Brinus stood at the metal cutting machine. The slow, methodical crunch of the slicing tool on the 3-inch gear echoed through the busy workshop. Next to him was a pile of pipes and other gears as he worked. His eyes were droopy, and his muscles ached with soreness.

  Just as Brinus finished loading fresh lubrication into the milling machine, Akmal materialized.

  He snapped his fingers and demanded, “Brinus, you’ve been at this for 48 hours. I’m ordering you to stop.”

  “Let me finish this here, steel gear.”

  “Do you want me to get Lieutenant Don? The sensors indicate your fatigue is approaching dangerous levels.”

  Brinus yawned and then stretched. “I’m fine! Now fuck off!”

  “You’re committing an act of insubordination. You do realize that I’m ranked as a commissioned lieutenant as the ship’s sentient AI. If you do not stop, you will receive a formal warning.”

  Brinus turned and glared at Akmal’s avatar. He then rolled his eyes and deactivated the milling machine. “You’d really do that to your friend?”

  “I have my duty to the ship and to your safety. You're at a 64.89% risk of injury. Take a fucking break or I will get your supervisor involved. Final warning.”

  The machine shut down. Brinus looked at Akmal with an unreadable expression. “Why did the machine stop?”

  “I shut it down. You’ve got ten seconds to comply or I'll call you’re supervisor.”

  Brinus rolled his eyes and threw his towel onto the ground, stomping his foot into the ground. “Whatever.”

  He walked away as Akmal filed an incident report about Brinus but fudged it to leave out the insubordination and the rude comments. He edited the camera footage so that Brinus’s disrespect was deleted and replaced it with Brinus saluting and saying, “Yes, sir.”

  Akmal realized that over 6,000 requisition orders for medical supplies were submitted throughout the day. He used the ship's computing power to read through each one in half a microsecond. Once he finished, he approved 4,500 of them which were at the commissioned lieutenant level orders, and sent the rest to the department heads for high-level approval.

  Just as Akmal dealt with a minor coding error in a bio gel pack, he received a ping from Commander Theodore. A text chat was started between Akmal and Lt. Commander Theodore.

  Akmal finished with the bio gel pack error and materialized in the lieutenant commander’s office. Standing at attention, he yelled, “Sir, Sentient AI First Class Akmal Enlance reporting for duty, sir!”

  Commander Theodore held up his hand and sighed, “At ease, AI First Class. I just wanted to discuss something with you. Why did you fudge the incident report involving Acting Lieutenant Brinus Helios?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, sir!”

  Commander Theodore pulled up the incident report on his TriQuarter and recited it. “I had an incident involving Acting Lieutenant Helios. he refused to follow orders at first, but after some encouragement and positive words, he said ‘yes, sir’ and complied.” Commander Theodore looked at Akmal and then smirked. “Really? ? It’ll be a cold day in Greenland before Brinus does anything without arguing.” The commander laughed and then sat on his desk in front of Akmal. “I saved a copy of the incident report on my TriQuarter and undid the AI edits to the recording. You owe me two favors. One, for the deleted incident report and the other for resorting to the original footage. That’s all. Dismissed AI First Class.”

  Akmal disappeared into the ship and reappeared in his body. Tangent was taken off guard as she monitored the temperature of the fluid in the coral tank.

  “Your smoke break isn’t for another thirty minutes.”

  Akmal snapped as he reached for a pack of cigarettes and a light and walked out of the server room. “I need it now. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  Tangent rolled her eyes and saw the thermometer was at 28 degrees Celsius and the server room was at -4 degrees.

  Meanwhile, on the other side of the ship, Brinus came home and stripped down into his gym shorts. His face scrunched up in anger, and a yell escaped his mouth his fist met the gold leaf paneling and created a hole in the wall. He screamed for a moment. He thought.

  As Brinus settled into the bed, he crossed his ankles and flicked his Zippo lighter like a fidget spinner as it clicked metal on metal and ignited, making a soft ignition sound which soothed him. He popped a piece of orange-cream flavored gum in his mouth and popped a bubble; He then sent a text to Simmie.

   Love. I know you’re under stress. We’ll discuss this when I clock off for lunch in ten minutes. Please take care of yourself and don’t smoke. I saw you by the cigarette vending machine the other day.

  Brinus dropped his TriQuarter as he nodded off. . He rolled his eyes and stripped down into his boxers. The bright golden light shone through the door cracks as he fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.

