps wailing on and on about the sodding plants in the biohabitat, wanting me to let it out so it can make sure they're cared for properly." "Weird." "Like I said." "Well, each to their own, I guess." "That's not the weirdest thing though." "Oh?" "I've been digging around in its records—it used to be a warship, retired and decommissioned about four years ago after it went AWOL for a while." "That would explain why everything on board is ancient. Why was it on the run?" 132

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"No idea. Spent its time collecting samples of plant life from a number of systems and even some previously uncharted ones. The contents of the biohab are the fruits of its eccentric labor." "I'm guessing that's why it got decommissioned when they eventually found it, then." "Can't let a crazy plant-loving gunship wander free as is when you can't predict what it's thinking. They decided to let it keep its 'garden' so long as it gave up its weaponry and agreed to be relegated from a front-line warship to a glorified transport on a route that's rarely ever used. "It actually prefers it when no one's on board. As far as it's concerned we're all intruding, even the two Navy personnel. Whom it particularly doesn't like, by the way, because they have the audacity to eat the edible fruits of its selective breeding experiments. I tried to explain why selective breeding for taste and texture would be meaningless if they were never to be eaten, but—well, you try arguing subjectives with a screaming two-year-old." "Any idea why plants?" "Not a clue. It's already opened up three levels to cultivate the larger species, though. I had a look at its schematics and the habitat is twenty times larger than it needs to be to fulfill the oxygen requirements of this vessel at full capacity. The more I find out, the sweeter that accession code's starting to look." "Oh, would you stop whining; it's unbecoming of an artificial intelligence." 133

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"Better artificial than superficial," came the ship's rebuttal. Meitou tutted. The room's comms unit chirped on the far wall. "Who is it?" "Therse," the ship said. "Want me to connect it?" "Sure. Audio only though, I can't be bothered to get up." There was a noise as the call connected. "Therse, what can I do for you?" "Hey Meitou. Any idea why I can't get through to Gen?" Meitou pursed his lips, remembering that he'd had the ship disconnect the comms link to Gen's quarters earlier to prevent interruption. "No idea, sorry. Anything I can help you with?" "Nah, not really, I was just..." Silence descended on the other end of the link. "Therse?" "Are you...are you in the middle of anything?" He looked at the various screens open and scattered around him and grinned. "Nope." About fifteen minutes later, the door to his quarters buzzed. By this time, he'd cleared away all his papers, stowing them neatly on the room's little desk in their secure forms. "It's open," he said, smiling at Therse as he stepped through, doors slipping closed behind him. He looked slightly nervous, deep brown eyes flicking around the room and eventually resting on Meitou. He parted his lips like he wanted to say something, then thought better of it, scratching the back of his head instead. Meitou had never known any man look so good in just plain, simple Navy fatigues. 134

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He knew what was coming, so he waited for it. Patience always paid off in his experience. "I don't mean to be presumptuous, but..." Meitou squinted at him, playing coy, forcing him to find the right words. "Do you want to fuck?" And there it was. He was actually quite glad that Therse had sought him out. He would never have admitted it, but the frisson with Gen had left him a little hot under the collar and he was eager to release some of that tension. Better to relieve it with both of them at once, but these things took time. "I thought you'd never ask." He moved across to Therse, noticing the man's breathing quicken in anticipation of what was to come. They kissed, Therse's lips hard and sweet against his, urgent and eager. Meitou found himself wondering idly just how many men Therse had been with, if he'd had to conduct his affairs under the nose of his best friend for so many long years. Then he smiled to himself, remembering that of the hundreds of men and women he'd been with, he'd only ever pondered that fact about two others. What he'd said before hadn't been facetious at all; Therse really was his type. Therse climbed on top of him as they sat back onto the bed, straddling Meitou's hips as he chased the line of Therse's jaw with hungry lips, whispering practiced words into his receptive ear. Therse shuddered in his lap, eyes screwed tightly shut and eyebrows knitted like he did when they were fucking, hands gripping Meitou's shoulders so hard his knuckles were turning white. 135

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"I want to be inside you, Therse," he uttered, tongue delving into the man's ear. Therse gasped open-mouthed, thighs spreading around him as he began to rock his hips. "I want your heat against me; I want to feel you all over me." His hand slipped up the back of Therse's shirt, gliding through the sweat along his spine, riding the tight, firm muscles that worked beneath his perfect bronzed skin. "I want to spread you and fuck you to within an inch of your life." **** Therse pulled his shirt off and ditched it onto the floor, finding Meitou's lips again, coiling his hot, wet tongue into Meitou's mouth as firm hands rode up his naked sides to find his nipples. He forced his knees down against the bed and sprang up, off his Imperial lover and away, taking some satisfaction in the simmering disappointment on Meitou's face and the large, obvious erection tenting his pants. He was just far enough away. Just far enough away to be out of arms' reach but still tantalizingly close. Just far enough away that he could jump back if Meitou moved to bring him in. It annoyed him that their encounters were so one-sided; that Meitou always had the plan, the upper hand, the control. That he was always the one spilling too much of what he considered to be the buried, guarded parts of himself when Meitou came distracting him with pleasure just long enough to poke the embers with a well-targeted stick. But he'd seen the flickers that passed over the man's face when they were together, and Meitou wasn't the only one 136

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with a tactical mind. If he was always going to make sex a battle, it was a battle Therse meant to win. He moved his hands down to the buttons of his fatigues, releasing each one slowly as Meitou watched. The man leant back on one hand and smiled at him, quite happy to let him proceed uninterrupted. He toed off his boots and stripped off his socks, then eased the fatigues down on his hips so that his dark curls could be seen above it. He flexed his torso so that it showed off his musculature and shot Meitou a look with parted lips that had charmed so many men before him. **** Meitou saw his game, eyes narrowing as his grin grew wider, simply happy just to sit back and watch the show as Therse tried to seduce him. As far as his cock was concerned, it was certainly a success. The fatigues dropped to the floor and Therse stepped free of them, standing erect in just his underwear. Meitou wanted to leap forward and run his hands up Therse's inner thighs and into his boxers as he stood there and pulled the fabric tight around his cock, but held himself in check. Finally those too were shed, and Therse was completely naked in front of him at last: tall, hard, and beautiful; the arrogant expression on his face only making him more so. Meitou wanted to hear him beg. Therse came within reach again, Meitou's hand stroking up his thigh just by the fingertips to settle on his hip as Therse sat back into his lap. Meitou looked down at him, taking him all in. Perfect broad shoulders, perfect body beneath perfect 137

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smooth, dusk skin, perfectly hard cock pressed against him. Therse had his hands by his sides as though he was a plaything waiting for Meitou to begin. He ignored Therse's needy erection and concentrated on the other erogenous zones he'd discovered during their affair: the place on his neck behind his ear that made him gasp, another just beneath his clavicle that made his breath quicken as Meitou's hands rode his back searching for the spots that made him shudder and drip. Meitou could tell from the tension in Therse's body that he was trying to resist, still determined to keep things on his terms with his total control, but that wasn't going to happen. No conquest had ever been able to resist Meitou fully, though the ones who at least attempted it were always more fun. He smiled as hands sifted into his hair and pulled him away to be met by Therse's greedy mouth as they tipped backwards. Therse's strong, muscular body flexed against him as they kissed, and it was hard for Meitou to decide where to put his hands; everywhere felt so good. He settled for one hand mostly on Therse's ass, the other on his back and up into his hair. He slipped a finger down between Therse's cheeks and felt him buck. Therse's hands were clenched in the covers above Meitou's head, eyes screwed shut as tight as his hold on the bedding. Meitou pushed his finger down further and felt the jolt in Therse's hips as he fought desperately not to tilt and offer Meitou encouragement. His losing battle was showing all over his face though, eyebrows knitted, lips full and open against 138

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Meitou's kiss and Meitou hadn't even done anything properly to him yet. Unfortunately for Therse, Meitou knew this was all a play. And also unfortunately for Therse, it was a play that never worked. Pretend to be more worked up than you are to arouse your lover in a game such as this, and all you'll ever get is just as aroused as you're pretending to be. Meitou held his cool and Therse had to keep upping the ante, biting Meitou's earlobe and grinding down against him. Meitou had to admit, being fully dressed and having a naked Navy Lieutenant rub himself all over him was certainly a highlight of even his illustrious sexual career. Therse was beginning to find a rhythm, even if it was a slow and grinding one, panting discretely as he dragged his hard cock against Meitou's. Meitou wanted nothing more than to flip him onto his back and fuck him raw, but he kept it to himself, for now. Each time Therse's ass would rise a little higher, and every time his finger would slip a little further down Therse's crack. Therse was losing this game badly. Meitou took him roughly by the hair and whispered hot words into his ear. "You're getting pre-come all over my nice clean uniform." Therse shuddered at his voice and ground down harder. Meitou's hand slipped beneath Therse, stroking his nodoubt painfully hard length as he raised his body to allow easier access, Meitou's fingertip running wet over him through his own fluids. Then down to his balls, sliding over them to feel the place behind and making him gasp. Therse acted like he wanted Meitou's fingers down further, wanted 139

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them up inside him, wanted the stretch and the pressure so badly he nearly asked for it outright. Meitou remained cool beneath him, watching him carefully and with growing amusement. Delicious expressions flickered across Therse's face as Meitou kneaded him, as he pressed and pushed at him and wrung him free of all resistance. And then finally, Therse held aloft the white flag of defeat, allowing Meitou the spoils of war. "Please," he whispered. **** Meitou's fingers pushed up into him and felt so overwhelmingly good it made his spine flex, forcing him to curl backwards. He got a better view from that position, watching Meitou's glorious smirk spread as his own cock beaded pre-come with each twist of the man's fingers inside him. Therse decided it wasn't his fault. Meitou was experienced, knew how to touch a man, to coil him almost beyond his limits, and that was hard to resist without practice. He began to let go, began to release the inhibitions that strapped him down and made his body rigid with tension. There was no longer any presumption between them, and Therse would allow himself to be pleasured. Meitou was a damn good fuck, and he was determined to enjoy it to the fullest, not having had the opportunity for anything other than a swift return of favors and quick release before. He let his head drop back as he rode down onto the fingers that thrust inside him, moaning openly as Meitou worked his 140

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prostate and milked him for all he was worth. The man's uniform would certainly be a mess in the morning. Therse was growing impatient. Fingers weren't enough any more, he wanted to be filled up by something more. He reached down and unzipped Meitou's trousers, much to Meitou's amusement, and brought out his tight, throbbing erection. Meitou lubed himself up, with normal stuff this time rather than the orgasmic gel, and held himself ready. Therse eased down onto him inch by excruciating inch, wanting to be all the way already and moving hard like his body demanded. His fingers clenched tight into Meitou's jacket as the man's hands gripped his hips, willing him on. All the way down. Therse gasped and clenched around Meitou's cock, forcing a grunt from him and making the hands on his hips grip tighter. He leaned forward, resting his palms against Meitou's chest, and started to move. It sent spurs of pleasure through them both, steadily increasing as Therse built up speed, looking down at Meitou open-mouthed as he fucked him, wanting to see him lose a bit of control from underneath. Somehow being naked and riding a clothed man felt fantastic, perhaps because Meitou looked hot as fuck spread out beneath him in that beautiful, black, tailored uniform. Apparently Meitou's thoughts were travelling along the same lines. "Shit you look hot, Navy." **** Meitou wasn't the type to be generous during sex. Usually as long as he got what he wanted, that was enough to satisfy 141

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him perfectly. But as he watched the lithe man working above him, flicking his hips and writhing, leaking like a burst pipe and squeezing, squeezing on him so hard, he decided he might be feeling that way inclined. If Therse thought his obstinance at the beginning of this encounter had been forgiven and forgotten, he was about to get a rude awakening. He seemed to have let go enough that he could enjoy a casual encounter like this and give himself up for a hard fuck, but that wasn't what he desired most, and Meitou had seen it from the very beginning. And occasionally, he could be a generous man, so Meitou decided he'd give Therse exactly what he wanted most and exactly what he was most unprepared for—a lover. Meitou moved suddenly, gripping Therse around the waist with both hands and rolling him onto his back. He stripped quickly—possibly quicker than he ever had before—and returned to that hot, inviting space. He lay down on top of Therse, stroking over him, kissing him tenderly. The effects of the change in pace were immediate and perfectly calculated. Therse was uneasy, trying to illicit movement by flicking his hips, but Meitou persisted with his sensual caress. When he finally moved it was slowly, gently. Therse couldn't look him in the eye. A hand gripped his shoulder as he traced the tip of his nose along Therse's jaw. "Stop," he was told. "Why? What's wrong?" "It feels different. You feel different." He held Therse tighter, sliding back and forth between his thighs and keeping as much bodily contact as possible so they 142

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could both feel every aspect of each movement. "But it still feels good, right?" "It feels..." Therse closed his eyes and succumbed to it, hands up into Meitou's hair and thighs wrapped around him, holding him close. It had more of an effect on Meitou than he'd anticipated and he had to shake himself out of it. "So who is it that you think of when we do this?" Therse's eyes snapped open, cheeks blushing heavily. He was right, as always, but for some reason being right didn't feel quite so rewarding this time. "What are you talking about?" "I've done this quite a bit, Therse. I can tell when someone's not totally with me." "Look, it's nothing like that; you're an incredible fuck —" "I know that, that wasn't what I was asking. What I want to know is who you're wishing I was, fucking you this good." Therse looked away. "No one, it's nothing." Meitou kissed his neck. "You remember when I asked you before, about your reasons? I'm in this for pleasure. Nothing more. I'm using you because you're hot as hell and you feel fantastic whether you're inside me or around my cock, but I don't think you're using me for the same reason. Who is he, Therse?" "Nobody special," Therse breathed, as Meitou pushed into him deep. "Think about him, fantasize for all I care. I'm getting what I need; it's only fair that you do too, right?" 143

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He gripped Therse under the ass, raising his hips smoothly and finding the position that would rub him just right. "Ah! Stop!" "Are you thinking about him? I'm him, Therse; I'm whoever you want me to be." He watched Therse's face. "You know his name?" Therse nodded, eyes screwed shut. "It's on the tip of your tongue when you come, right?" he spoke into Therse's lips. "You want so badly to scream it out but you never do, you just keep it locked away. Along with everything else." Therse's head dropped back. "I'm going to come," Meitou slowed his movements, prolonging Therse's wait for ecstasy and bringing him even closer. "Say his name, Therse, tell me who it is." "I can't," he said, almost desperate. "Yeah you can, I won't tell. It won't leave this room; I promise. Just say it, you know you want to. Who is it? Who do you want to fuck you? You can't hide behind locked doors forever, Therse. If you don't let it out now, if you don't admit what you want, the opportunity might slip by you altogether." "Don't," "Say it." "I'm going to..." "Say his name, say it; I can taste it on your lips." Therse shuddered beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to lose it. Meitou could only hope he'd be rewarded with the unlocking of another level of Therse's secured, buried inhibitions. 144

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And then he finally got what he had been waiting for. Therse held him tight, clenched around him, thrust up against him, body hot and desperate as he screamed out for Gen, yelled his name over and over, thinking of him and only him until his climax was spent. Once he came down from it he looked wretched and regretful, to the point that Meitou decided to leave it at that and withdrew. Therse looked at him, angry and embarrassed, sure that he'd given Meitou access to a secret that could be used to skewer him. Meitou caressed his chin and the expression softened slightly. "It must be frustrating for you that a perfect stranger can see what he can't." Therse said nothing. "Are you in love with him?" "That's none of your business." "Right, my apologies," he smirked and rolled off. [Back to Table of Contents]

