One month into basic training, Brinus’s new commander sat across from him, watching. Brinus’s arms were relaxed, and his body was in proper military posture. The commander tapped his stylus on the desk, and Brinus shook his leg.

  His Commander’s office was large, the size of a studio apartment, lined with solid mahogany paneling. It had a solid oak desk with a miniature black powder cannon on top. Next to his computer terminal was a brass plaque labeled “Lt. Commander Theodore.” Five shelves filled with datapads lined the two side walls. His family coat of arms was over the white marble fireplace in the back, and the floor was stained gunstock oakwood.

  Commander Theodore was a 29-year-old, round-faced, green-eyed, brown haired human from Earth with a long and lean build. He was two heads above the minimum height requirement and had pale skin with a pink complexion.

  He looked at Brinus after adjusting his seat. “I understand you wish to sign up for the fight club, correct?”

  Brinus looked his commander in the eyes and shrugged. “Yes, sir. I always wanted to fight professionally.”

  He smiled and put his hands behind his head. “Stinkball. You’re in the Navy now, not the syndicate. You need to finish basic training first.” The commander tapped his fingers on the desk and adjusted his coat. “Are you familiar with Kobchi?”

  “I’ve heard of it, but don’t know much, sir. I just saw the fights on TV and wanted to do it myself.”

  Commander Theodore looked at Brinus and made a few notes on a datpad. “Kobchi is a competitive martial art designed to hurt the opponent and do damage without killing the other opponent. It has quite the following and a large competitive league. Are you sure you wish to take the fight club?”

  “I’ll take the fight league!” Brinus grinned in excitement

  “I’ll tell Dr. Norra you’re interested. He will decide to take you on or not. However, you do smoke excessively, so he may want you to cut back before taking you. Dismissed Stinkball.”

  Brinus stepped outside of the office and into the hallway.

  He fist-pumped into the air and walked away, laughing in excitement.

  Commander Theodore watched Brinus outside of his office on a camera screen. He rolled his eyes and then began writing two reports. One was a request to join the ship’s fight club; the other was a request to have Brinus transferred out of his department. he thought.

  Thirty minutes later, Captain Plato had a glass of whisky and an eyedrop vile next to him. His fur was dull, and his ears were droopy. The Captain looked at the found Person’s report from the Magi for Brinus.Thought Captain Plato.

  There was a knock on the door. “Enter,” yelled Plato.

  Theodore entered, and they both exchanged salutes. “I just met Brinus. I don’t know if he’ll make a good team member.”

  Captain Plato’s whiskers twitched, and his tail flicked from side to side rapidly. “Would you like a drink, Commander Theodore? I put some rage in it for you.”

  Commander Theodore sighed and crossed his arms. “Sir, it isn’t even the high noon watch yet. Shouldn’t you be cutting back?”

  Captain Plato poured the commander a glass anyway and sat back down. “Sit. No doubt you heard about the coup. The 3rd Task Force has been dispatched to Sector 22 in District 12. The Navy AI has determined that an invasion is most likely to take place there. I want you to run battle drills during the afternoon watch in the reactor room to get ready for combat.”

  Commander Theodore rolled his eyes and scoffed as he waved his hand dismissively. “If you’re worried about battle readiness, people like Brinus will only hurt my team.”

  Captain Plato leaned back in his chair with an unreadable expression on his face. He crossed his hands, and his whiskers twitched in an unaturally stiff posture. “You knew Brinus was a criminal when you took him in, and that training him would take longer and be more intense than with a normal cadet. I put him on your team two weeks ago. You were happy to have a metallurgist on your robotics crew. I thought you were here to discuss war business.” Captain Plato took another swig of his spiked drink.

  “Sir, he is a convicted felon. Hell, he wants to join the ship’s fight club so he can hurt people. He isn’t suitable for recruitment due to his felon status, and I want him transferred.”

  His fur became puffy, and his ears went back against his head. He glared at his commander for a moment or two.

  Commander Theodore swallowed from nerves. He had a wide-eyed expression as he sat in military posture in the chair.

  Captain Plato leaned forward. “Here’s how it will be! You will make this work. He has promised not to engage in criminal activity anymore. Thus far, nothing valuable has gone missing. For the most part, he seems to have put his life of crime behind him. I realize it has only been two weeks. Now, do you have any war business to discuss?”