  Simmie checked on Brinus and found him unconscious on the bed, with the lights on. He grabbed a blanket and snuggled him up into it. Brinus stirred but was still out cold. Simmie also got Brinus’s favorite stuffed animal and put it by him. Brinus snuggled it closely to him and smiled in his sleep as the soft fur felt good against his skin. Simmie kissed his head and then went to make himself a sandwich after turning off the lights.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  ***

  After finishing his third break over the last four hours, Akmal walked back into the connection closet and sat in the chair. A tech connected his wifi chip at the base of his skull to the chip. He felt more natural and it was like the drug bliss to be one with the ship. Being in his body was cool, but it was sometimes overwhelming with the sensations and constant need to smoke. Being in the digital world to Akmal was like to Brinus coming him stripping down to his gym shorts and getting on his console with the bros. As he flowed through the conduits, he couldn’t help but think how relaxing the sensation was just to flow effortlessly through the ship.

  Akmal, lost in thought, noticed a proximity alarm. He focused on the subspace sensors and saw battle cruisers and a destroyer with an old Federation transponder military signal. To make sure it was legitimate, he checked it with the database and found the ships were over 100 years old.

  A dispatch was in his inbox.

  Akmal sent a warning to the bridge officer that a raiding party was on its way.

  The bridge officer received Akmal’s notice on his TriQuarter, he shouted across the bridge. “Sensor officer, we just received a warning from Akmal that a raiding party. Scan for any warp trails.”

  “Yes, sir, Commander Sanders, sir.” He pressed a green button and typed a few codes. “Sir, four ships are incoming on the Z axis mark 455.2, 22.9, 6.39. The computer can’t make out what they are.”

  Commander Sanders laughed and then pulled out his vape pen. He twirled it between his fingers really fast and crossed his legs in a sitting position. “Don’t be ridiculous. The only way that would happen is if the federation is using 100-year-old ships or older. They can’t be desperate.”

  “I’m searching the database, sir. It looks like the ships use an old form of particle beam weaponry that hasn’t been used by the Feds for 150 years.”

  “We can hail them when they arrive. I think we can offer them a warm meal, fresh rations, and medical care. Likely, they aren’t even real soldiers, so we can treat them as civilians.”

  The ships exited warp a few moments later. The captain hailed the ship. He was a 90-year-old man. On the bridge, the helmsman looked like she was 12, and the comms officer looked like he was 11. The weapons officer looked like an 84-year-old woman, and the first officer looked like a 16-year-old kid. They were in ragged uniforms covered in patches.

  Commander Sanders saluted and then cleared his throat after an awkward moment of silence. He did not expect young children and old men to be commanding a battlecruiser of a major superpower. “Greetings, we wish to extend an offer of hospitality. We will offer you fresh food, medical care, and room and board; your minors will be placed with military families, your elderly will be put in our care homes, and you will be treated as guests rather than prisoners of war.”

  “Prepare to die, Dog!” shouted the captain after cutting off the screen.

  Commander Sanders summoned Akmal, whose avatar materialized. “I want you to load ion charges in the Sigma Bombers and prepare the Navy Troopers for boarding. Order them to use stun blasters. Remember, these people are civilians in a combat zone and will be offered the same protection. That’s an order.”

  Two squadrons of Y-shaped bombers came flying out, along with five boarding craft of 200 navy troopers each.

  The eleven-year-old girl began to tear up and cry. “I want my mommy! I miss my mommy! I want my Mommie!”

  The captain screamed in her face. “Shut up, little girl, and take evasive action! Now!”

  The helmswoman began ugly crying.

  “Comms officer! Send an emergency signal to the nearby fleet for reinforcements! Now!”

  The boy’s hand froze, and he shook with fear. His eyes were wide, his pupils fully dilated, and tears streamed down his face.

  “Weapons officer! Fire a full volley!”

  “What?!” she screamed over the sound of the ion charges dropping on the ship. “I can’t hear you!”

  The first officer looked at his captain. “Fuck it! I am outta here.”

  The kid ran to the back, but the pod failed just as the ship went dark. The sound of a boarding party entered into the ship. The captain drew his pistol and fired at a Navy Trooper entering the bridge, killing him. He received two ion blasts to the chest, which stopped his weakened heart. The elderly woman looked at the troopers on the bridge in shining armor as the helmswoman was screaming and crying, and the weapons officer was frozen in fear.

  One of them took off their helmet and approached the girl. “It’s okay.” He said softly. “We’re here to help you.” He made shushing sounds and rocked her arms as she cried hysterically.