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7: MOVING ON Gen sloped along the corridor back to the mess hall. He'd just been to his commanding officer—a short, rotund man with a shock of red hair and a fiery attitude to match—to discuss his performance. He was failing in a number of areas: engineering theory, algebra and flight physics to name a few, but was doing fine in others and he needed to pick up the balance or he would be dismissed from the training corps altogether. He'd argued that his talents in certain areas should be enough reason to keep him on, given that the areas he was falling down were not important to his planned Navy career anyway, but his arguments had fallen on stubborn, unyielding ears. He scowled as he thought about all the extra study he'd need to do, and considered asking the others for help. It might hurt his pride a little, but they were all strong in the areas he'd need tutoring so it made sense, and asking for help was certainly better for his pride than getting kicked out altogether. If he was honest, he had been taking it a little too easy; everyone else seemed to work much harder than he did, so he supposed his lack of effort was finally coming back to bite him. And the hard work of really applying himself would certainly pay off in the end if it meant he'd get to pilot. He took a detour from his route to the mess, walking instead past the massive hangars that held the fighters— somewhere he wasn't strictly supposed to be, but it didn't 146

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matter, he only wanted to take a peek. He peered in through the small square window of the hangar door. Row upon row of sleek-looking gray jets sat amongst a flurry of people; pilots in their tight vacuum suits climbing in, engineers and crew fussing around, tinkering, refueling. He felt like a little boy with his face pressed to the sweet shop window and smiled to himself. One day. All things in good time. Personnel actually destined for the hangar were starting to give him odd looks as they passed though the doors, so he figured it was time to head back. A little way down the corridor Therse rounded the corner, moving toward him. Gen felt a familiar boiling in his gut at the sight of Therse trussed up in his piloting suit from head to toe, ready to climb aboard and fly as though he was something special. Gen watched an arrogant grin settle on Therse's face. "You out here doing some wishful thinking?" Therse sneered. Somehow Gen couldn't think of an appropriate comeback. He was trying too hard not to give the bastard the satisfaction of acknowledging his suit. He said nothing and walked past as Therse watched him go. "I guess we both know that running will only get you so far," he heard Therse say behind him. "Leave the complicated stuff to the real men, okay?" "The fuck did you say?" "You know, I'm tired of having to take your shit day after day. I guess this finally proves which one of us is worth more 147

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to them, so you can quit your bitching and get on with being just another drone." "What, you think you're better than me?" "I'm pretty sure that's what this shows," Therse said, plucking the suit away from his skin. He grinned again. "This is just my first step. I do an advance year of fighter training and then graduate into Command. I'll be giving you orders in no time." Gen wasn't going to allow him the satisfaction of the final remark. "You think just because you've got high aptitude scores that people will follow you? Then shit, you're dumber than I thought." Therse scowled back at him, turned, and started to walk away. A smile fixed Gen's lips. Son-of-a-bitch thought he was so good, thought he was above everybody. Gen knew better. "But then I guess you haven't done too badly for yourself, being nothing but the beaten son of a drunk and a whore." Therse stopped. The few people milling past them sensed something was up and slowed down, glancing at them. Therse turned back to Gen. He walked over to him slowly, fists clenched at his sides, face like thunder, hands shaking. Gen folded his arms over his chest, not intimidated at all. He was proud, in a way. This was the best rise he'd ever gotten out of the man. "What are you going to do, weak-shit? Punch me?" Therse's fist smacked square into Gen's face, the force and surprise of it knocking him back. Therse grabbed him with 148

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both hands and brought them face-to-face. His features were painted with pure rage, but he spoke quietly, deliberately. "You have no fucking right, when you have no idea—" Gen shoved him off and punched him back, sending him sprawling on his arse in the corridor as confused-looking people gathered around them. Therse rolled and stood up, and made to come at him again. Gen went to meet him, not wanting to let this opportunity to kick the crap out of Therse slip away. Then something came in between them. She was facing Gen. "What the fuck are you doing?" Mal spat, eyes severe. Gen felt himself shrink slightly. "Me?" he protested. "He started with the insults." "Don't look at me like I'll give a shit, this is ridiculous. You're grown men, not children. Both of you get to the officers' rooms, now." Gen looked at her for a second, then over at Therse who was wiping the blood from his split lip. "You see that?" he said to Therse, pointing at Mal. "Doesn't matter how smart you are, how good your test scores are, you'll never command respect like that." Mal was glaring at him so hard Gen thought he might combust at any second, and did as he was told. **** Gen sighed in irritation and let his head fall back against the wall. He'd been waiting outside their commanding officer's room for nearly half an hour now. Not that he was overly 149

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eager to go back in there again after such a short space of time (receiving disciplinary action for both poor grades and fighting on the same day was a record even by Gen's standards), but the CO was sure taking his goddamn time with Therse. At first he'd strained to hear what was going on inside the room, but he couldn't make anything out so he'd given up. And now he was just sitting there, bored stupid, awaiting his reprimand. Stupid bastard, it was Therse's fault they were here, but Gen had no doubt he'd get all the blame. That was just his luck. The door opened and he sat up. Therse came out, eyes to the floor. Good, Gen thought. He wouldn't be the only one getting a firm telling-off. He watched Therse walk past, face ashen as though he'd just found out a family member had died. Gen snorted a laugh. Poor guy, probably the first time he'd been told off in his academic life, so it felt like a big deal. Therse stopped at the noise and turned back to him. He looked miserable and angry all at the same time. "You just couldn't stand it, could you?" he said. "Couldn't stand that I was good at so many things you couldn't do, that I was going somewhere and you were heading for a life of mid-level command and following other people's orders. You couldn't stand that I was about to live what you wanted so badly. Fuck you. Fuck. You." He was almost in tears. "Genham, get your dumb ass in here." Gen stood, giving Therse a brush-off look like he was overreacting, and stepped into the office. **** 150

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"Apologize to him," Byrn told him, uncompromisingly. It looked like everyone was overreacting to their little incident. They were all gathered around him, giving him shit for something he didn't even start. "Are you fucking kidding me? He hit me first." "You provoked him. Do you have any idea how much you've cost him?" Gen held his hands up. "What? So he gets told off; if he can't deal with it, not my problem." Mal was staring at him in that severe way she had again. It always made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. "He's been bunked off the fighter advance," she said, voice low and deliberate. "He won't be graduating into Command. Everything he worked so hard for has fallen down around his ears because of you." A sliver of hot guilt ran down his spine. But it didn't last long. He was still the one in the right, Therse was still the one in the wrong, it didn't change that. He shrugged. "Well, he'll just have to learn to live with it." Mal shook her head. "Gen, you're my friend and I love you, but sometimes you're such a dick I can't fucking stand you." **** Running. Always running. He could run forever and not escape what he'd done. He wished he could take it back, wished to the core of his soul that he hadn't done what he did, but it was too late for that and now he had to live with the consequences. 151

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He'd tried so hard to forget, tried so hard to pretend it didn't mean anything, but it did. He was so tired. Tired of running, tired of lying to himself, tired of seeing Gen's oblivious face every day. The jungle was his prison, his tormentor, witness to his trespass, endless and dark and unforgiving. It clawed at his body, sucked at his feet, dragged him down and held him to await retribution. He was sick to his stomach with guilt, stuck through with fear as footsteps approached him. Tears streamed down his cheeks through the mud and bloodied dirt caked to his face. He screamed for forgiveness, but no sound would come from his lungs. Gen just stared back at him, face twisting into disgust. The jungle shook him but he fought it, desperate to get to Gen and make everything okay again. Therse woke with a start, staring straight into Meitou's eyes. Meitou looked unusually concerned. "What was that about?" Therse looked away, breathing hard. He could feel Meitou's naked body up against him, warm and soft and real, hands holding him firmly around the shoulders. "Nothing." "You were screaming." Therse ran a hand up Meitou's torso and leaned in to kiss him. "Like I said, it was nothing," he said, pulling at Meitou to maneuver him on top. He took the hint with a raised eyebrow. "You're eager this morning. Maybe I want to find out about that dream after all." 152

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"You talk far too much," Therse told him, threading fingers into his hair and kissing him deep. He contorted his spine, raising his body encouragingly against Meitou as he spread his thighs around him. He just wanted to feel something other than self-loathing. In a way, Meitou made the perfect distraction. Therse opened his eyes to look at him and felt the delightful spilling of lust. Their arrangement was so wonderfully simple. Then he noticed it, and his eyes sprang wide. The little machine was hovering about a meter away from the bed. "What the fuck is that?" he exclaimed, gripping Meitou's shoulder as he looked over. Meitou seemed less than impressed, but not worried in the slightest. "Oh. What do you want?" he asked it. "I'm kind of in the middle of something here." "Apologies, but our rendezvous is here, so if you would kindly," it tilted in the air as though searching for words. "uncouple, we can be on our way." Meitou sighed. "Can you just go away please? You're ruining the mood." "Sorry I've interrupted your fun, Commander," it spat and bobbed sulkily away. "'Commander'?" Therse repeated, staring at him. Meitou looked at least a little guilty. "What? You can't seriously be that surprised I didn't tell you the whole truth. You're not that naive." Therse supposed he was right. "You have to leave right now?" 153

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"I've probably got another five minutes before it gets seriously pissed at me. Let's make the most of them, eh?" **** Therse sat up, naked under the sheets as he watched Meitou dress. The Imperial turned to him and smiled, then leant down to kiss him. "Therse, it's been a hell of a lot of fun knowing you." "I take it I shouldn't expect to see you again." "Probably not. But then, we both know I'm not the one you really want anyway." "What if I can't have what I really want?" "Are you sure that this isn't what you really want? Without unnecessary complications you get to swan off to Navy Command and never look back. Won't it be easier if there's nothing to keep you here?" "I guess." "Of course, there's always the outside chance that you'll end up with everything you've ever wanted. Just keep in mind that this is probably the last opportunity you'll get to tell him how you feel, so if you're going to do it at all..." But Therse knew he could never tell Gen the truth about how he felt. About the sleepless nights, and the aching want, and the light feeling that came from simply being near to him. The only thing he could do was keep it stuffed down along with everything else. It should be simple; he'd been doing it his whole life. Just locking away his feelings and moving forward. 154

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"Why didn't you tell him you were gay?" Meitou had stopped dressing and was scrutinizing him closely. "You couldn't have been planning to keep it to yourself forever." "It had nothing to do with him. Or any of them. It doesn't change who I am." Meitou looked him over. His expression was colored by pity. "You're trying so hard to stop your sexuality from defining you that you hid a part of who you are from the people closest to you." Therse said nothing, and looked away. There was a soft sound of fabrics moving as Meitou came closer again, the sheets shifting as he sat on the bed beside Therse. "Or maybe that has nothing to do with it either," Meitou said, brushing the hair back from Therse's face. "Maybe not telling them was just another way of creating distance between you and everyone else. So if they hurt you, that's okay, because they never really knew you." **** On his way back to his own ship, a thought occurred to Meitou. He brought out the little nanomachine transceiver tucked away in his pocket and held it to his lips. "Gen." "What. Shit, this thing's still in my ear?" "I'll disable it when I'm done talking to you. You'll be pleased to know, I'm leaving now." "Oh?" "Don't try to hide your delight or anything." "I won't. Bye then." 155

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"Wait a second, I'm not done yet." "What?" "It's a shame we didn't have more time to get to know one another. A real shame. I hope you figure out why it is that you're so mad at me, because you're missing a treat." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Therse." "I still have no idea what you're getting at." "Jesus, you're so fucking blind. Look, I know it might be difficult, but have a good think —" "Fuck you." "— about what you really want." There was silence on the other end. "Because, goddamn, I've been with a lot of people in my time, and he's one of the best I've ever had. I can't even begin to imagine how good he fucks with someone he loves." "Wha —?" He hung up and set off the little machine's self-destruct sequence, tossing it over his shoulder. After a couple of seconds, there was a sharp 'pop' behind as it disintegrated. The nanode in Gen's ear would be useless now and would decay over time. "You're a shit, you know that, right?" the ship told him, through the shiny machine-representative hovering at head height beside him. He tutted. "Please, I'm doing them a favor. And anyway, it's all your fault for being too efficient. I would have had more time to play, otherwise. I was this close to having them both...although, I never did figure out what holds them 156

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together so tightly. As far as I can see, there's nothing to explain it, and yet the tension between them is almost palpable." He thought for a second. He hated unfinished business. "Eh, I still had a good time regardless." "Are you jealous?" the ship asked him, a flavor of mockery in its voice. "Will their AI be okay?" he said, ignoring the question. "Yeah, it'll be fine, I'm letting it out now. It's pretty pissed, though." "No shit." "And it's seriously annoyed about the improvements I made to its engines. How ungrateful." **** Therse peered into the mess hall, finding Gen staring into space, head tipped towards the ceiling, fingers interlocked over his chest. He felt bad for leaving it so long to confront him, and wasn't really sure why he'd left it until now. He supposed now Meitou was gone there was nothing left to hide behind. He smiled sadly. Gen looked just as beautiful as ever. He glanced over as Therse crossed the hall. Therse was trying to think on where to start with an apology, but Gen butted in before he could speak. "About time you showed up," he said, scowling. Therse's resolve to apologize evaporated. "That's how this is going to go, huh?" "The fuck else did you expect? I'm surprised you even remembered I'm on this ship at all." 157

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"Well, excuse me for taking an opportunity to enjoy myself aboard this dull-ass tin can." "I'm glad one of us did. Being that this was your fucking idea and all, and I just went along with it. Didn't realize it'd mean getting frozen out while you fucked around with your friggin' boy-toy." "Yeah and you know what? It was great. Fucking great. Best time I've had in ages. Consider this payback for all those years I had to watch from the sidelines as you screwed your way through half the female population and not being able to say a damn thing about how I felt!" "What?" "I...that I was gay." "Whatever." Therse turned to leave. He wanted to make this all okay, wanted to apologize and put things right, but Gen just made that so fucking difficult sometimes. "You accepted that Command post yet?" He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yeah, actually, I have." "Well, best of fucking luck." [Back to Table of Contents]

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8: ADVERSITY STRENGTHENS THE FOUNDATIONS INCOMING] S-Aero-Recon to Jetty, we are delta-ninerniner on approach, preparing to drop payload, over. OUTGOING[ SAR this is Jetty Command alpha-six-one, you are go for launch, repeat, go for launch, over. ] SAR to Jetty, launching now. Payload should reach upper atmosphere in t-minus three minutes. [ Received and understood. Standing by. ] SHIT! Delta-niner-niner code one! We're hit! We're hit! Where the fuck did that come from? [ Delta-niner-niner this is Jetty— ] Where the fucking shit is it coming from? [—what is your situation, over? ] We're hit! We're hit! Sustained fire, starboard side; can't tell if it's orbital or planetary! We're venting atmosphere, pressure dropping in all sectors...one payload terminated! [ What is the status of the five remaining, over? ] Oh fuck, oh fuck we're ripped to shreds... [ Delta-niner-niner what is the status of the five remaining units, over? ] Still alive. Breach in unit one, coupling link's shot through between three and four. We're losing altitude, please advise, over! ] Jetty this is delta-niner-niner, losing altitude and need urgent assistance, over. [ This is Jetty. Your re-entry angle is too shallow, you must adjust by ten degrees to avoid burning up, over. 159