  “Sir, you need to consider what having a syndicate member on an engineering crew will do.”

  “Dismissed, commander,” Captain Plato snapped, waving his hand to say shoo. His pupils were fully dilated now, and his tail flicked rapidly from side to side.

  “Sir...”

  Captain Plato hissed, his ears pulled back again, and he let out a cat howl.

  Commander Theodore saluted and rose from his seat.

  Captain Plato said as Theodore was leaving, “I don’t like being ambushed like this. Don’t come back to me again with concerns about Brinus unless he has done something worth bringing to my attention. I have thirty thousand men, women, and humanoids under my command, and I don’t have time for your petty interdepartmental squabbles. Oh, and I shredded you’re transfer request. He's you’re problem, not mine.”

  The chief engineer knew Brinus would be at his robotics station by now. He knew it was best to just swallow his feelings and let it play out. He salueted and left the office.

  As the hours passed, Commander Theodore processed the paperwork for Lieutenant Aura’s business license when the smoke alarm in Brinus’s workstation activated. He looked at the camera and saw Brinus welding shirtless and smoking at his station. He sent a text message to the lieutenant to check on Brinus and see the cause. She sent a thumbs up and a yes, sir.

  Brinus’s robotics workstation was crisp and clean. Replacement parts were stacked neatly in labeled boxes, and the tools were sorted by category. The only mess was on the floor was made up of scattered metal shavings and a couple dozen cigarette butts hinting at long hours and bad habits.

  Sparks flew off Brinus’s bare chest from the brass rings of a moonstone pipe. He headbanged to the heavy metal song singing along as he did. The music was so loud it vibrated the metal fragments on the floor and drowned out the sound of the welding torch. Smoke billowed out of his workshop, and he couldn’t hear the smoke detector going off.

  The first watch bell rang to signal the mid-morning watch. His uniform shirt and undershirt were folded on the workbench behind him. Finally, he attached the third brass ring to the pipe. He then... Suddenly, the music was cut off.

  “What the Hell?!” Brinus yelled at the sudden silence.

  Brinus turned and saw his new lieutenant, Lieutenant Aura. His face scrunched up in a screw-you smile as he look directly at his direct superior. He was shirtless and glistened in a layer of sweat from the heat and smoke in the workshop. Brinus couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to shut off his music and interrupt his flow. He removed his mask and welding gear.

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  “Are you blind, Stinkball?” screamed the lieutenant, jamming her nose into Brinus’s face and moving his head to the fire in the smelting furnace. “Or the no smoking sign?” She jerked his head to the No Smoking sign above the sliding door. “I know you started this fire and I am taking the cost to repair the damage out of your pay!”

  Brinus balled up his fists, and his pupils dilated, as he pulled his arms back subconsciously.

  She slapped Brinus across the face leaving a red handprint. “What the fuck did you say to me, Stinkball?!” She jammed her finger into his bare chest.

  Brinus had a deadpan expression as he realized he was in deep trouble.

  “Did you just threaten me?”

  Brinus stood at attention and stared into her eyes with his screw-you smile.

  She screamed into Brinus’s right ear as she stood so close to him she could smell the cigarettes and sweat on his bare chest and hair. “I want you to give me 30 push-ups and 30 up-downs right fucking now and you will lift that steel plate over your head and hold it until your arms shake!”

  Brinus mumbled something below his breath about how much the military sucked.

  The lieutenant was so close to his face that her spit flew into his nose and eyes, “Do it now or I will show you how much the military fucking sucks! Drop down and give and give me 35!”

  Because of his heavy smoking, he struggled with the up-downs and barely made it to 22— He couldn’t do 35.

  Brinus thought as he finished the 23rd up-down completely fatigued and out of breath.

  He was so out of breath that he coughed like he had an asthma attack and was in the tripod position. However, he did pass medical, therefore, she guided him through a deep breathing exercise to help him catch his breath. He breathed out of his mouth and in through his nose. It took a few moments, but he was able to regain control of his breath.

