Date: Tue, 25 Sep 2007 14:24:51 -0700 (PDT) From: Skyler Subject: The Coldest Place - Chapter 2 *----------------------------* The following story, novel, or chapter contains homosexual themes and is not intended for anyone under the legal viewing age. If depictions of homosexual activities disturb you, DON'T CONTINUE TO READ! You've been warned. Do not e-mail me and complain or harass me with hate mail over this story. I will ignore you, or, if I find your message humorous enough, I'll probably thank you for the best laugh of my life. Copyright 2007 - Skyler This is my second story...take it easy. Thanks :) Mine Shadow: /nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/mine-shadow/index.html *----------------------------* The Coldest Place Chapter Two -- My Next Battle As a Confederate officer, James didn't always get a choice about where he was sent. That was obvious from the beginning of the Ascendancy War, when he was placed right on the front lines. During that time, he, and his crew had proven the Galactic was more than a match for any Ascendancy vessel. His crew had been tested from the get-go. They were mostly new recruits, many of them from Ring Worlds -- something that had caused tension from day one. Most Cores didn't like Rings, as they're characterized as slow, dim-witted, and backwards. There were more than a few insults to send a Ring's way, namely `Ringer' or `Ring-head'. James had to break up many late-night fights even between his senior bridge officers. Tonight was no exception. Commander Falke had apparently insulted Lieutenant Aleardi, who was from a Ring World, and it took the threat of brig time to get the lieutenant to back down. James sorely wished sometimes everyone on his crew was from the same planet. Besides the whole ethnic problem, there was a pronounced...dislike of homosexuals in his crew, mainly from Rings. James had encountered it on his first day, when an Ensign mouthed the word `faggot' to another crewman and he saw it. Putting the ensign in the brig only seemed to further stoke the fires of dislike. Eventually he had forced his transfer to a different ship, the Flying Liberty. Last James had heard it was destroyed with all hands in the surprise attack on the Confederation. Yes, James had problems with his crew. But despite all of them, he was fiercely loyal and protective and would die for any of them. And it was that trait the molded them together. Right now the Galactic was patrolling a part of the border with the Ascendancy. The Confederation had lost quite a bit of ground to the Ascendants, and this was one area they didn't want to lose. The planet here was the largest supply depot for Confederate ships in the surrounding 250 light years. And James was sure the enemy knew that. * * * "We're ready, Captain." James looked over at his flight chief, who was prepping the shuttle for launch. Command had insisted James also stop over and tour the supply depot. Though it sounded fine on the outside, James could read between the lines and see what Command really wanted: a checkup to make sure the depot was commanded by a truly loyal officer. He had heard of some officers defecting to the Ascendancy, and it truly sickened him deep inside. What would make a man turn on his people? Greed? James thought to himself that at least he had the strength to resist any kind of temptation. Easily he stepped over the doorjamb and sat down in the seat next to the pilot, a young, dark haired man who he couldn't remember. That was the problem with commanding a ship with over twenty-five hundred crew -- it was difficult to place names and faces. The shuttle itself was standard: small, cramped, but the same cleanliness that you expected from Confederate vessels. With a nod to the pilot (who was wearing lieutenant stripes), he felt the rush of speed as the shuttle made its way to the open bay doors at the end of the shuttle pad, and then the inertial compensators kicked in and the push of g-forces relaxed. James felt a twinge of regret at the sudden lack of acceleration and remembered all the fun times as a child riding on roller coasters, screaming at the top of his lungs and waving his arms as they sped towards the ground. His ship was truly a beauty to behold, or at least, James thought so -- to himself. It was lean and aggressive, and looked like it was moving through space with a grace that only the most slender creatures could ever hope to achieve. It was over 2 kilometers long, and even from the distance they were now at, he could pick out the features on the hull -- a weapons port there, a sensor dish here. Sometimes he wondered at the complexity of it all, and how simple humans ever managed to make something like it. His attention was diverted as the ship slipped away from view and a small moon filled up the window. Down below them was the supply depot, and presumably some leave time. That was what James was looking forward to the most, and he guessed the pilot could see it in his eyes. "Are you ready for some time away from the ship, Captain?" The pilot has a gleam in his eye and a small smile on his attractive face. James gave a small sigh. "Yes, Lieutenant - very much so." He stretched back a little in the small seat, though his 6'1 frame didn't afford him a lot of room. He sincerely hoped the pilot wasn't going to chat through the entire journey. "So am I, Sir. I have some friends down on Concord. I was going to take a few hours to see them." Inward, James sighed, again. It appeared the pilot was going to talk. "I hope you enjoy yourself, Lieutenant." Perhaps that short reply would deter him. "Yeah I grew up near here, on Arindi. Have you ever been there, Captain?" Nope, he definitely wanted some conversation. James didn't want to be impolite, despite the comforts his rank afforded him. "No, I can't say I have." "It's beautiful, Captain! Gorgeous white sand beaches and sunsets that get so vivid you want to shield your eyes...and the scent at night; the air fills up with this most wonderful fragrance of fresh flowers." It was obvious to James that the pilot was pretty much in love with his homeworld. "It's like walking into a candy shop and breathing in the smell of freshly made toffee." Despite himself, James smiled. The pilot was really cute when excited. "I might have to check it out, Lieutenant, when we get some extra time." "Just give me the word, sir, and I'll show you around the entire planet!" James simply smiled and nodded. That was really all he had time for, since the speakers in the shuttle crackled with static. "Concord Depot to shuttlecraft. Submit identification codes." James handed his ID chip to the pilot, who slipped it into the slot and transmitted the codes to the depot. A moment later, a large docking bay door opened up on the surface of the moon. James braced himself for the depot's gravity to overtake their own. It was always uncomfortable to momentarily feel twice the gravity you were used to pulling down on you. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the lieutenant wince. "We've arrived, sir." The pilot informed him, a bit unnecessarily, in James's opinion. Outside the window he could see the depot's commander, or who he assumed to be the commander, waiting for him. The bay was enormous, and filled to capacity with other shuttles and even smaller cruisers and destroyers. He took a moment to size the commander up. He was tall, nearly as tall as James himself, with completely black hair that was just hitting regulation limits in length. His face was just...well, just classically handsome, and James felt a twinge in his stomach that had nothing to do with fear. He was suddenly reminded of how he felt when he first laid eyes on Nick all those years ago. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind and opened the shuttle's door. As the man walked near, he could see that he was outranked -- he was a First Commander, ranks above Captain. Unbidden thoughts of just what a First Commander could do to him in bed rose up and he quickly squashed them down. What was he thinking? He needed to be professional! "I am Captain James Pederson of the Galactic." He stuck out his hand, trying not to show how his heart suddenly doubled in speed when the man's warm hand enveloped his own. "Welcome to Concord, Captain. I'm Commander Patrick Hillerson, and I'm at your service." Was it his imagination, or did Hillerson just wink at him? "I um, have my orders right here, sir." Hillerson quickly looked them over. "We'll worry about those details later. Let me show you around the depot." He pointed to another officer, and motioned to the pilot. Without another word, he whisked James through a door at the end of the bay. "Captain, it is a real pleasure having you here. We get so many ships, in and out, but I rarely get the chance to meet someone new, especially someone that has been on the front lines. What's it like?" James recognized the hunger for information in Hillerson's eyes. Here was a man that longed to be in the action, but found himself stuck watching it from the sidelines. He felt a rush of empathy and knew in the same situation, he'd have probably gone a bit insane by now. He tried to think of the right way to describe how it felt sometimes. "It is...painful. It's exciting at times, especially when I'm winning, but many times it's a deep ache that I can't get rid of." Hillerson slowed down and ushered James into a small office. He looked around and saw the various personalized knickknacks that made it home, such as the pictures of friends and family, a bookshelf, a framed painting of the Earth, which was probably where Hillerson came from. "Please, continue, Captain." Hillerson sat down across the desk and motioned for James to find a seat, as well. James searched again for words to explain himself. "I feel like I'm making a difference with each Ascendancy ship I destroy, but sometimes I also wonder what difference it is that I'm making." Hillerson gave him a very small smile, so small and fleeting that James wasn't sure it was even there to begin with, and his palms began to sweat. "I am sure you know why Command asked you to come here, Captain?" "James." Hillerson smiled. "Pardon?" "Call me James. I won't salute if you won't." He gave him another smile, this one far more genuine. "James, I'm sure you know why Command asked you to come here, right?" James nodded. "I think they suspect someone is passing information to the Ascendancy from here, but I've been given no real information on it." "They do suspect something, and I think it's me they suspect. I think they believe that I've been betraying them to the Ascendancy." James was floored, but now a bit apprehensive. "And have you?" "No. But I have a feeling they're right, and I think I might know who it is. I have a lieutenant on my staff that was transferred here two months ago. About that time a series of transmissions were detected coming from here, but to where, we've never been certain." "And you think it's him sending them to the Ascendancy?" Hillerson nodded. "I do, at least. They were traced back to his console. So far I haven't said anything -- I don't want to scare off the traitor just yet. But because I haven't told Command yet, they're beginning to believe I'm covering for him." "Why are you telling me all of this?" James asked. "I have to protect myself, of course." "Protect yourself?" What did he need to protect himself from? Even if Command suspected something, he hardly would be called in front of a grand jury without some real hard evidence. If he was innocent, no evidence would exist. "Listen to me, Captain, one officer to another. I believe in the Confederacy. I believe that we have the right to control that which is ours how we wish. I believe in strength, and I believe in compassion. But I am *not* naïve enough to assume that my position is above reproach." James felt a thrill run through him. This was starting to feel like a spy game, just like the ones he'd played as a child. "What would you like me to do?" "Just...look around. See what you can find. Be unobtrusive, but figure out what is going on before Command decides to use me as a..." He was cut off by the wail of a siren and the sudden shaking of the depot. "What the fuck?" The Commander stood up quickly, sending his chair into the wall behind him. The picture of Earth slipped off of its nail and smashed onto the floor and at that precise moment, the lights went out. James reached out blindly for the desk that had just been in front of him a moment ago, but only succeeded in mashing his finger against the wall. "Shit!" He started nursing his finger. "Commander?" "I'm here, James." The voice came from not too far to his left, so he assumed that's where the door must be. The depot rocked again, but James decided the blasts were too infrequent -- it was probably auxiliary fire from the battle raging above the moon. "Looks like the Ascendancy decided to pay us a visit. They have great timing." He heard Hillerson chuckle. "We need to get out of this room, James. Hold on a moment." He heard the commander rummaging around the desk and a second later a loud click before the room lit up in a dim glow -- Hillerson was holding a palm light. "I have another one for you. Catch!" James reached out and caught the small metal device the commander tossed him. "Let's get going!" To Be Continued...