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] We can't, our foils are destroyed! [ Are you still receiving fire? ] Negative! [ Are you able to launch units four to six, over? ] Affirmative, what is your advice on our re-entry angle, over? [ Delta-niner-niner you will jettison units four to six, over. ] It is our understanding that will make our re-entry angle shallower, over. ] Jetty, this is delta-niner-niner, please respond, over. [ That is correct. You will jettison units four to six, over. ] Repeat, if we do that, we will burn up in the upper atmosphere, over! [ That is correct. You are ordered to jettison units four to six, over. ] Fuck you! Fuck! You! [ Delta-niner-niner this is Jetty Command, the success of this mission is paramount to security in this sector. You will follow orders and release units four, five, six, over. [ Delta-niner-niner this is Jetty, respond, over. [ Delta-niner-niner this is Jetty, respond, over. [ Initiating override sequence; forced jettison of SAR combat units Four through Six, effective in 3,2,1, **** Therse woke, drowsy at first, to a shrill noise he couldn't place. It was oscillating, blaring, resounding inside his head, poking at his brains like a spiked ball had become stuck in there and was rattling off the walls of his skull. His 160

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surroundings, whatever those were, were shaking violently even though he was held fast. The blaring noise was the fighter module's alarm. The whole craft was dark, and vibrating as though it could come apart at any moment. Red and amber flashing warnings spilled across his visor display too fast for him to even read them. He was having trouble piecing together what had gotten him here in the first place. It was as though his memories were made of mist—they had become intangible; wispy and uncertain as he sifted through them, and the harder he looked, the brighter he shone the torch, the less he could see. It began to come back to him—he recalled something about a top-secret mission to eliminate a raider base, about being selected for it because he was one of the best fighter pilots in the system, going on sims alone. And now he was in an actual jet module, experiencing operational flight for the first time, and it was clear something had gone horribly wrong. Why the mission was covert hadn't made sense to him at the time, and it made even less to him now—they hadn't been ordered to do anything outside the usual scope for dealing with raiders, they were just going for the standard scoop and drop; the only thing out of the ordinary was that one of the sector's rebel leaders was reported to be hiding out here. Perhaps there was a Navy informant and things had to be dealt with as swiftly and silently as possible. But none of this explained why he'd been unconscious, why his fighter was about to come apart at the seams, or why there was no contact with either the recon vessel that was 161

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supposed to drop them or Jetty. He gave up trying, remembering they were to hold radio silence until the mission was complete anyway. One thing he did know: the shuddering was bad. He could be in the upper atmosphere already, descending on Yemis and not even be aware of it. He cursed himself for his slow, woolen mind and began absorbing, linking his mind to that of the fighter's low-level AI as quickly as possible. He went up through the various levels of integration simply by thinking himself deeper into the AI's consciousness, until finally he could see what was going on outside through all of its sensory arrays. He felt the pit of his stomach drop away at the sight of the blue-green orb nearly filling his perspective, Yemis rising calmly, silently to meet him. He was in the planet's atmosphere and falling fast. He realized one of the most insistent warnings on his visor was counting down to impact: three minutes and thirty-two seconds until he was just a bleak stain on the planet's lush scenery. This was nothing like in the sims, even the worst ones where your death was imminent and the situation was designed cruelly so that you would always fail, always end up as nothing more than a drifting blast radius on the skein of space; even then you always had a thread holding you back safely in reality, and you knew you wouldn't come to any actual harm. But here if he didn't do something fast, he was going to die. A sharp prick in the soft tissues of his arm and he 162

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snapped fully awake, coursing with the cocktail of adrenaline and whatever other stimulants the suit had injected into him. He deployed some of the module's fins, hoping to slow his descent, and it worked for a time; the readings on his velocity meter dropping slightly until the fins tore off and he sped up again. He cursed bitterly, dragging over the drugged confines of his thick mind for possible solutions, trying to ignore the sheer terror gripping his gut as he hurtled towards the planet's surface. He knew the module. All he had to do was think things through calmly, methodically. He was trained for the unexpected. This was just like any other situational puzzle and needed to be solved with the same mixture of inspiration and intuition he was so well-known for. He checked the module's systems and found that the fighter was still in its dormant transport state—a smooth, featureless ellipse. Fighters were kept that way for ease of dropping from orbit to atmosphere without losing vital pieces, but it looked like something had gone wrong during the drop. His angle was all wrong, his descent far too fast, but the fighter was still completely intact, which meant he stood a chance of surviving. The next problem was how to go about deploying the rest of the fighter body—wings and tail and streamlining were all housed in the chassis of the ellipse, but his experience with the fins told him he was dropping too fast and if he sprang the whole lot they'd just burn up in the same way. He needed a way to slow himself enough that he could deploy safely, but he couldn't think of anything. The fins were 163

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gone. Safety chutes would be useless at this velocity. Nothing he could think of stood a remote chance of working. Unless... He initiated the sequence for deploying the wings, but told the module to hand over manual control of the process to him. Gradually, steadily, he eased out the wings on either side, hoping with all that he had that this would work. It had to; the planet filled his vision now. He almost cried with relief when his velocity began to stabilize. Flicking the wings out immediately would almost certainly have destroyed them. But he was gradually slowing, inching the wings out and steadily taking control back. There was an explosion above him, taking him by gutwrenching surprise, displayed on the screen with an aura of orange and gold. The module told him in polite blue-text that what now remained had been one of the other units. Then it suddenly hit him that he had no idea where the others were. There should have been six of them falling together, in formation, preparing to swoop in and strike the base, but the rest were nowhere to be seen. He told the module to track the signatures of any Navy craft in the vicinity. It found only one, about a kilometer off to his starboard side. Something had gone horribly wrong. The module couldn't locate any other vessels besides that one, but there was plenty of low-orbiting debris scattered in the upper atmosphere. There was a life sign in the other unit, but it was weak. And then he remembered. Genham had been one of the other five pilots. 164

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He hated how much the thought affected him, that Genham might be dead. That right now he might be strewn in a million different pieces over the planet's orbital field, his end so sudden and brutal. He also hated how the module could show him explicitly how he was reacting, forcing him to face up to it. Why the fuck did it matter if the bastard was dead anyway? Therse hated him more than anything, so good riddance. But still, he found he couldn't help but hope that the only remaining module carried the rude piece-of-shit son-of-abitch he detested so deeply rather than one of the unknown pilots who'd been assigned along with them. To hope he'd survived, to even be interested in the possibility of him making it alive was more than Genham deserved by any stretch of the imagination. Therse watched the unit closely all the same, circled by a red indicator on the module's interface telling him it was falling much too fast. It was pulling away from him as his craft began to slow, hurtling at a ridiculous velocity, beginning to pitch and turn in the atmosphere due to unequal resistances over the hull. He decided to break radio silence and signaled the module, but there was no response. Then something tore from the other module, ripped away and disintegrated in the atmosphere like it was made of glitter. Therse bitterly hoped that hadn't been the vessel's fuselage. He was in enough trouble as it was without spending what could be his precious last moments worrying about someone else, but somehow he 165

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couldn't just let it go. The other module was in a bad way, with no sign of recovery. Therse knew he at least had a chance. He tried again to get through, sending out a crossbandwidth signal to the unit's AI to see if he could patch through and take control of that, too, but to no avail. The module was a dead duck, careening hopelessly towards Yemis with a half-dead pilot inside. Therse swore and hammered against the harness, his stress neurotransmitter levels shooting through the roof. All he could do was sit there and watch as the thing prepared to smash into the planet. It was just a speck now, and he had problems of his own. His unit's descent was slowing, but he didn't have overall control. He was still going to crash. He adjusted the position of the module, the craft slowly complying to his commands under the sheer force of atmospheric resistance until it was belly-down to the planet's surface, the exposure of a larger surface area shaving off a precious little bit more of his velocity. Now he just had to hope for a soft landing. He willed the pilot of the other unit to find a way, willed him to wake up and take control and save himself, but nothing changed, and it just kept on falling faster as Therse himself slowed. If Genham wasn't already dead, and he was in there, Therse was about to watch his brutal end. He plotted its trajectory in his mind. They were both headed for the depths of the jungle—at his speed he might make it, the trees might cushion the impact enough if he tried to land as broad-sided as possible, but the other pilot didn't 166

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stand a chance. Then as he watched the ground come up to meet them, he noticed a slim possibility of survival appear—a lake. Wide and blue, expanding out underneath the other unit, almost like a glove spreading to catch it; he saw the impact, the displacement of water that followed it, and felt utter relief—now he just had to make it himself. He felt the pit of his stomach drop away as the ground rushed upwards, the smudge of green and brown resolving with terrifying speed into the recognizable shapes of treetops. Less than five seconds to impact. He tensed in the harness and screwed his eyes shut, wanting to use what could be his last moments contemplating something profound, but nothing was forthcoming amongst the panic. The first impact forced the breath out of him, the smack of the module into the ground sending his body into numbing shock as the restraints designed to keep him safe battered and bruised his soft flesh. Sheer terror gripped him whole, convincing him the world was about to collapse in around him, making him expect every moment to be his last, awaiting the terrible pain of the module crushing in around him, snapping his bones like twigs and squashing him until he burst open. But the vibrations settled, the shuddering slowed, and then everything was still around him. He cracked open one eye, then opened them both, gasping for air after realizing he'd been holding his breath. 167

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Everything around him was a wreck, the screen bent and buckled in front of him, wires and tubes and electrical units detached and dangling around him like streamers, but somehow the outer structure of the module had held. He laid his head back against the harness, about ready to cry with relief. He remembered the other unit and panic filled him up again. He desorbed and wrenched himself free of the harness. The module door hissed open but didn't go anywhere, blocked by things on the outside. He knew he was being reckless, not checking the gas composition of the atmosphere first, but right now he didn't care. It was breathable, and that was all that mattered. He needed to get to the other module. He rammed his shoulder into the door, shoving at it in sheer desperation until whatever was on the other side finally relented and let him free, tumbling out into the churned, broken earth. He paid his surroundings little attention, clambering over them, slipping and falling and scrambling down the mess of dirt and trees and foliage towards the marker showing on his little visor. As he neared the lake everything became sodden and squelching beneath his feet, drenched from the water displacement that had followed the module impact, branches and loose debris piled up everywhere, left dammed up against the huge protruding tree roots as the waters had receded. He broke the cover of the jungle and splashed out into the lake itself, wading in deep with frustrating slowness, then breaking into a swim, diving down in the direction of the marker. 168

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He spotted the module, down in the depths, a crater surrounding the impact site. The air-inflated buffers had deployed and now drifted, emptied, around the ovuloid shape like ghostly apparitions. The unit looked intact, at least from the outside. Inside could be a different matter altogether. He wriggled his way back to the surface, toward the light, as fast as possible and heaved in a huge breath, flipping over and diving again, propelling himself back down. He shoved at the massive deflated balloons, wafting them out of the way and reaching for the module's door. The door panel was broken, but that came as no surprise. Therse dug his fingers into the emergency handle holster and pulled with every ounce of strength he could muster, using his legs on the module's hull for leverage, his muscles screaming in protest until finally the seal broke. Trapped air bubbled past him out of the cavity as he swung the door fully open. Inside, Gen was drifting peacefully in the harness. Therse felt a surge of relief flood through him, though now wasn't the time to stop and think about why. Sure, Gen had made it down in one piece, but there was no guarantee he was even still alive. The module was twisted and buckled inside, and it was a miracle Gen hadn't been crushed entirely. He grabbed the knife from his boot and set about cutting Gen free from the wires and straps that held him in place. And then he noticed. Gen's leg was trapped under a part of the module that had crumpled inwards. He followed the leg down with his hand, trying to feel if there was a way to pull it out, locking his fingers under Gen's foot and pulling as hard as he dare, lungs 169

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bursting, gritting his teeth as he finally worked it free. Blood poured from a gash on Gen's leg, clouding the water with thick red. The sight stirred an uncomfortable and long repressed memory, and he felt it slither black and terrible across his consciousness. He looked to Gen's face, eyes closed and at peace, hair haloed around his face. Just like his mother had been, in the bath when he'd found her. He blinked and shook himself free of it, grabbed Gen around the waist and pushed himself towards the open door, then swimming out, up, as fast as was possible, lungs screaming for air until finally he breached the surface, gasping, water streaming down over his face. He held Gen tight and kept his chin above the lake, swimming backwards with him, a growing panic in his chest that Gen needed to breathe and couldn't. Therse hefted him onto the sandy bank of the slightlydrained lake, choking out water and gasping for air as he dragged himself out alongside. Gen just lay there, still, limp. Therse grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him desperately, searching his slack face for signs of life, not knowing what else to do. He tilted Gen's body so he was face down and patted his back vigorously. Gen awoke with a start, coughing up lake so violently he nearly vomited. Therse kept a hand at his shoulder, waiting for him to calm down, trying to ignore the flush of relief near overwhelming him. Then he looked down. Gen's leg was a bloodied mess around the ankle. 170

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Regaining control of his racking cough, spitting, probably to get the foul taste out of his mouth, Gen seemed to realize that he wasn't where he thought he ought to be. He noticed the grip on his shoulder and spun around, wincing as the motion sent pain shooting up his leg. Therse pulled back and they stared at one another for a moment. "What the hell happened?" Gen said, glaring at Therse with great suspicion and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "No idea. When I woke up we were already falling," Therse told him, looking around the still lake. "We're the only ones who survived it." Gen just stared at him. "The others must have burned up in re-entry. I...I watched one of them explode in the upper atmosphere." He glanced down at Gen's leg and swallowed, reaching to peel back the suit around it. "We need to get that splinted or something." Gen brushed him off. "Fuck off, I'm fine." "Some thanks I get for saving your fucking life, bastard." "Well, if you were doing it for thanks you needn't have bothered at all," Gen spat, rolling himself over onto the grassy verge just above the bank and sitting up. Therse ground his teeth. Even now Gen was determined to be an asshole. "Doesn't change the fact that we're in this situation now," he said. "I need to check my ship, salvage what I can if it's a wreck." "Whatever." His ship had been in worse shape than he'd expected. Trees were felled all around the little craft, almost buried under charred foliage at the end of a long scar through the jungle. He could crack the door just wide enough to get back 171

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in and foraged through the churned insides of the vessel for anything salvageable or worth salvaging. There wasn't much. A few emergency food rations, a stub projectile pistol and an energy rifle, some basic medical supplies and whatever he had on his person were all they had between them. When he returned to the lakeside, Gen was trying to stand. He tossed a medpack over to him. "At least fix yourself up if you're not going to let me do it." He could feel the heat of Gen's glare on his back as he laid everything else they had out on the grass, but at least he wasn't too stubborn to use it. Therse heard him suck in breath as discretely as possible as he set about tending to the wound. "We need to get moving," Gen muttered. "There's no way our descent will have gone unnoticed." Therse swung round on his haunches. "That all depends on you. Can you walk?" Gen scowled at him, injecting a hypo of painkillers into his thigh. "I can walk." He put a hand down to support himself and stood awkwardly, apparently embarrassed and irritated that he was in such a bad way but determined not to let Therse see the worst of it. "Need a hand?" Therse said anyway, stepping over to him. He was shoved away again. "Which direction?" Gen said, trying to contain the strain in his voice. "I need to figure out where we are first." Gen slumped back against the grassy bank as Therse returned to his salvage pile and fetched over a topography 172

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holo, unraveling it over the sand like a piece of rolled-up paper. The geography of the mission sprang into relief on the little map, drawn by horizontal greenish-pink lines stacked above one another. Their target was indicated by a flashing red blob at the center of it all. "Show current coordinates," he told it. The map shifted, rises of mountains whizzing past as it adjusted, then stopped. They were forty kilometers from their objective. "Fuck," Therse muttered, running a hand into his still-damp hair. "We can still pull this off," Gen told him. "How? Your ship's a write-off; there's no way I can get mine airborne in time, it'll take weeks to fix." "We walk." "What?" "We walk the thirty-eight-point-one klicks to this ridge here." Gen pointed at a rise on the map, finger slipping through the holographic contours. "If we don't have the option of tactical strike from air, we'll just have to do it from the ground instead. From here we'll have a perfect view of their base, providing intel is correct. Just give me a gun; I'll shoot this fucker myself." Therse had to admit he was a little impressed by the man's bravado, but ultimately it was a flawed idea. "That's impossible, given the state your leg's in." "I told you," Gen grunted, shoving himself upright again, trying to hide the pain Therse knew he must be in. "I'm fine." It was still a bad idea. Therse shook his head. "We should find somewhere high-up, send a comms burst, and wait for 173