  Lifting the 150-pound steel plate was easy. Holding the plate, however, was a different story. His arms shook after a moment or two, and then he ran out of breath again. The lieutenant guided him through the breathing exercises once more. He dropped the plate, making a loud bang like a gunshot. He struggled with the 35 push-ups and barely made it.

  He was on the floor, breathing heavily and completely incapacitated, with his hand over his heart and his legs curled up. It took a few moments, but he was able to stand at attention.

  The lieutenant went into Brinus’s face and screamed, “Now, next time, you will not show me such disrespect again, and you will use proper PPE when welding. You will always address me as lieutenant, ma’am, or lieutenant ma’am. We will repeat this exercise every day until you learn this lesson three times a day! Dismissed!” The lieutenant looked at Brinus cross-eyed and then tilted her head. “Just wondering, how are you able to weld for hours without burns?”

  “I’ve always been resistant to burns, ma’am.”

  “As you were, Stinkball.”

  She looked at him with slanted eyes as if she studied him.

  The lieutenant quietly left the lab with a shocked look on her face. Welding shirtless for five hours was bizarre. She decided to submit a report to the captain and the chief engineer, and she mentioned how he caused a fire in his metal smelter the Navy got for him because he smoked around it.

  Brinus walked over to the industrial replicator and copied a lab coat, uniform, leather gloves, and a safety vest. He then went back to attaching the brass rings onto the moonstone pipe, headbanging to his music.

  Four Hours Later:

  Brinus worked on the reports for all the droids and moonstone pipes he had repaired before and during the day watch. His office was very vanilla and lacked basic decorations beyond a few holograms of him and Simmie on camping and fishing trips. It had a very generic office chair from the office supply store on the promenade, a basic metal desk he bummed from a petty officer first class, and an ashtray he replicated with twenty-two butts next to his computer terminal.

  “Come in!” Brinus yelled as someone knocked on the door.

  An older man who looked to be in his sixties with silver hair and a physically strong body entered Brinus’s office.

  The man crossed his arms and jeered with his left lip curled in disgust. “So you’re my newest recruit. I read up on your service record.”

  Brinus looked at the older man and sneered without looking up from the computer terminal monitor. “What’s your name and rank, sir?”

  “I am Master Chief Petty Officer Norrie. You can call me Master Chief or Master Chief, sir. I understand you served with the pirate Long Ho for ten years and are a convicted felon.”

  “Yes, Master Chief, you are correct, sir,”

  The older man sat across from Brinus in front his metal and fake wood desk, he kicked his feet in front of him and titled his head to the side. “Coming onto a navy vessel after ten years as a pirate and a professional burglar… the rules must be infuriating.”

  Brinus leaned back, put his arms behind his head, and smiled. He looked at the older gentleman in his eyes. “I’m findin’ it tough to adjust. I ain’t got my usual outlets and I think Kobchi might be an awesome way to vent some of that there energy, sir.”

  Master Chief Norra put his hands and whistled. “I see you smoke. I don’t normally take on heavy smokers due to injury risk but I heard you can weld shirtless. Why don’t you just quit if you don’t like the Navy? I read you’re service record.”

  “What if I just go away in the middle of the night or walk off my post ’n go back to my crew? Is that what you’re sayin’?”

  “Is that what you are? When things get tough, you just quit? Do you want to spend the rest of your life in prison?”

  Brinus flashed his screw-you smirk. “Then who will go camping with my new boyfriend this weekend?”

  “I will see you at my dojo tomorrow at 1600 hours. We will do a physical assessment and give you a trial run. I am still hesitant to you on but I want to give you a chance.”

  They shook hands, and Dr. Norra left.

  Brinus leaned into his chair and with his hands behind his head as he fantasized about crowds cheering him on and winning fights. The prize money he could give to public alternative schools.

  After a moment of reflection, he went back to work.

  After supper, Brinus worked on a servo motor with multiple stripped screws. In his left hand was a device called a magnetic screwdriver. It was an electric screwdriver with an electromagnetic head that bonded with the screw to remove it using the magnet.

  Simmie entered as Brinus removed the stripped screws and carbon scoring. He quietly grabbed a giant carbon steel alloy plate and began welding a section off to put as a patch. The music hid his footsteps.

