He felt much the same way about the cause of his headache. The king had a quivering messenger and a pile of reports detailing the Lingley Rebellion in...front of him. He was angry and did not have the patience for anyone on this day. His advisors surrounded him each offering different solutions of how to deal with the problems that he now faced. He could not hear their words or focus on anything but the unfathomable amount of rage he now felt. No one should disobey their king, was all he thought.. The reports didn't show any measurable change in the atmosphere's chemistry. She made a note to herself to ask about the lack of atmospheric processors.The majority of the industrial capacity was currently being earmarked to construct ships and essential facilities. Some of the manufacturing capacity was being diverted to develop parks and build recreational equipment. Grayson certainly had no issue with that. It was clearly a low priority item that used only a fraction of the available. That should just about do it for the regulars, he thought. Sliding the partition open, Father Secco began the seventh session of the day: "In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. You may begin." There was a pause and a shuffle and a little cough. Finally a quiet voice began, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was—um, like, maybe three years ago. These are my sins..."I'll bet this is it! Father Secco grinned as he leaned toward the screen. He. "Colt, I'm cold. Will you lay with me and keep me warm?" I said in my cutest voice. He smiled at me. "Sure." Colt laid down on his back and I cuddled up next to him. His body was warm under me. Being so close to him excited me. We lay there in silence for a while. And just as I was starting to think that it was a lost cause, Colt started rubbing my lower back. He pulled me closer to him, so that I was pretty much on top of him. He smiled and looked me in the eye. He winked and I laughed. He.