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re-enforcements," he said, looking around and trying to gauge the best peak in their immediate vicinity. Gen put his hands on his hips and leaned on his good leg. "Jetty won't be sending re-enforcements. We're not even supposed to be here, remember? This is off-record." Therse considered that for a moment. "Why do you think that is, exactly?" Gen shrugged. "Not our place to know." "Look, I'm sure if they find out what's happened —" "No one's coming, Therse. No one's going to come, no matter how loud you shout. If they were, they'd be here already. Jetty's a whole system away, SAR could have burned up in the atmosphere for all we know. We don't have the first fucking clue what's going on. We're on our own here." Therse turned away, running his hands through his hair. He hated it, but Gen was absolutely right. "So the only thing we can do," Gen grunted slightly, shifting his weight and testing out his injured leg, "is complete the mission." Therse looked back at him; tall and proud despite the hideous situation they were in. There was something about Gen's confidence that put him at ease, even though he still hated the bastard. They needed to work together if they were going to survive this. He relented. "All right." **** The day was heating up, and the going was getting tougher. Therse peered back at Gen. He was trying his best not to let the pain show, but their progress had been 174

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incredibly slow even with all the pain meds pumping through his system. "We need to make at least five-k by nightfall," Therse announced. "What's your point?" Gen spat, sullen and irritable, a sheen of sweat glossing his face. Therse stopped and turned back to him. "My point is that we've still got three-k to go, and the sun's going to start setting soon." Gen stopped moving altogether. "Well, fuck you. You try getting through this shit," he said, whacking the thick foliage they were wading through, "with a busted leg." "I'm just saying, this is the flaw in your plan." Gen limped past him, using a thick stick for support. "We just need to get there; I'll blow his brains out, mission complete, sector saved, everything's fine." Therse watched him go. "What do we do after that? If no one's coming for us." Silence. "We can think about that after." **** Gen was in a bad way. Therse had to admire the man's grit and determination, if nothing else. They were settling down for the night in the shelter of a huge moss-covered tree-root, Gen struggling to find a comfortable position to lie in as Therse checked their progress beside him in the near-darkness. He sighed and snapped the map away. It wasn't looking good. 175

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He turned to Gen and considered the risks involved in offering him a hand. Suddenly a huge burst of light filled the air, shining impossibly bright even through the dense jungle and forcing them both to cover their eyes. There was just enough time for them to exchange a dumbfounded look before the noise and the blast wave hit, buffeting the air about them as the floor shook violently, sending birds and other flying animals screaming into the night, ripping debris from the jungle canopy and dropping it to the ground. A huge branch fell right beside them, narrowly missing Gen's leg. "What the fuck was that?" Gen said, eyes wide. Therse stood up, thinking fast. Gen said something else to him, but it was drowned out by another round of detonations. Therse had an inkling as to what it might be. It was coming from the direction they were heading, and there was only one thing he could think of in that direction worth bombing. He peered up the tree they had made camp against, trying to determine in the dim light if it was climbable. "What? You thinking of going up there?" "I need to go take a look. Stay there," he said, then realized how redundant that was. Even in the gloom he could tell Gen was giving him a sarcastic look. "You know what I mean." He started to climb, cursing his lack of upper-body strength as he grabbed at branches, vines, whatever he could reach. He just hoped none of what he reached for was alive and mobile. 176

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Eventually he climbed high enough to be able to see out over the valley ahead of them. Everything was burning, massive white flames raging up the mountainside, scorching it in a roaring, twisting inferno. He'd never seen anything that could do that. Gen shouted up at him but Therse ignored his calls, unable to do anything beyond simply stare. At the rate the fire was moving it would reach them within half an hour, and it had taken them all day to get this far from the lake. He might not be able to make it on his own, but at least he stood a better chance. Why, then, was it something he couldn't even begin to consider? "What is it? What do you see? Damn it, Therse!" Gen yelled, jostling him back to reality. "The base," he said, hearing the distance in his own voice. "Everything...the whole damn gully's lit up." "What does that mean?" He was about to make some attempt at a response when there was another huge detonation over the valley, this time without any burst of light. Therse removed his arm from in front of his eyes with caution, and for a horrifying moment he thought he might have gone blind. Then he realized it was simply that the fires had been put out. Something ripped unseen through the sky at what felt like just above his head, scaring the shit out of him and making him lose purchase. He yelped, flinging his arms around the trunk of the tree and holding on for dear life. "Therse?" There was concern in Gen's voice. 177

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"I'm fine, just, whatever that was took me by surprise is all. It put out the fires, though." "Well, get your ass down before you actually fall off the damn tree then." Therse smiled to himself, but it was short lived. He began to make the descent and dropped back exhausted to join Gen at the base of the tree, leaning on his knees. It had certainly been a tiring day. Gen was chewing on something, staring up at him through the gloom. "Were they ours?" he asked, referring to the craft that had made the swoop-and-drop. "I really don't think so. Didn't sound like any Navy fighter I know of. I have no idea what the fuck is going on." "What the hell do we do now?" Gen muttered through a mouthful. Therse lay back beside him. He was expecting Gen to rip into him for nearly losing his balance, but he didn't. "We can figure that out in the morning." He rubbed at an irritated spot just below the neck line of his suit. Felt like something had bit him. **** When Therse awoke, Gen was still sleeping soundly right next to him, hands tucked up under his chin, the cold dew of morning still settled against his warm skin. Therse allowed himself a moment just to watch him, breathing serenely through parted lips, eyes tracking things in his dream. Asleep, Gen looked different. His face seemed gentler somehow. More vulnerable. It was hard to believe from looking at him now 178

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just how big of an asshole he really was. Or rather, in that peaceful state, it was easier to believe he wasn't one at all. Therse shook himself out of it and looked around. The morning air was still and thick with mist. The only shapes he could make out were the huge tree trunks that towered above them, and even they were swallowed by it to an extent. He listened hard, trying to hear anything like the sounds of fighting in the distance. After the attack on the raider base last night they hadn't heard anything else, but he would have expected whoever was doing the bombing to swing by in the morning to check things out in daylight. Perhaps they hadn't arrived yet. Less optimistically and probably more likely, there wasn't anything left to come and see. Still, their best hope of escape still lay ahead of them down the valley. He turned his attentions to Gen's leg, leaning forward as quietly as possible to take a proper look at it while Gen was still unconscious. The compression bandage seemed to be doing a good job of keeping the bleeding and swelling to a minimum, but it was only a temporary measure. Gen would need proper medical attention soon if his leg was ever going to heal right. Therse froze. A twig had snapped, somewhere out in the mist. He stilled the breath in his chest, not moving a single muscle, listening for another sound. There, in front of them, and closer than last time. He reached steadily back for his stub ammunition pistol. And then they emerged from the haze: a whole family of creatures he'd never seen the like of before, snuffling through 179

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the undergrowth—three larger animals about as big as a dog, accompanied by five or so smaller creatures he guessed were their young. They were round like pigs, with two tiny black eyes set above huge downward-turned mouths like suction funnels, surrounded by mobile mandibles that they apparently used for turning the undergrowth over. He watched them, dumbfounded, afraid to breathe properly in case he scared them away. The smaller ones were following the adults closely, sticking near the head, putting their mouths down to the ground when the bigger ones routed at the debris covering the forest floor. They were maybe five meters away now, and he could hear their little grunting, snuffling noises, could see the dew glistening on their coarse fur. Therse decided Gen should see this and shook him gently. He opened his eyes groggily and started to sit up, opening his mouth to protest at Therse for such a rude awakening. Therse's arm came around him, stopping his movement and covering his mouth. Therse held him fast, and for a moment he was confused and infuriated until he noticed the transfixed expression on Therse's face and followed his gaze. Therse felt Gen's hand move slowly to his, making the gentlest of contacts, bringing it down away from his mouth. Therse glanced sideways at him. They sat like that for another minute or so, embraced almost like lovers, and watched the animals go about their business, neither wanting to move and break the spell of the moment. And just as suddenly as they had appeared, the animals vanished back into the mist. 180

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**** The still, gray cool of the morning had given way to the still, humid heat of the afternoon. Their progress remained slow, but Therse had at least managed to convince Gen to let him carry all the equipment. The man was stubborn and proud, so it had taken the best of Therse's diplomatic wrangling to get him to give it up. In the end he'd gone for, "I'll carry it today and you can carry it tomorrow; that way we both take shifts having a rest," though he had no intention of giving it back. Gen was even slower than yesterday, a combination of the injury and the pain meds beginning to wear off. What made it worse was that there was only one spray left, so they both knew Gen would have to wait until he was in excruciating pain to use it in order to make the meds last. "So remind me, what was your big idea?" That was worrying. Therse had told him once already what their new plan was, and having to reiterate it meant that the pain was bad enough now to distract Gen. "We head for the base, or what's left of it at least. It's likely the people who blew the crap out of it might be hovering around, and we can ask for a lift if they're friendlies. If not, there's an outside chance some fighters will be laying around somewhere and we can get ourselves off of this rock." "Right." "Of course," he trailed off, looking down at his feet. "What?" "Means we'll have to walk the whole distance." 181

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"Whatever. No problem." "Gen, I think it's time to admit that it just isn't possible for you to walk all that way with your leg in that state —" "You never fucking listen do you? Am I complaining? No. Now let's just keep. Fucking. Walking. You're wasting enough time with your bullshit arguing." "Fine," Therse relented, scratching at his neck again. It was sore now. He pulled the suit collar up over it and resolved not to scratch it again. **** Therse dropped back to walk alongside Gen, and peered sideways at him. "You could always just wait here. I'll leave you with some rations and the rifle and head up to the base alone. It'll be quicker, and I can scope out what's up there. I mean, what's the point in dragging yourself all the way over there if there's nothing but charred wreckage anyway?" Gen breathed heavily through his nostrils and kept staring straight ahead. Therse put a hand on his elbow. "Genham." Gen pulled away sharply. "There is nothing you can say that will convince me to sit my ass down in the middle of fucking nowhere and wait for you to come skipping back to me, so you needn't bother." "All right, fine, I'll say it how it is then, shall I? This is fucking stupid. You can't walk. You're limping along on what is at best a fracture, slowing me up for no reason at all. You can say you don't want to sit somewhere and wait all you want, but what's to stop me just leaving you behind anyway?" 182

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Gen grabbed him with both hands, wincing as some of the weight went awkwardly onto his injured leg. "Look, you fuckwit, I don't give two shits if you decide you want to run off; we were never anything like a team in the first place. We're just two people who happen to be on the same side in this mess. In fact you know what? I think I'd be much happier if you pissed off, so go right ahead." Therse brushed him off, reached into his pack and shoved a couple of rations, the remaining medpack and the rifle into Gen's hands. "Fucking fine by me," he spat, and walked away. He got about twenty paces before he heard something collapse into the undergrowth. He stopped and turned back to see Gen trying to lever himself off the floor with the rifle. Gen saw him looking. "Just keep going, piece of shit, I don't need you." Therse walked back to him, and, ignoring his protests and bravado, slung one of Gen's arms over his shoulder and hoisted him up. Once he was upright, Gen tried to pull free but Therse wouldn't let him. "Enough already!" Gen yelled. "Would you just shut up for one fucking minute?" Therse yelled back at him. "Stupid proud bastard!" As they walked on, Therse felt himself gradually take more of Gen's weight. **** Gen was growing weaker, Therse could feel it. It was more difficult for him to hide it now that they were walking like this. 183

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He'd known how bad it was when Gen hadn't protested the arm at his waist to offer more support as they walked. And now an obstacle had appeared that made things so much worse—a river, fast-flowing and thigh-height at least, stretching about twenty meters or so across. Huge rocks and boulders littered the water, throwing up dangerous eddies. "Shit," Gen muttered. Therse shrugged his arm off, then set about moving the pack from his back to his front. "What are you doing?" Then Therse squatted down in front of him with his arms reaching out backwards. "What the fuck?" "You won't make it across." "Like hell I'm going to let you carry me!" "Just hurry up and fucking do it, Gen! We don't have time for this shit, and you know you're going to do it in the end anyway because there's no way you'd make it on your own, so just fucking come on already!" Gen cursed with acute embarrassment, but did reluctantly as he was asked. Therse stood upright, taking his weight fully. "Shit, how much do you weigh?" "All right that's it, fucking put me down now —" "Jesus, shit I was kidding you asshole, just sit tight." Therse jostled him slightly, evening up the distribution of weight across his back. Even that much movement brought protest from Gen, and from this angle Therse could see just how swollen his leg had become. He glanced down, Gen's arms tight around his shoulders, hands gripping his suit; he 184

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felt Gen's warm weight against him, his hands under Gen's strong, muscular thighs. He moved towards the river before his face became incandescent. He went cautiously, testing his footing on the slippery banks of the river's edge. The feet of the suit were practically molded to his own, so feeling for purchase shouldn't be too difficult a task, at least he hoped. The water in front of them was moving very quickly. He gripped Gen's thighs subconsciously as he prepared himself, choosing a route through the churning flow where the river was narrowest. "You okay?" "Fine, just go already." Gen gripped him tighter in preparation. The water was chill, and Therse hissed as it sucked the warmth from his sensitive flesh. It was a temperate day, light breeze but still humid, certainly pleasant on his skin the few places it was exposed. The water shouldn't have felt anywhere near that cold, and he knew it. He eased gradually into it, feeling the river bed with his feet, testing for purchase amongst the mud and shingle. He just had to take it slow and steady, make it to the other side as safely as possible. The river rose gradually against his legs with each footfall, and he began to feel the force of it swirling past him. He eyed the deeper parts up ahead. Things could get very difficult indeed if it came up higher than he was expecting, but he had no choice other than to continue on. The noise of it was all around them now, sloshing and churning past great boulders that would at one time have been part of the mountainside, rippling smoothly in deceptive 185

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whorls that emptied into other, greater pools. Therse came to a stop, hoping to get a better grasp of the safest way out of the situation. The water was up to his thighs now, and it was difficult to keep his footing in the currents with Gen's weight and the weight of the pack to contend with and adjust for. He thought he saw a safe route and went for it, nearly toppling over at Gen's sudden cry. Gen held him tight, muttering expletives until Therse realized the water had reached Gen's foot, tugging it this way and that in the harsh flow and probably doing him no end of further damage. Therse cursed under his breath and hoisted Gen up higher, his muscles screaming at the effort, the imbalance almost sending them both tumbling head first into the swell. Therse caught himself, steadied himself, sweating, and continued. Sometimes you didn't know what you were capable of doing until you had to do it. He concluded that perhaps this was the time for haste rather than caution and slipped his way through the remaining distance awkwardly to the other side, dragging himself free with the help of some vines onto the opposite river bank. His chest was heaving with the effort, bottom half shivering and soaked through. There was no time for self-pity, though. He renewed his grip on Gen's legs, and pushed on through the knee-length foliage. "It was pretty touch-and-go there for a while, you have all the balance of a drunken camel." Gen moved on his back, hands releasing him. There was an expectant pause, but Therse kept moving. "Hey shithead, put me down." Gen began to struggle, but weakly. "Oi, Therse." 186