  Over the loud music, Simmie screamed over the music, “Guess who!” He threw another plate as hard as he could onto the floor. It made a deafening bang and vibrated the room.

  Brinus jumped, dropping the welding torch on the floor. It automatically deactivated as he scrambled out of his chair. He then raised his fists in a fighting position until he realized it was Simmie.

  Brinus dropped his fists and laughed out of relief and anger. “Holy gods! Fuck! ’ya scared me! I could’ve killed ya! Don’t do that again!”

  He turned and faced Simmie as they were now nose to nose. Brinus rested his arms on the top of Simmie’s shoulders and smiled. Simmie put his hands on Brinus’s waist.

  Simmie asked, smiling at Brinus, “Are you packed?”

  Brinus shrugged and gave Simmie. “I don’t know what to pack—never been on a camping trip like this here before. When I looked up survival campin’, it recommended different shit on different sites. I put in the paperwork like ya asked. My lieutenant still hasn’t responded. Being in port is the only chance we got of gettin’ work done on some of the components. I may not get the time off.”

  Simmie and Brinus smiled at each other for a moment, and then Simmie said, “Just pack some basic survival gear. I’ll send you a list by the fifth bell tomorrow. It isn’t much.” Simmie laughed and tapped Brinus on the side of his face.

  Brinus sat down, ruffed Simmie’s hair, and returned to work. “Fer real, don’t do that again.”

  They both laughed.

  Simmie picked up one of the motors and looked at it. “The ball bearings are worn down, and you need to break the seal and replace the balls. That was why you can’t fix it.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Obvious. Get lost.” Both Brinus and Simmie cackled for a moment.

  He snatched the motor from Simmie’s hand. They both laughed until the lieutenant walked into Brinus’s workshop.

  Lieutenant looked at Brinus. “The captain approved your leave. Good luck to you, too. I know a few campsites if y’all are interested.”

  “We are camping on my father’s land,” joked Simmie, ruffling Brinus’s hair.

  Brinus eyed up Simmie to see when was the right time to slap his ass, and Simmie rolled his eyes afterward but threw him a half smirk of appreciation.

  The lieutenant smiled and left the two lovebirds.

  Meanwhile, Captain Plato was on the bridge. He used the spyglass to look at the transwarp bubble. “Something is off. I can feel it in the inertial dampeners and chronoton benders. Also, the transwarp bubble’s colors seem slightly different from an hour ago.”

  The commander approached Captain Plato and said, “We may be coming on a subspace disruption. Do you want to end transwarp and go to light speed?”

  The commander stood next to the captain and said, looking at the bubble. “Light speed will use too much fuel too quickly. This change feels more like an obstruction of some sort. Helmsman 3rd class! What do the scanners say?”

  The sensor officer said, “Scanners show clear space ahead.”

  Captain Plato closed the spyglass and put it in front of him. “Helmsman, shut down the transwarp core.”

  “Aye, sir!”

  The ship exited transwarp. Four Federation cruisers surrounded it.

  The captain and commander exchanged confused glances. Then, Plato ordered, “Hail them.”

  The commodore of the cruiser conveys onto the screen. “Confederate Command ship, you have entered Federation space. Turn around or be fired on.”

  Captain Plato laughed. “You can’t be serious!? The Federation gave up its claim to this sector 400 years ago! Your junta is declaring war on the Confederacy! I tell you what; turn around, and we won’t destroy your ships and kill your crewmen. I will pretend this shit show didn’t happen. What do you say?”

  “Confederate Vessel, you have 30 seconds to turn around, or we will open fire.”

  Plato looked at his communications officer. With his claw, he cut across his throat, and the screen cut off.

  Captain Plato took command of the bridge, sitting in the captain’s chair. “Communications officer second class, send out a distress call on a rotating frequency of twenty million hertz to ninety million hertz on subspace frequency one. Weapons officer, raise shields. Red alert. Battle-stations. Brace for impact. Commander, dispatch the fighters and bombers. Chief Petty Officer, wake the admiral and tell him the Federation just declared war on the Confederacy.”

  The sensor officer yelled over the sound of alarms, “Sir. Four more Federation signatures just jumped out of transwarp in the northwest quarter of the map!”

  “We’re under attack!” someone yelled from the back of the bridge.