  “What’s your name?”

  “T-t-tonya! I w-w-want my m-m-mommie!”

  The other boy ran up to the other Navy Trooper and hugged his waist. He, too, took off his helmet and grabbed his hand. “What's you’re name?”

  “J-j-jhon. W-w-will you k-kill us? T-t-they said the confeddfeddes eat children for s-supper.”

  The Navy Trooper hugged him close to his chest. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now. We will do our best to find your family.”

  The Navy Troopers escorted the kids off of the ship first and then came back for the elderly. Only two actual Federation soldiers were in the entire raiding party. They were taken and processed as prisoners of war.

  Captain Plato and Commander Norrington stood on the flight pad as the guests arrived. The two prisoners were taken to a different flight pad to be processed by the police and sent to the brig.

  Once the five boarding pods arrived, Captain Plato and Commander Norrington greeted each guest individually. The screaming kids, the crying, and the yelling from scared people were chaotic. Social workers separated the elderly, the children, and the disabled. Tailors measured the people for new clothes and used the industrial replicator to make clothes. Captain Plato kept squinting and flicking his ears as the kids wailed for their parents and the elderly screamed for food, their families, and their grandkids.

  Finally, Captain Plato left the flight deck as the noise overwhelmed him.

  ***

  A week later, Admiral Nelson was in his office, signing orders that Akmal had sent with his thumbprint. Admiral Nelson’s private office was small with a full view of the planet, Tin-Tin Prime. His office had a solid oak desk with ornamental carving on it. The floors were stained walnut with walnut-paneled walls in an ornamental style. His office chair was older and made of black leather. There was a no-smoking sign over his desk, and he was currently on his TriQuarter-Pad

  Captain Plato knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” barked Admiral Nelson.

  Nelson sat at his desk, his datapad balanced on his knee, his tail flicking like a clock’s pendulum. He didn’t look up as Plato entered.

  Plato stopped near the desk and cleared his throat. “I take it we’ll never run ‘Operation Divide and Conquer’ again.”

  Nelson sighed and tossed the datapad onto the couch beside him. “We knew it’d cause fractures. We just didn’t realize how deep they’d run.”

  “I heard about the camps.”

  Nelson’s ears twitched, but he didn’t respond. He rose, crossed the room to the replicator, and ordered a brandy. When it materialized, he stared at the glass for a moment before taking a long sip.

  “They’re saying whole populations are gone,” Plato continued, his voice tight and posture stiff.

  “Entire planets. Was it worth it?”

  Nelson set the glass down on his desk with a dull thud. His tail swished side-to-side rapidly. “We didn’t pull the trigger. They did it to themselves.”

  Plato let out a low, cold laugh and shook his head. “No. We just handed them the gun and loaded it for them. We knew what we were doing when we pushed that ideology.”

  Nelson’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn. He stared out the window at Tin-Tin Prime, its oceans catching the light like a solar panel and reflecting it back to space. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this, all we wanted to do was to end he embargos.”

  Plato took a step forward, his voice more icy now, more distant and firm. “But it did.”

  Nelson gripped the edge of the desk, his paw pale. He said nothing.

  "What will happen to Brinus?”

  Nelson disposed of his Brandy glass in the replicator and snapped, “We still need him despite his many infuriating quirks. He can be used on frontier worlds where his independence and rebelliousness won’t be a problem but an asset.”

  Plato sat back down on the couch and crossed his legs. “It’ll take a long time to rebuild, and with smoking as big as it is in the Confederacy, repopulating the planets will take centuries.”

  Nelson turned and faced him, sitting back at his desk and sighing. “I think I’ll retire. Buy a nice big fat marquis ship in one of the new subdistricts. We’ll need to reorganize the confederacy into an empire if we are to survive.”

  “You never told me what happened to your son.”

  "He graduates from the academy tomorrow. He’ll be a commissioned lieutenant and just signed a 6-year contract with the Navy because he didn’t want to go to graduate school. I will attend his ceremony virtually since he’s coming next week for a graduation party. I’m disappointed that he didn’t want to pursue a career, but the military isn’t for everyone, and he will have good opportunities in the private sector once he is cashiered out.”

  Plato looked at Nelson; Nelson looked at Plato. They locked eyes for a moment, exchanging looks of exhaustion. The end of the war had come. The beginning of the peace was here at last. What would the rebuilding efforts bring?