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"Just...just shut up, okay? It's fine like this." "The hell it is," Gen muttered, but stopped struggling. Therse felt Gen's forehead press to the back of his head, breath fluttering along the back of his neck. Eventually Gen slung his arms back around Therse's shoulders. "I never even wanted to join the military," Gen said, after a while. "This was my Dad's idea." "Oh? So what did you want to be instead? Freight driver? Interior salesman?" "Fuck you," Gen laughed. "I didn't even know you had a sense of humor." "You never asked. I think you were too busy being a jerk." "You're the jerk." "Nice. That the best you can do?" "Piss off; I'm injured, losing blood and being carried like a child by a guy I can't stand, so don't expect anything better out of me." "Still can't stand me, huh?" Therse said, trying to mask the fact it hurt that Gen still thought of him in that way. "Nope." "Maybe I should leave you here in the middle of the damn forest then." "Go ahead," Gen told him, voice full of defiance despite the tightening of his hands in Therse's suit. They continued on in silence for a while, until Therse decided it was about time he asked something. "Why is it you can't stand me? I never had a problem with you 'til you started being a dick to me." "I dunno, I just don't like you." 187

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"Why?" "You're annoying. You're irritating. You're just...you're too..." "What?" "...perfect." Therse stopped. Gen lifted his head slightly to peer at him. "I'm far from perfect, Gen." "Perfect scores, perfect runs in the sims, perfect implementation of complex strategies...you're fucking annoying. But there's one thing I've got on you." "Oh, what's that then?" Therse snorted. "I pilot better than you do." "Says fucking who?" "Says me, that's who!" "Since when?" "Since the day I stepped into a sim! It's okay, don't feel bad; it only comes naturally to some people." "You do not fly better than I do. I've seen you pilot; you're shoddy, unpredictable, ranging all over the place —" "Oh, and I suppose you're the picture of precision, eh? Tight formations and tactical grace?" "Right! Exactly right!" Gen made a buzzer noise like on the screen game shows. "Wrong! That's not how you fly." "Like hell it isn't —" "You're flying in the upper 'sphere, get into a dogfight, tactics and shit isn't going to get you anywhere. You need to react. To be impulsive and spontaneous and unpredictable. If 188

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you're predictable, you're dead." He poked a finger to the back of Therse's head, like a gun. "End-of." Gen seemed to be neglecting to remember that for both of them, their first time in a real live fighter had hardly ended in great success, but Therse let it go. "That's all well and good in the short-term, but you need to think ahead. Plan what they might do, what might be coming up so you can respond correctly when the time comes. If they play clever with you and you're not ready for it, you'll trip up in your tangle of unpredictable moves. If all you ever do is respond to their actions, they'll always have the upper hand." He was met with silence. He peered back at Gen. "See, you're a jerk. No wonder no one likes you." "I'm a jerk because I'm right? Some damn logic you've got. Oh wait, I remember you're a stranger to that concept; that explains everything." "So damn wordy." "I'll be wordy if I damn well want to be! And besides, not everyone doesn't like me." He thought about that one for a second, then carried on. "It's just you. And yet here I am, carrying your heavy ass across the jungle." "Martyr." "Asshole." "Shithead." "Dumbass. You should at least be happy that we're playing on your level now, right?" "Fuck you." But Therse could hear the smile in his words. "So, what about you, anyway? Always want to be Navy?" 189

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"I always wanted to be a Commander. Those guys always seemed so strong and untouchable. I wanted to be like that. Not..." he tailed off. "Not like my dad." Another silence descended, only less comfortable than the last. "There's a thing," Gen muttered. "...What?" "On your neck. A red mark." "Yeah, I think I got a bite or something." "Looks nasty." "It's fine. Just itchy, that's all." "What if whatever bit you laid something in there? Maybe it's going to hatch and swim up into your brain. Or maybe thousands of tiny crawly things are going to swarm out of it." "What are you, twelve?" "Oh, like you're Mr. Maturity." "I am mature. Perhaps you just can't appreciate that because you're a man-child." "Excuse me?" Therse could feel something boiling up inside him. Gen's care-free approach to the world had always grated with him. "Seriously, all you ever do, all you've ever done, is drink and screw around. Don't you think it's time to grow up just a little?" Perhaps he was just jealous he hadn't had that luxury himself, but the irritation was there all the same. "Where the hell do you get off judging me?" Therse's whole body tensed at that. "Just forget it," Gen muttered. Therse only wished he could. "Thanks," Gen said eventually. "For all this." 190

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"Mm." Therse said, and felt his body relax a little again. That was probably as close as he was ever going to get to an apology from Gen. The next time Gen spoke, he sounded sleepy. "Hey," "What?" "Can we rest for a while? I feel kinda tired." "You feel tired?" Then the grip around Therse's shoulders started to slip. "Whoa, Gen." Therse caught him, leaning forward so that Gen couldn't drop backwards off him, and slipped him to the floor. Gen's eyes were closed, sweat beading his forehead. The panic in Therse's gut subsided when he could clearly see Gen was still breathing, but his hands were shaking as he checked Gen's vitals through the suit interface at his wrist. His blood pressure was a little low but stable, body temp high, his neural activity way down. He was unconscious, for now. In a way it was better—at least he couldn't feel the pain in his leg anymore. Therse carried him to the safety of the huge roots of the nearest tree. They weren't as densely packed together here, and the light from the sun was able to reach the floor in dappled patches where soft, lush grasses sprang forth in abundance. He laid Gen down carefully, using the pack to cushion his head. "You're not such a tough guy after all, are you?" Therse whispered, gazing at him. He put a hand to Gen's forehead, feeling the heat of him. Nothing too severe for now, but he'd need to be vigilant for symptoms of fever. As he pulled his palm away, he brushed some disheveled strands of Gen's blond hair back from his face. 191

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When he looked at Gen, really looked, something rose up inside that made Therse feel so uncertain, as though everything in his world could be upended at any moment, turned to dust and carried away by the wind. His lips tweaked into a sad smile. His world was mostly dust anyway. He tugged his suit visor out of one of the pack pockets and fixed it round his head, tilting the single screen so it displayed correctly to his eye. The microphone was embedded on a little mouthpiece stowed into the headset, and he pulled that out too, opening up the channel he knew Jetty operated on, but getting nothing. It didn't work anymore—it wasn't even receiving background static, so he abandoned that idea, letting out a long sigh and pushing his forehead against his knuckles. He'd known it would be a long shot, but that didn't stop the grating disappointment. He turned his head, looking over at Gen again. "Sorry, doesn't look like anyone's coming." He leaned back against the tree root and stared up at the dying embers of the day, filtered soft through the dark foliage above, and closed his eyes. **** He was beginning to lose track of the days. Had it been four, maybe five sunrises now? He couldn't recall through the dull fog that seemed to have settled over his mind, and cursed himself for leaving behind the heavy technical equipment that might have been able to give him the answer, when he'd made adjustments to better transport Gen. 192

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Gen was still unconscious, his fever growing worse every day. Therse knew Gen would need proper help soon, and it worried him. He had debated whether to leave Gen behind while he made his way down the valley, at the least it would allow him to move faster, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. So that left him where he was now, struggling through knee-high grasses and pressing endlessly on in the direction of the little red marker on his HUD. His own body was beginning to suffer the strain, and as much as he tried not to dwell on it, he knew he was flagging badly. One step at a time, one moment after the next. The air was clear and still around him, shafts of light lanced through the shade here and there, picking out glittering congregations of incandescent insects, buzzing about, indifferent to the plight of their human visitors. He wished different circumstances had brought them to Yemis. It was undoubtedly beautiful. Suddenly the display on Therse's lens went haywire, flashing red and setting off a high-pitched alarm in his ear. It took him a panicked second to work out what it all meant. The large, urgent red graphs were biosignatures. A flatline. Gen's heart had stopped. He slipped Gen from his back as carefully as he could manage, grunting at the twist and the effort as he dropped to the ground, scrambling about and putting grubby, desperate hands to Gen's neck to search for a pulse, trying to remember what you were supposed to do in this situation, fighting the 193

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wrenching feeling in his gut, the need to vomit, the want to run and keep running. Gen was dead. For all intents and purposes, he was gone. He'd left it too late, taken too long to get help. Therse leant over and put an ear to Gen's mouth, straining for any slightest hint of noise. Nothing. The display was still flashing at him. He knelt up in the soft, sweet-smelling grasses, almost as though in prayer, hands balled into fists by his temples in his frustrated need to do something but not knowing how. His hands went to Gen's chest, slipping over the damp fabric still soaked in the warmth from his body. Therse put one palm over the other and leant forward, forcing downward thrusts in quick succession. He was trembling as he did it, watching Gen's slack, pale face and hoping with all the strength he had left that Gen would come around. "Come on," he whispered, voice nothing more than a dry croak. Tears stung in his eyes. "Gen, fuck," He stopped chest compressions, shifting so he could tilt Gen's head back and part his lips. He bent down to listen again. Still nothing. He drew in a deep breath and put his lips to Gen's, pressing their mouths together, and breathed out, pushing air into the other man's lungs and forcing his chest to rise. He resumed compressions, watching for any sign of recovery, fighting the feeling of desperation that he would lose Gen here in the middle of nowhere, of never being able to tell him how he really felt, of how ever since they'd met he'd been 194

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unable to take his eyes off him, how he'd thought so many times of how it might be to bring their lips together. The alarm in his ear stopped. At first he thought Gen was gone altogether and he nearly screamed, but the calm ticking of biosignatures told Therse he was stable, for now. Tears rolled down Therse's cheeks. He grabbed a still unconscious Gen, pushing fingers into his damp, matted hair and kissing him, cradling him close, feeling the life that was in him still. Gen's lips were limp and yielded under Therse's contact. Soft, full lips that he'd wanted for so long, that he'd forgotten himself and taken advantage of. A desperate kiss of longing that he'd taken without permission. He broke away reluctantly, feeling Gen's lips brush against his ever so slightly as they parted contact. He looked down at Gen, peaceful in his arms as though he was only sleeping, hair splayed around his head, beautiful eyes closed, chest rising and falling to a gentle rhythm. Guilt racked Therse's bones. A deep, boring guilt that he had done something he most definitely shouldn't. He lay Gen back down gently, heart pounding in his chest, body still yearning for that contact, and shook himself. Now was not the right time. There would never be a right time, and he knew it. He had to concentrate on what he could do here—more than likely, Gen had septicemia. He fumbled around inside his suit, pulling out the antibiotic hyposyringe he'd stowed away, and pressed it to Gen's neck. It went off with a discrete 'hiss'. The awful truth was that whatever he could do now wouldn't be nearly enough. 195

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He put his head in his hands and wept bitterly from selfish, idiotic, fleeting relief, knowing it was a pointless feeling in the context of the overall hopelessness of their situation. Gen was in a critical condition, leg broken, blood poisoned. One hypo certainly wouldn't be enough to eliminate the infection with the wound still open, and he knew it wouldn't be long before Gen succumbed to it and died for real. His only hope of survival was a man who hadn't eaten for days, who most likely had a blood infection himself, if not something worse, from the bite on his neck. A man who was weakened and sweating and shaking and hardly good for anything any more. But what else could he do? He wasn't going to sit here and wait for death. He could at least try to get Gen to the remains of the base, he could at least go and see if there was any chance of getting spaceside. And if they got there and discovered the whole place had been vaporized, well, he could despair then for good reason. In the meantime, he would do everything he could to get Gen to safety. He took a couple of deep breaths and composed himself, wiped his eyes and nose on the back of his grubby hand, lifted Gen up, and started walking again. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other, inching closer to that vain flicker of hope somewhere in the valley. **** He couldn't remember how long it had been now. Days, weeks perhaps? He could feel his consciousness slipping away, like melting butter in a hot pan. He tried his best to 196

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keep the pan steady, to stop himself from spilling over the edge. Couldn't do that, no. Couldn't afford to do that. But why? Why did it matter? He was tired, needed to sleep. Sleep and sleep and never wake up. No one would know if he just took a little nap, just a short one, against some tree. It was getting dark again now and anyway, he'd forgotten where it was he was headed to and why he needed to get there. No! He told himself. Wherever 'there' was, it was something important, something he needed. No. Not something he needed. Something someone else needed, and that was even more important. So heavy. So tired and so hot and so damn heavy. Oh yes. That was it. He bore a burden, a burden of trust, of secret and unrequited love. That burden meant he couldn't stop, couldn't sleep, couldn't just drop to his knees and die. So he kept going, one step then the next, slipping over roots and face whipped by tangles of vines, hoping with blind faith he was heading in the right direction, whatever that meant. Something bright above him, and noisy. Startlingly so. It shook the trees and shredded the dark. It must be them, he thought. They were supposed to be dead, all charred and burned up until there was nothing left, but here they were, come to take them away. He would have let them take him if it was only him they'd come for, but it wasn't. He couldn't let them take the one at his back, couldn't let anything happen to him. He dropped to his knees and let the weight slide off him gently, gently. The burden was to be protected at all 197

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costs, even his own life, though he couldn't remember why. A feeling. Just a feeling. He knew it in his gut, and that was enough reason. He reached into his thigh holster and pulled out the pistol, aiming it at the white, thrumming noise. Two sharp pains in his chest and he dropped like death, simply unable to fight the weariness any more. **** Voices, all around him. He couldn't make them out and at first they came to his ears as babbling nonsense, but as he regained consciousness fully he understood them. "This one first! He's in a much worse condition!" "Severe leg wound and septicemia over here; we'll get him stable for transport, you go." Lots of voices and noise, blinding light and busy people all around him. They were standing over him, silhouettes against the confusion, talking to him in words his mind moved too slowly to comprehend. Something was put over his mouth and he didn't want it there, but his hand was too feeble to fight the figure towering over him. Then he remembered where he was, through the haze. He remembered he hadn't been alone. There was a pain in his leg as though someone had torn his flesh from his bones, and he screamed in agony, pressing his face against the hard surface that now lay beneath him. When he opened his eyes again, he saw someone else, lying flat and pale and lifeless with people working frantically around him. 198

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They were shouting at one another, sticking the body full of leads and sensors and other things Gen didn't understand. Then he realized who it was, and heard a sound come from his own throat that horrified him almost as much as the sudden, wrenching, desperate feeling inside. As he watched, Therse's body began to shake, like a fish pulled from the water and thrown onto the bank. "Fuck! He's seizing!" one of the women shouted. "We need to evac now!" He shouted for Therse, over and over, ignoring the pain in his own body, ignoring his croaking, weak, broken voice, ignoring the people fussing around him, just hoping Therse might hear him. He felt a tight contact around his arm, painful to his poisoned blood, but it pulled his attention away. Someone was squeezing him. "Hi," he said. Gen tried to make out his features, but it was impossible. "He's going to be okay. Just stay with me." Gen nodded, feeling no shame at the tears streaming his cheeks. There were other voices nearby as he was hoisted off the ground—those with the tone of command. "I hope you're happy." A man, gruff, indignant. "I fail to see how this is in any way our fault. You should be grateful that we agreed to search for survivors." A woman. Voice smooth and laced with threat. "You..! You shot their carrier out of the fucking sky! I lost nineteen of my men today, and you're going to shirk responsibility?" 199

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"Those were warning shots on a craft that failed to identify itself. We were acting under regular Imperial protocol for dealing with raiders. Their deaths are your responsibility. Your presence was unscheduled and you were under radio silence, something I'd like to talk to you about in far greater detail." "We could have pulled this off fine without your damned interference! This is our sector, we don't need your 'help'!" "Is that what this was? You thought you'd slip in before us and 'take care' of everything?" "This should have been a Navy operation from the start!" "This type of feckless, reckless endangerment is exactly why we have to come out here and do things properly. If nineteen of your men died today you have no one to blame but yourself. Just be fucking thankful these two will be fine. And if it were left to me, Major, I'd decorate these trees with the limited contents of your fucking skull for such a horrific failure. Just be glad I don't have any jurisdiction here. Enjoy your court martial." **** [Back to Table of Contents]

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9: FRUITION Therse sat aboard the stellar cruiser Terminal Regret, alone with his thoughts in the warm comfort of the officers' lounge, drumming his fingers lightly against the coffee table, chin resting in the palm of his other hand. He sighed and rubbed at his temple, trying to halt the churning mixture of anger and guilt swirling in his mind. He'd been hiding from Gen behind Meitou until Meitou had left, secretly not wanting to deal with him, but now that perfectly-chiseled and distracting excuse was gone, Therse was simply hiding. Which was pathetic. He didn't want to leave it like this. He'd known the situation would be difficult if he got accepted, and he'd known he'd be conflicted, but he'd at least expected Gen to be supportive. Well, perhaps he still was, but everything had gotten mired in the complications of his overreaction to Therse's secret. Gen was still so irritatingly childish in some ways. Therse supposed he wasn't much different himself, evading the issue by skulking off into a corner of the ship and hoping nobody would find him. Though what, exactly, had he been hoping Gen's response would be? Did he want Gen to ask him not to leave? Did he want Gen not to care at all? Either of those would have been easier to deal with than knowing he was hiding his true feelings. But that was just another way to shirk the responsibility of deciding, he supposed. To let Gen dictate his 201

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decision so he didn't have to fear the regret of making the wrong choice. Even if Gen had asked him to stay, Therse had already known what his response would be. But none of this changed how he felt. He sighed again and chastised himself for acting like a melancholy adolescent. He was moving on, on and up to what would undoubtedly be a bright future, and he deserved it. It was what he wanted, and he'd worked damn hard for the recognition. What made it so difficult was that right now, he didn't want to leave at all. Not like this. He got to his feet from the lush rug and decided it was high time he went to find Gen and apologize so that they could make the most of the time they still had together. A little voice chimed inside his head, a voice he used to be able to silence completely. He still hadn't learned from one experience of almost losing Gen. He was about to lose him again, and for good. Therse gazed out of the window and wondered faintly if he should tell Gen how he really felt, if he should confess after all these years of repressed affections, but shoved the delicate wishful thoughts away. The truth was, it was best for them both if he said nothing. Then nothing would be changed, and they could just go about the rest of their lives, apart. It was time to accept that he could never have what he wanted here; it was and always had been nothing more than a dream. The sooner he realized that, the sooner he could finally put to rest his specter of guilt. 202

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The transport pod that served the lounge opened behind him, and he turned around to see Gen stepping out from it, expression on his face like they'd been thinking along similar lines. Gone was the defensive bravado from earlier and in its place a vulnerability that made the thought of leaving a thousand times harder. Therse swallowed, trying to ignore the rush in his chest at seeing Gen, at seeing the way he carried himself, at seeing the way the soft low light fell across his handsome features. Since Meitou had pulled the feelings out of him, everything was so much brighter, like walking from a dark room into glorious sunshine. "Hey," Gen said. "Gen." Therse paused. "Look, I'm sorry. I've been a total jerk this last week." "Yeah, well. We both have." "And I should have just come out and told you I was gay from the start. I'm sorry you had to find out in the way you did..." He scratched his head. Gen shrugged an acceptance. "Like you said, what difference does it make really," he tailed off. "I'm sorry I reacted weird." Then Therse noticed he was behaving oddly, swaying a little and keeping too much eye-contact. "I don't want it to end like this, Therse," "Are you drunk?" He laughed. "Yeah, a little. I needed to think some stuff through, needed to...needed to think about some things. When you think about some things, you know sometimes you need to be drunk to think about them properly." 203

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Therse squinted at him, confused. "I'm happy for you, you know that, right?" Gen continued. "I'm so happy for you that Command wants you, because hell, they should. They should be biting your fucking hand off at the opportunity to get you into their ranks." "Thanks," he muttered, blushing. Gen had never been so forthcoming with complements before. "You didn't seem so enthusiastic earlier." "Just ignore me. You know I have a tendency to shut people out when I'm feeling..." The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. He was looking at Therse quite intensely. "I really am happy for you. You're the best guy I've ever known." He laughed and shook his head. "Shit, that came out awful." Therse walked over to him, smiling, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's fine. Thank you." They looked at one another. For a fleeting moment Therse got the impression Gen was about to kiss him. The mind could play such cruel tricks at times. "What's wrong?" he asked. "I'm drunk." Gen grinned, rubbing his forehead. "I know," Therse chuckled. "No, I mean...I think about you, when I'm drunk." Therse blinked at him. "What?" "I've seen the way you look at me sometimes." And suddenly the blush across his cheeks was fierce. "What are you talking about?" he laughed, still trying to deny it, feeling the hot poker of fear coming close at the possibility he might have been found out. 204

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"That guy..." Gen muttered, gesticulating off to his side as though Meitou was in the room with them. "For as much as I think he's an asshole, and he is an asshole, he's right on one thing. There's a question I have, a question I need to ask you, and it might not have anything to do with anything, and it might be way off the mark, but if I don't ask it now I probably never will and I can't rest knowing that that bastard has it over me..." He was rambling. "Gen, you're not making any sense. Hell, I should be used to that by now." Still so close, almost gazing at him. "What question?" "Are you in love with me?" No preparation, no warning, Gen just asked the question outright, blunt and direct as ever, and it hit Therse like a shell to the face at point-blank range. And Gen just stood there, looking back at him, waiting for his response as he struggled desperately to find words. "What? Why would you even think that?" "I don't know...I get this, this heat from you. And the thought just keeps spinning around in my head, that maybe you have feelings for me." Therse's mind was gunning at close to light speed as he tried to decide the best way to answer the question—to tell Gen the truth and risk everything or to lie and circumnavigate, to run and never look back. He settled for avoiding the question altogether. "I really don't understand what that question has to do with anything." "I want to know, because if you feel that way...means I have to think about how I feel...about you..." 205

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"What are you saying?" "You're a fucking jerk and sometimes I hate you, other times I can't stand you...but sometimes...sometimes I think about you, and I don't know why. I think about not wanting you to go. The thought of not seeing you every day feels like having something ripped out of me..." This was headed in a certain direction, a direction Therse could see but refused to believe. All he could do was stand quietly and watch, mind reeling. "And I need to figure it out fast before you're gone forever." "What are you talking about..." Therse whispered Gen sighed and fixed his gaze, calm and steady, and said the words Therse had wanted to say for years as though they were no more difficult to utter than an order at a fancy restaurant. "I think I might be in love with you." Therse just stared back at him. "You're not in love with me," Gen seemed surprised. "Then would you please explain what the hell's going on in here?" He pointed at his head. "Cause I sure as fuck can't figure it out." Therse turned away from him, running his fingers up into his hair. "Oh no. No, this isn't happening. No, no, no," he muttered. "Then tell me I'm wrong. I'm a little confused right now and I don't really know what to think." But Therse didn't answer his question. Didn't persuade him otherwise. "Therse?" Gen reached for his shoulder. 206

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Therse span around to face him. "Why now? Why are you thinking this shit now?" "I don't know, fuck I've never loved anybody else, I don't know how it's supposed to feel —" Therse yanked Gen in and brought their faces close, almost kissing him. He was close, so close and so warm— "What do you want?" Therse asked, eyes closed. "Right now, what do you want?" "Right now?" "Right now." Gen swallowed. "I...I want to kiss you; I want to hold you," But Therse broke away. "We can't do this, I can't," "Why not?" Gen asked as Therse stalked across the room, not responding. "Would you fucking tell me what's going through that empty head of yours?" "There's no point!" he shouted. "I'm going to Command, you're going to Carbera, it's unlikely we'll ever even see each other again. It'll just wreck everything, and you're not even sure about how you feel!" "Who cares about a 'point', Therse," "Trust me, it's just easier if we drop this and forget it ever came up, okay?" "What if I don't want to drop it? What if that's the last thing I want?" "No, I can't," "Why? Is it that you're not attracted to me?" "That's not it at all." "Hey, if that's so, hit me with it; I can take it," 207

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"Would you shut up? I am...very attracted to you." Therse was having a hard time following what the hell they were talking about. Where was this even coming from? What in fuck was Gen saying? "Then why won't you consider this? You'll screw some guy we've known for five minutes, but this isn't worth a try?" "Well, excuse me if this is just a little fucking difficult to process all of a fucking sudden," he said, glaring over at Gen. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Gen was standing right there, offering him everything he wanted, confessing feelings he'd been too cowardly to express himself, and even though every fiber of his body was telling him to march over there and grab Gen up with both hands, he still couldn't do it. He still just couldn't let himself free. They'd been friends too long. There was too much to lose. This was happening too sudden to understand what was going on properly. All the excuses in the world came piling forth. "Look, it's just too complicated," "You're going to have to do better than that." "Because of what happened on Yemis, all right?" he yelled, pacing. "What are you talking about? What about what happened on Yemis?" He needed time. Time and distance to figure this out. Gen was in love with him? He couldn't possibly be. And even if he thought he was, it was only because he didn't know. "I didn't tell you everything that happened. I fucked up. I overstepped the line." "What line?" 208

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"Shit...shit..." He couldn't even look at Gen. "The line where you don't take advantage of an unconscious person in your care! I..." he trailed off. "You, 'what'? What does that mean?" Time to lay it all out. Gen would hate him maybe, should hate him, but at least that was a reaction Therse could predict. "I kissed you. You went into shock. Your heart stopped and I had to resuscitate you. I was so relieved that I..." "You kissed me?" "Just on the lips, just long enough to..." Gen was just staring back at him, bemused. "Fuck," "So? Look, it's not that big of a deal, you saved my life and I owe you everything." That was the first time Gen had ever thanked him for what happened. "I don't even care." All that guilt he'd carried for so long. All that self-loathing and turmoil couldn't be for nothing. Therse felt a rage boiling up inside him. "Don't tell me it was okay to cross that line, because it wasn't, Gen; it's never okay to cross that line without permission." "Why the hell are you beating yourself up about it?" "Because I deserve it!" It hadn't given him the release he'd thought it would. He'd confessed, told Gen everything he'd been holding back, but still he felt something inside that closed him up. This was all so sudden. He was so desperate, so alone, but no one could ever be allowed to see it. He had to keep Gen at bay. There was still so much anger, so much hate. He was a broken man fixed together with rotten pieces of wood and 209

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rusted nails, and Gen would just tear him down altogether. He'd known it all along. That fear was the real reason he'd never confessed his feelings. "You're not listening! I'm standing here, telling you it's all right, that I don't give a damn —" "It's not that simple. You can't make it all okay just like that —" "God-fucking-dammit! You're such a fucking stubborn ass I can't stand you!" Gen shouted, close to him again. "As if you've any need to fucking talk, you're the bane of my fucking life! You ruined everything for me and I still feel like this?" "I ruined everything for you?" "Do you have any idea what that's like? Still wake up every morning with you in my head, still get that light feeling whenever I see you, still can't fucking get over you and knowing, knowing that it doesn't matter how I feel only for you to suddenly turn around and start saying all this shit?" Everything in his life had been so perfectly organized, his emotions so tidy and orderly and compartmentalized. Gen was his nemesis; the straight love of his life. Unattainable. He could yearn safely and never have to feel afraid of letting anyone in, because the only person who could get to the core of him would be someone who would never want to. "Well, how would you know if it mattered or not, you never asked! And do you think you're the only one who's suffered? I would have been fine if it hadn't been for you. It would have been straight-forward, plain sailing. Do you know how many women I had to go through just to get you out of my mind? 210

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And you're still there, you're still all I fucking think about. Doesn't matter what I fucking do!" But thinking Gen was unattainable had been his undoing. All this time. All this time and he'd been too blind to see it, hadn't allowed himself to see what was right in front of him. They were both idiots, but he was by far the bigger. "Well, what, you think you can just turn around one day and tell me you think you're in love with me, even though you have no fucking clue what that feels like, and expect me to jump into bed with you so we can see for sure?" "Yes!" "Then why the hell are you just standing there —" And in less than a moment Gen had crossed the space between them, that distance Therse had known could never be closed, had convinced himself would always be there to keep them apart. In less than a moment Gen's lips were at his, pushed soft and warm and tight against his as Gen's hands held his cheeks and pulled him in like this was the last kiss he'd ever have. It was rough and awkward and utterly real. Kissing him. Gen was kissing him. "Stop," Therse whispered, lips moving against Gen's as he spoke, gripping him by the wrists. Gen kissed him again, unsure this time. Therse's hands went to Gen's shoulders, holding him away. What he'd wanted for so long was right there within arm's reach, he just had to take it. So why couldn't he? Something still just didn't feel right; he knew he wanted this, but Gen? 211

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He had to stop it, had to reinforce the dam before the waters breached it. Things could still be salvaged if he was careful. Therse couldn't look up, couldn't make eye contact for fear the look on Gen's face might break him. "Look, you're just drunk, and aroused, and confused," he said steadily, controlling the waver in his voice. "This has nothing to do with me. You have no idea what you're doing." He felt Gen stiffen and straighten under his palms. "Don't patronize me. I'm still drunk, but I'm not confused anymore. Everything is crystal clear for a change." "You're not making any sense." Therse ran his fingers into his hair and turned away. This couldn't possibly be happening. He couldn't allow himself to give in to it, couldn't let Gen unlock him even in the slightest. He had no idea what might come tumbling out, and the thought terrified him. He needed to put an end to this nonsense before it began. "None of this makes any sense." But Gen persisted. The same stubborn bastard he always had been. "I'm making perfect sense, and you know it. You've seen me inebriated, so you know I'm together. For the first fucking time in my life I know what I want." Therse looked back at him: straight, and honest, and beautiful as he took the breath his next words would ride on. "I want you, Therse," That couldn't possibly be true. Therse knew Gen. "You're lying," he said bitterly. "This is just one of your sick, twisted little jokes, isn't it?" Gen reacted as though he'd been stabbed. "What are you talking about?" 212

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He knew what Gen was. No one changed so easily. "Like pissing in that guy's hair sculpt. Like leaving that cadet out naked in the freezing cold night and refusing to open the door until he begs you with tears streaming down his face." Gen was uncomfortable, desperate. "I've done some things I'm not proud of, okay? I used to be a jerk, I was a shit to you and I know that. But this is different —" Therse's hand bunched suddenly in the front of Gen's shirt and his expression darkened. "Then what the fuck do you want with me? I'm just the beaten son of a drunk and a whore, remember?" he spat, tears stinging his eyes. That was who Gen really was. The man who'd hit him, ridiculed him. He'd fooled them both into believing he was a good man, but that was what lay at his core and Therse hated himself for falling for him. The one time in his life Therse had actually felt good about something, Gen had been right there to remind him he was worthless. "What kind of man uses something like that as a cheap shot? And you think you're in love with me? That's fucking laughable." "I'm not the man I used to be, you idiot." Gen replied angrily, gesticulating, then gripped Therse's shoulders with both hands. "You're still not listening to me. This is just you doing whatever it takes to wall me out because you're so afraid of actually getting what you want —" Gen stopped and looked down at the hand clenched so angrily in his shirt. When he met Therse's eyes again it was with a resigned sadness and profound regret Therse had never seen in him before. "I'm sorry I said those things...and even if you don't believe me, I never meant them." Gen swallowed. He spoke 213

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with a slow, honest calm and a sad smile. "You don't know what it's like to be mediocre. Someone like you, as talented as you are...all of that...it was the only way I could get you to even look at me. Your acknowledgment was all I ever wanted. I'm so sick of being a child about it, Therse..." Therse set his jaw and shook his head, biting back a flood of emotion. He was defeated. The dam breached, his defenses overcome, washed away until all that remained was the frightened, vulnerable little boy around which everything had been built. He was out in the open now, feeling the warm sun fully on his skin. "From the first time I saw you," he whispered, "I couldn't see anyone else." He released Gen's shirt, smoothing the fabric out slowly over his chest. "Couldn't see anyone else." Gen's hot palm went gingerly, awkwardly to Therse's jaw, fingers tickling the hairline at the back of his neck. Gen's thumb brushed his cheek. Therse could feel Gen's breath, warm over his lips, and stopped breathing with anticipation. Gen kissed him, soft and incredible. He gave in to it, pushing back into the kiss, hands rising uncertainly to Gen's sides, feeling the heat of him through his thin shirt. Gen tilted his head to deepen the kiss and Therse unraveled altogether, fingers sifting into Gen's hair as Gen's tongue flickered so uncertainly over his own, warm and wet. Gen tasted of wine, sweet and bitter all at once. Maybe Gen would undo him. Maybe Gen would open him up and break him all over again. But maybe he wouldn't. Perhaps Gen would make him feel loved for the first time in 214

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his life, and that was worth the risk. No more running. Therse was so very tired of running. He could feel Gen's hands on him, riding up his back to his shoulders. It was a good kiss. A better-than-good kiss. Tender and full, firm as they kissed harder, deeper. For some imagined moments the reality will never surpass the fantasy, but for this moment, which Therse had thought of often, reality eclipsed anything his mind could have offered. Gen shifted slightly, and Therse blushed hard at the feel of Gen's erection on his hip. He gripped Gen by the material around his waist and pulled him backwards towards the low sofa. They tipped back onto it, Gen kneeling between Therse's legs, trembling slightly as he moved in. The kiss was becoming easier, less inhibited as their arousal increased. Gen's hands were starting to wander, moving over Therse's chest, working down. Their erections pressed together, rubbing discretely through their fatigues with each slight shift in position. Everything was so wonderfully simple now. Therse was letting Gen set the pace, letting him take the lead as they slipped further and further from friends towards lovers, without hesitation. Gen's hand found its way beneath his shirt, warm skin against his, movements hesitant and deliciously unsure as though this was his first time. Therse lost himself a little and performed a trick with his tongue that made Gen press his groin down and grunt open-mouthed. Therse was shaking himself from the tension of it. He wanted Gen naked against him, wanted the feel of Gen's hot, hard cock against his own. 215

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From there, things moved faster. Gen's hands were more certain on his body, exploring his chest, touching his nipples as though by accident, but continually returning there. Therse threw his legs around Gen's hips and ground up against him, watching his face carefully. Gen groaned and arched his back, pressing down as Therse pushed up. Therse sprang up suddenly and rolled him onto his back, straddling him for a delicious moment then using all his willpower, stood up. Shirt still pushed up, obvious erection tenting his fatigue pants, breathing hard, open mouthed. Gen was in the process of sliding off the sofa, looking up at him, surprised, expectant, and wanton. Therse watched Gen's gaze travel over him and bit his bottom lip. Five years of sexual tension deserved better resolution than a swift, desperate fuck on a sofa. He tugged his shirt down and swallowed. "If you really want to do this..." He backed away, keeping Gen's gaze. Gen stood, realizing finally that Therse wanted him to follow. Therse backed up against the transport and summoned a pod. Gen closed in on him, leaning in to kiss him again when the pod doors opened, flooding the lounge with harsh, bright light. They stepped inside, a little space between them, not taking their eyes off one another. Gen was blushing hard, breathing deep. "Third, sector twelve," Therse announced. The sound of his voice in the tense atmosphere seemed to jolt Gen. The pod sounded a tone to tell them it had understood, but it was so smooth there was no indication of actual movement. 216

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It was just him and Gen standing still, staring at one another, each waiting for the other to break. Gen broke first, moving in on him swiftly and pulling him into a rough kiss, hands grabbing him all over as his own hands tugged frantically in Gen's fatigue shirt. Therse felt himself pinned to the wall of the pod, Gen's erection hard against him. He wanted to do it right then and there, to drop Gen to the floor and ride him. He was almost unbearably turned on, cock sticking to his shorts with pre-come as Gen ground into him. He opened his eyes and realized they'd arrived already. "Gen," he muttered against Gen's mouth, against his wandering and determined tongue. "Mmn," Gen replied, hoisting Therse's shirt up again. "W're here." "Mnm." Therse slipped around him, dodging as Gen tried to grab him on the way past. He backed down the corridor, turning to run a little way, heart pounding in his chest, lungs bursting, body shaking, the sound of Gen's footsteps chasing behind him. He felt utterly alive. The door to his quarters hissed open discretely. Gen was still running towards him down the corridor—the adrenaline flooding his body must have powered him more swiftly than he'd thought. He stepped inside and Gen followed him, doors sliding shut behind them. Therse looked him up and down; he seemed nervous, but there was no sense of hesitation or uncertainty about him. His expression was resolute as they gazed at one another, and 217

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Therse made a silent agreement with himself that if Gen made this final move, if he crossed the final gap between them, there wouldn't be any turning back. Gen stepped towards him. "You've run out of escape routes." "What the hell makes you think I was trying to escape?" He pulled Gen in for a rough kiss, hands roving all over, in hair, smoothing, grabbing as their lips broke for air. Gen's hand slipped down to Therse's groin, around but not on his erection, touching the tent in his trousers. Then across, feeling him, tongue slipping hot and wet into Therse's mouth as he gasped at the contact. Therse took Gen's hand and positioned it to encourage him underneath, against the firm muscle of his stomach and beneath his underwear. He all but moaned as Gen's hand dipped south, knees going weak as Gen's hand wrapped around him. Gen watched his face as Therse let him explore, clinging to his shirt with one hand. **** Gen pushed Therse's fatigues off a little way, meaning only to free his cock but in his haste they fell, collecting around Therse's ankles. Therse looked down at Gen's hand around him, covered in pre-come. Gen couldn't take his eyes off Therse's pretty cock, couldn't look away from his own hand moving over it, pulling Therse's foreskin over and back. Therse kneaded Gen through his fatigues, bringing him back to reality. The impossible reality where they were about to fuck. Gen's mind was stuttering over what was happening, trying to make sense of it, trying to come to terms with the 218

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fact that his repressed desires were being met so readily. There was a heat coursing through him like he'd never experienced in his life. They kissed again as Therse worked his way into Gen's pants, finger sliding expertly against his erection and pushing down behind his balls. Therse pulled his hand away suddenly and Gen bucked disapprovingly as he left, breaking the kiss to look at his face. But Therse was smiling at him, a nervous smile made of lips that were flush from being pressed against his own, and Gen wanted them back. He watched as Therse stepped free of his fatigues and tugged off his shirt, standing naked and looking at Gen expectantly. Gen pulled his clothes off awkwardly, stumbling in his eagerness to be rid of them, until finally they stood naked together. Therse looked him over and he did the same, languishing over every curve and angle of Therse's fantastic body as though it might disappear any moment. Part of him was still afraid this might be nothing but a drunken dream. Therse leaned in and kissed him, bringing their bodies together. Placing warm hands on Gen's waist, he pulled him in tighter, hot skin against hot skin. Gen wanted him so very badly. He adjusted position, and watching Therse's face carefully, slid his cock between Therse's thighs and under his balls, along his groin. Therse sighed, closed his eyes under furrowed brows, tilted his head to the side as Gen thrust slowly back and forth. Gen's lips grazed Therse's neck, gentle at first, turning to teeth-bound kisses that made him gasp. **** 219

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Therse could tell Gen was starting to lose it. He began to rock with him, over his cock as it thrust between his thighs, pressing tight against Gen, open-mouthed against his lips. This was all real. He'd never dared to hope that it ever could be, but here they were, standing warm and naked against one another in his room, the living fantasy every bit as concrete as the walls and the ceiling and the bed. He was tasting Gen. Feeling him, touching him, breathing in the scent of him. It was all real. "I want inside you," Gen whispered, lips moving against Therse's, voice so soft that his words would have been stolen by the gentlest of breezes. The same words Meitou had spoken to him, only from Gen's lips they carried a potency that washed out that memory as though it was a single raindrop in a drenching downpour. Therse swallowed hard, took Gen by the hand, and led him backwards to bed. **** Gen was through with holding back. If he was suddenly going to have what he wanted, he was damn determined to make the most of it after thinking about it secretly for years. He grabbed Therse roughly by the hair as they reached the bed, pulling him in for a hot, deep kiss and then pushing him back onto the soft mattress. Therse reached for him, meeting his lips and tongue again as Gen slid between his thighs. He couldn't believe he was really doing this. Couldn't believe this was really Therse he was naked and heavy against, grinding against, panting against. Therse was almost 220

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desperate beneath him, hands roving all over his body, legs locked around him as though he'd try to escape. But then he knew Therse wanted this every bit as badly as he did. He gasped as Therse reached for his erection with cold, slick fingers, felt the delicious ribbing of pleasure from Therse's hand lubing him up. Then Therse positioned him, watching his face, one hand on Gen's cock and the other clenched in his hair as they gazed at one another. He could feel the press, the yielding of Therse's flesh under his own, and it took every fiber of his restraint not to just push his way in there in one swift move. "Go slowly," Therse told him. "Right," he said. Gen didn't want to hurt him, after all. Therse smirked up at him, blushing hard. "It's for your benefit, not mine. Idiot." Gen claimed his lips again; those full, beautiful, wise-ass lips, if only to shut him the hell up. But as he pushed in, he understood Therse's meaning. Inside of him was hot and moist and so wonderfully, unbearably tight, and if Gen was to last any time at all this would have to be done gradually. He only had the head of his cock in, and already he felt fit to burst. He bit hard on Therse's neck and he gasped, squeezing just that little bit tighter, fucking squeezing around him so much that he could feel Therse's pulse from the inside. "Tight," he managed. "Sorry," Therse muttered, and some of the tension around Gen released a little, allowing him in a little further. 221

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His mind felt full of everything and nothing at the same time, empty of anything but Therse, this moment, that feeling; flooded with suddenly-realized want and need. Therse was being a damn hypocrite, telling him to go slowly with his mouth but urging him impatiently on with his body, hands pulling in his hair, pushing down on his ass as they kissed hard, the actions of Therse's tongue near pushing him to his limit. He rammed the rest of the way in. Therse's head tilted back as he cried out. That had been a bad idea. A sheer selfish indulgence that Gen regretted immediately. "Move," Therse told him, breathing hard. "Please move." He pulled out, reluctantly, guilt piled in the pit of his stomach for such reckless impatience. When he was out all the way Therse's head snapped back up, face heavy with the most terrifying glare he'd ever seen. "Gen, I swear to god if you don't get back in and fuck me right now I'm going to fucking kill you." "But you just —" he said, confused. "That was because it felt good." He felt the color drain from his cheeks and head straight for his cock. "Oh," he managed. Therse watched him expectantly as he positioned himself again, and Gen felt hands grip his shoulders as he thrust all the way inside. And then he took a moment. Slower was definitely better, in this case, but really that wasn't what either of them wanted. Slow had been everything up to this point—the teasing, the tension, the lingering looks at Therse 222

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he couldn't quite explain to himself. He was fucking done with slow. Therse felt so fucking good beneath him, so soft and hot inside it made him hate himself for all those wasted opportunities, all the times he could have just pinned him up against the wall and claimed him. Therse's face was contorted in frustration, brows knit in the middle, mouth open against Gen's kiss. He bit down on Therse's bottom lip, preparing himself for what would inevitably be over far sooner than either of them hoped, but he was tired of holding in how he really felt, what he really wanted. And he wanted to screw the fucking life out of Therse. He began with a measured rhythm, making Therse moan as though he was being pounded already. Therse's legs shuddered around him as he broke from the kiss, panting for air, looking up at Gen like he had something to say, then forgot it in all the distraction. They were both sweating already, sweating together, his body moving back and forth over Therse, hands wanting to touch him, to feel him all over but clenched in the bed sheets for purchase. Gen kissed him again, not wanting to be parted from his lips. He was annoyed at himself, still holding back, unable to give in to his body's demands in case this was the only opportunity he ever got to do this, wanting to string it out and make it last as long as possible. Therse was losing it beneath him now, starting to rise up to meet him in rhythm with his thrusts, making things infinitely worse because now it meant he had to think about it, had to think about the feeling of that hot, tight space 223

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sucking him in, the feeling of Therse spreading around his cock as he pushed inside. Pretty soon there wasn't room in his mind left for anything else. "Harder," Therse uttered, clawing pleadingly at his ass and back. Something snapped inside him and suddenly he was free, throwing off the shackles of restraint as he pounded down into Therse, forcing him to grip tight and cry out, looking up at Gen with an expression that told him he was doing it just right. Therse was under him, wrapped around him, clamped hot and soft and holy-shit amazing over him as he thrust inside, and he was begging for this feeling never to be over. He was moaning from it himself, his voice twisting with Therse's as they moved in tandem. He leant in to whisper into Therse's ear. "You feel so fucking good," Therse spasmed beneath him, head thrown back and noise pouring out of him, taking Gen aback until he realized what was happening; Therse's hot, wet orgasm spilling between them as Gen pushed him through it, finding the edge himself as Therse tightened around him, muscle tensing in waves over him in a way that was obscenely pleasurable. He pressed his groin to Therse and buried himself as far as he could go, holding Therse as close and tight as was possible, gasping for air as he came though it was like his lungs wouldn't move; every element of his consciousness centered on his cock and the man around it as he melted deep into him. 224

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He shuddered and lay against Therse's hot, rising chest, breathless. Therse's fingers ran tenderly through his sweatplastered hair, teasing it from his forehead. "Holy shit," Gen heard him breathe, and laughed. He wanted to lift his head and look at Therse, but right now that felt like an insurmountable effort. "Was that okay?" he chuckled, stroking Therse's nipple. This was a unique experience in more ways than one. He'd never been in a position where he didn't want to leave immediately after sex before. But right now he was quite happy to lie against Therse, over his hard, warm body and between his strong thighs, listening to the rhythm in his chest slow as the sweat dried on their skin. "Yeah, not bad for your first time." Therse goaded him. Gen pinched his nipple and made him jolt, made the muscle around him tense and cause him to flinch. He withdrew, reluctantly, but stayed laying between Therse's legs. It was just...more comfortable. Therse was grinning down at him, spent and tousled and utterly beautiful, and Gen wanted him all over again. "So I guess this changes everything." Therse kissed him softly. "I guess it does." "Does it always feel like this?" Gen asked, rolling off. "Like what?" "Like once isn't nearly enough." **** The blush returned to Therse's cheeks. He felt the same. 225

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All those long years spent goading and fighting. All that time wasted, when this was what they'd really wanted from one-another but had been too afraid to admit it. Gen was lying beside him, hard and perfect and naked against him. He placed a hand to Gen's chest, slipping down over his taut musculature as Gen rose to meet his wandering caress, reaching the warm, blonded curls at his groin and stroking his already re-awakening erection. He pressed down further, and Gen spread his thighs, watching him closely. "While we're both recovering," he whispered, slipping a finger over Gen's ass. Then he stopped, and looked up into Gen's face. "I won't do anything if you're not comfortable with it, but I promise you it'll be worth the weirdness. And I'm good, Gen. I'm very, very good." "What made you think I was uncomfortable with it?" Gen said, biting Therse's bottom lip. Therse didn't waste a second, rolling on top of Gen and between his thighs as they kissed forcefully, Gen's hands all over him again. He broke the kiss and raised himself up, looking down between them, taking in Gen's naked, sweating form, himself between Gen's thighs, their filled, heavy lengths rubbing together. Better than he ever could have imagined. He kissed Gen again, flicking his tongue seductively and making Gen groan and press against him. He was so hard again already, so impatient to push inside after all these years of secret yearning, but he needed to take it slow. Besides which, he wanted to indulge, to enjoy the feeling of 226

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them both together, to explore Gen's body and find all the places that made him hot. He kissed his way down, along Gen's neck and over his chest, finding nipples with his tongue and feeling Gen's cock twitch against him. He reached down for it, finding a slow rhythm as he worked his way south. Gen's hands were in his hair, encouraging him down, fingers tightening as he tongued along the firm lines leading to Gen's groin. Gen's thighs spread wider, breath rapid in his chest in anticipation. Therse blew over Gen's already-dripping cock, then bit him on the inner thigh instead, making him twitch and tug on his hair. Therse licked up the underside of Gen's length and his head dropped back, thighs spreading, moaning as Therse pushed his lips down over him. Gen was big in his mouth, head flaring past his lips as he moved, so deliciously stiff against his wandering tongue. "Shit you're good," Gen muttered, then glared down as Therse released his cock. "Onto your stomach," Therse told him. Gen obliged. He lifted Gen's hips, tilting them slightly for a better angle. The view alone was almost enough to make him come outright—Gen's tight virgin ass and the firm curve of his buttocks, the line of his lithe, muscular back down to his broad shoulders, skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. Gen flexed under his hands, demanding his attention. That shred of impatience went straight to Therse's cock, clearing his mind and forcing his focus. Working with slicked fingers and tongue, he spread Gen slowly, patiently opening him up, getting him used to the 227

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feeling. The task required a hell of a lot more self-control than he'd anticipated, given that he'd prepared for how good Gen would feel inside, how hot and how tight and soft he'd be, but hadn't calculated for Gen's encouraging responses; the flexing, the squeezing, the groaning as he pushed in deeper. Gen was leaking already, and Therse hadn't even reached his prostate yet. It was becoming a real effort not to touch his own cock. He wanted so badly to be inside Gen, needed to push into him and fill him up, ached to see himself disappear deep into him. "Is it okay if I—?" he said, voice low and husky with arousal. "Yes. Please," Gen told him. Pleading. Pleading for Therse to fuck him. Never in a million years would he have thought he'd live to see the day. He lubed up his cock, shuddering from the ribbons of pleasure just that caused him, and pushed his head up against Gen. So often he'd thought of this. So many times he'd imagined what it would feel like. He wondered if Gen had, too. The man's hands were clenching in the bed sheets now; the anticipation was killing them both. He pressed forward, watching with open mouth and furrowed brows as Gen spread around him, over him, swallowing him whole. It felt so good his thighs were shuddering. He gripped Gen's hips and bit down on his bottom lip, pushing in bit by bit, feeling Gen tense and relax around him in waves. "How far...?" Gen strained into the bed. "About...about half-way," 228

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"Fuck, you're huge," He couldn't hold back any longer and pushed all the way in, forcing a gasp from Gen. "Sorry," he said, pulling back out, then sliding in deep again. "You shouldn't say things like that. Are you all right?" Gen nodded, and that was all he was getting. It was as though his mind was made of neon lights, all speeding from the same direction. Things were simple for once. No weight on his shoulders, no wandering thoughts, no creeping sadness and guilt, only pleasure. Only him and Gen in the whole universe, only the heat between them, only that want and need, only Gen's warmth under him and tension around him. He began to move faster, hands wandering down Gen's back and gripping his waist, Gen flexing beneath him and pushing against his thrusts, working him, squeezing him in ways that made him gasp, made him flick his hips faster and faster. "How does it feel?" he breathed. **** Gen considered this for a moment. "I feel sort of like I have to pee." "Good." "What?" Therse leaned back and gripped Gen's hips, thrusting into him hard and hot, slamming up against him roughly. Suddenly that sensation was amplified, ten, a hundred times but better, shooting along his spine, unraveling in his 229

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twitching thighs as Therse pushed at places inside him in ways Gen hadn't known were possible. It was uncontrollable, like he was speeding towards a blinding light. When Therse stopped he arched with frustration, fingers curling tight into the covers. He could still feel Therse against him, fully inside him, hands resting firm on his hips. He tensed around Therse and glanced back at him, hoping the message would get through. Therse withdrew altogether, and Gen damn near killed him. Gen was up in a flash and on him, grabbing him roughly and pulling him in, their hands frantic over one another again. He shoved Therse backwards and mounted him before he could get away. The surprised look he got was worth it alone. He took Therse in hand, watching his face as he eased down, Therse's hands riding over his thighs and stomach. Gen let his head drop back, flicking his hips with each thrust, using Therse's cock to drive himself mad with ecstasy. Had he known it could be this good, he'd have propositioned Therse years ago. Retrospect was a bitch. Therse's hand wrapped around him and he flinched, adjusting to having two tangled focal points of pleasure rather than one. Therse was looking up at him admiringly. "Christ Gen, you've no idea how long I've needed to say this, and it's never been truer than right now, but fuck I want you." "You have me," Gen told him. That seemed to flip a switch in Therse's brain and suddenly he was overbearingly strong, rising up beneath Gen and tipping him off balance, wrestling him over onto his back with 230

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a deep, passionate kiss. Gen threaded his fingers into Therse's soft auburn hair and spread his thighs wide against Therse's thrusts. Therse bit down on Gen's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Gen," he whispered, beginning to move even faster. "I can't hold back any more." Therse pushed harder, deeper, starting to hit the right place inside. Therse was an idiot for presuming he should hold back in the first place. "Oh shit," Gen gasped as he flooded with that sensation. "Feels good, feels fucking good." The first echoes of orgasm were starting to trip up his spine again. He took Therse roughly by the hair. "You fucking stop this time, and I'll kill you." That only convinced Therse to move faster, to grip Gen's cock tight and pump him hard. Gen could feel the brink approaching, could hear his own voice loud and desperate as he held Therse's hard, thrusting, sweating body close, felt Therse's lips against his own, breathed in the scent of him, watched Therse's beautiful face twisted in his own pleasures as the orgasm began to lance through him, harder than he'd ever felt it before. It shook Gen's whole body as Therse emptied him, milked everything out of him, overwhelmed him entirely until he was an exhausted, spent mess. He opened his eyes, barely able to even think, and gazed up at Therse. "That was," he breathed. Therse just smiled at him, and kissed him. Gen let his arms fall back against the bed, still completely addled from the best orgasm he'd ever had. Again. 231

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Therse kissed his neck tenderly, moving in and out of him, but slower. It still felt damn good. "You don't have to hold back for my benefit," Gen told him. Therse smiled at him, tugging on his bottom lip and rocking gently into him. "I'm not." Gen felt Therse's hands slip under him, beneath his shoulders and back, holding him close. Gen sighed and ran fingertips up Therse's spine, forcing electric shudders from him. They kissed, slower now that some of the tension between them was spent. This way felt different. Deeper, somehow. Gen flexed against Therse's movement, their bodies working together, sweating together. **** It was getting too much for Therse. "I just don't want to come yet..." Gen threaded gentle fingers into his hair and kissed him. "Therse," Therse felt a hand rest on his ass, groping him in time with each thrust. "Fuck me, Therse," Therse stopped moving altogether. "Say shit like that and I'm done for," he muttered, trying to push the words out of his mind. The situation was difficult enough to deal with as it was. He'd been fighting against the white pressure settling behind his balls for a good few minutes now, his body all but screaming for orgasm. "Really," Gen said, mischievously. He pulled on Therse's hair, holding him down so his mouth was close to Therse's ear. "Fuck me," he whispered. "I want you to come inside me." 232

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Therse bit his lip and pushed deep, holding as still as possible, and took a moment. He ached for Gen everywhere, in every possible way, and even though he was buried up to the hilt inside him, it somehow wasn't enough. He wanted more. Gen tilted Therse's chin so they were gazing at one another. "I love you," Gen told him, brushing his cheek. Those whispered words saw the end to him. Therse came, hard and breathless, exploding with Gen's name on his lips and no reason to hold it back any longer, rocking into him until he was done, filling him up as Gen held him tight. "Can't resist a victory even during sex, huh?" Therse breathed, putting his sweat-plastered brow to Gen's. "Not my fault you're such a push-over." Therse thumped a weak fist against Gen's chest. "Stop that; if we have sex again right now I'll die. Of exhaustion and dehydration." "Not a bad way to go though, eh? Anyway, I'm glad we cleared up that...longstanding misunderstanding...best conflict resolution I've ever had." Therse laughed softly, slumping down against him, beginning to slip under already. "I don't want to sleep, in case this all isn't real tomorrow," he muttered into Gen's ear. "You worry too much about what's coming next. If you spend your life thinking ahead, planning your little tactical scenarios for every element of life, you're going to miss out on what's right here, right now. When you wake up tomorrow 233

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I'll still be right here, I'll still think you're an asshole, and I won't want you any less than I do right now." "So damn wordy," Gen nuzzled into Therse's hair. "Shut up, bastard." **** Therse had watched Gen sleeping a number of times before. In the dorms at the academy when they'd bunked side-by-side, the occasions Gen would fall asleep at the table of the academy mess after too much late studying, on Yemis, hoping so badly for him to wake up. All in secret, when he'd been filled with bitterness and self-loathing for loving someone so despicable, or numb from the deadening ache of wanting someone he could never have. This time though, he needed no excuses for watching the beautiful man sleeping beside him. They'd spent the night together, the most amazing night of Therse's life. He studied Gen carefully, making a mental note of every small movement, savoring each moment, the seconds flowing past unnoticed with each rhythmic rise and fall of Gen's chest. Therse wasn't gazing longingly at his best friend any more. He was watching his naked lover as he slept, learning his scent, his warmth. Therse thought of the night before, of how everything between them had finally come to a head, and smiled to himself. He'd done the worst, most unthinkable thing—he'd let Gen in. Let him get close and let himself get close to Gen in return, and now he was more vulnerable than ever. 234

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But that was okay. In one night, Gen had taught him that by walling everyone out, he was just escaping his own happiness. He'd been frightened for a long, long time. Gotten used to living like that. Spent most of his life ducking and hiding from other people's affections, keeping them at arm's length in case he ended up getting hurt. But now that he'd gotten a taste of what it felt like to be happy, Therse wasn't afraid any more. He brushed some of Gen's long mess of hair back from his face, leaning forward to kiss him feather-soft on the lips. Gen stirred beneath him, and after a beat of orienting himself, Therse felt him push back into the kiss with the slightest of satisfied sighs. Therse pulled back, and they gazed at one another. "Morning," Therse said. "Hey," Gen smiled. Therse combed fingertips tenderly through Gen's messy blond hair as Gen watched him. "So, you're finally going to Command, huh?" Therse stopped, and met Gen's gaze. He stroked his hand guiltily along Gen's shoulder in small circular motions. "Yeah." "How long do we have here?" "Just under four weeks." "Four weeks," Gen echoed, rolling the words around as though they were the name of some beautiful woman. "Should be enough to make up for lost time. Then you can bugger off without feeling guilty for leaving me." "Oh, can I?" 235

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"I allow you." Therse's head dropped back into the pillow, and a grin fixed his features. "You're such a shit; why the hell did I sleep with you?" "I always did say you had poor judgment." "You realize saying that reflects badly on you." "I can live with that," Gen said. Therse prodded him in the side and he sprang into a defensive stance, trying his best to look menacing under the duvet. Then his expression softened into a smile, and he looked away. "What?" Therse asked him. "I dunno, I just," Gen muttered, tilting his head so that his hair fell forward again, covering his eyes. "What? What is it?" "I don't want to say, you'll just laugh." "Try me." Therse brushed Gen's hair away over his forehead. His expression was that of a child who doesn't want to learn something disappointing. "Do you think I'll make a good officer?" That took Therse by surprise. "Of course, why wouldn't I?" "I don't know, it...it just seems like everyone's taking off, and I'm still stuck on the launch strip. Forever waiting to fly but never quite making it." "You'll launch when you're ready," Therse said. "You don't have to be so afraid of growing up, you know. Once you take off, that's when the fun really starts." 236

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"I think I'm afraid I might crash and burn." Gen stroked Therse's cheek, and he was hard in an instant. "You won't. You'll fly just as high as the rest of us." Gen's fingertip ran along Therse's jaw. "You know, I'm almost glad you forced me into a seven-week voyage without cryosleep." Therse nipped at the pad of Gen's wandering finger and raised his eyebrows. "'Almost'?" "Yeah. And by the way, you never answered my question." "Huh? Oh..." He leant up on one elbow and cleared his throat. "I think you're an annoying, grating, infuriatingly stubborn bastard —" "That wasn't part of any question I asked." "Then," Therse looked down at Gen, wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, and smiled from a deeper place. Then he finally uttered the words he'd waited nearly five years to say. "...yes. I'm in love with you." "Better." "Ass." "Jerk." [Back to Table of Contents]

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EPILOGUE Malam Kenes and Byrn Dofe sat side by side in the shuttle waiting lounge. They'd been there almost an hour now, in the empty, forgotten region of the station hub, and Byrn was beginning to get restless. Mal reached over to him with an offer of some salted snack, not looking away from her screen for a second. "Want one?" she asked, jigging the packet so the contents rustled about. "Nah, I'm good." "Suit yourself." She popped another one in her own mouth. He scrutinized the wrapper in her hand, nose wrinkling in disgust. "Do you have any idea what those are?" "Pieces of pig skin, first boiled then fried." She crunched one loudly, shooting him a lecherous gaze. "Delicious." He stared back at her flatly. "When the hell are they going to get here? They're already an hour late." "Do I look like the public announcement service? Just relax, they'll be here eventually." Byrn sighed and folded his arms across his broad chest. He imagined the two of them alone in the waiting area must look like an odd sight—Mal was no puny weakling by any means, but he was at least twice her weight and a full foot taller than her. Then he noticed Mal studying him. "What?" "You've missed them; that's sweet." "No more than you, I reckon, given that you're here as well." 238

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"Eh," she shrugged, and returned to reading her screen. Byrn had been unfortunate enough to peer over her shoulder to see what she was reading earlier. "I really wish you wouldn't read graphic porn in public," he muttered. He immediately regretted it. She got that look she did when you were about to be put in your place in a way you'd never see coming. "I'm terribly sorry," she said, smoothly. "Do I embarrass you?" He thought about it for a moment. "I'd prefer not to answer that." "Good call." The door at the end of the white corridor hissed open, and arrivals were announced over the tannoy. From behind the circular roll-door, the familiar shapes of Therse and Gen appeared, somewhat more amicably than Mal might have expected after such a long cruise with only each other for company. She narrowed her eyes as Byrn got to his feet to meet them, then realized, snorting with amusement and flipping her screen away as she stood. "What?" Byrn asked her, turning back. "So they finally fucked. Took them long enough." He watched her go. "What the hell are you talking about?" ][Terminal Regret (formerly Jetty)] Hello. ][Terminal Regret (formerly Jetty)] Hello. [[Weapons Grade] All right already. What do you want? 239

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][Terminal Regret (formerly Jetty)] I just thought you might like to know that your Commander's social experiment was a success. [[Weapons Grade] Oh, he will be thrilled. Not as thrilled as he could have been had he gotten to bask in the light of his success in situ, but that man is spoiled enough as it is. Wait—tell me, why are you passing this on at all? I didn't think you were interested in the dealings of lowly humans. ][New Eden (formerly Terminal Regret, formerly Jetty)] I never thought of them as lowly, I just refused to be further involved in their affairs after one bad experience too many. I ditched my crew and took off for a while until they finally caught up with me—it was either this or get scrapped so it's not like I had a choice. After that I kept my distance from people. But I've enjoyed watching these two, they're different than the humans I was used to. Nice to see how they've both grown since I last saw them. If they can change so much, maybe there's hope after all. It's been fun. I might even go and ask for my old job back. END

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