The smoking lounge had a bar with over 1000 brands of flavored and unflavored Tarken Tea and Tarken Coffee cigarettes and an alcohol bar with 40 beer taps in front of the cigarette bar. Two human and two droid bartenders manned their post. The droids looked like humans except they spoke in a robotic voice and came with programmed responses.
Brinus played solitaire with unique cards for over an hour before an eighteen-year-old midshipman sat across from him. He was in pajamas, house shoes, and a navy shirt. He had brown skin, brown eyes, and thick, curly, black hair. A Tarken Tea cigarette hung behind his ear. He was almost as tall as Brinus but not quite. As a human with a build similar to Brinus, it came from joining the military a year ago at seventeen.
The midshipman gave a sly smile and giggled, “Know any games?”
Brinus smirked mischievously and tilted his head to the right. “How ’bout three card monte? I deal, you play.” He laughed.
The kid scoffed, throwing his hands in front of him. “How ’bout not? Do you play Firing Squad?”
Brinus laughed again and leaned back into his chair. “Did ya’ grow up on the streets?”
“My name is Simmie, by the way,” stated the 18-year-old in pajamas.
Brinus began dealing a hand to the young man. “I don’t think we agreed on a game?” Brinus asked as he leaned over the table to shake his hand once he finished dealing out the cards.
Simmie smiled and gave a judgmental laugh. “Did we? What’s the bet?”
Brinus smiled and let out a large sigh as his shoulders and chest visibly relaxed. “The name’s Brinus.”
They both began playing cards. Brinus put down a commerce raider, and Simmie put down a missile corvette.
Simmie asked after putting down a missile corvette, “What’s your family name?”
Brinus shifted in his seat and sighed, his heart fluttered as he stared Simmie in the eyes. “I don’t belong to no family.”
Simmie looked at the two cards and then stated with a broad voice, “A missile corvette has more firepower than a commerce raider, but the commerce raider has more maneuverability.” He pulled out a pair of dice from his pocket and rolled.
“Snake eyes,” Brinus smirked at his win and pumped his fist victoriously. “Snake eyes always win.” He took the two cards and put them off to the side. He smiled again and looked at Simmie with a teasing look.
Simmie cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Let’s make things interesting; whoever wins, the loser has to do their laundry.” They both laughed.
Brinus laughed a few seconds longer then asked, “You’re willin’ to do the laundry of a peasant even though you’re a billionaire’s kid? Ain’t ya a bold one.” Brinus crossed his arms and giggled. He opened his legs and leaned back into the armchair.
Simmie cocked his head to the side and frowned. “How did you know who I was?”
He chuckled again after slapping down a Battlecruiser. “Everyone knows who ya’ are! Your family owns all the Tarken Tea plantations this here side of the Otis River Delta and eight cig factories outta sector 10 and a great house in Summerford!”
Looking Simmie in the eyes, Brinus realized they both had dilated pupils.
Simmie put down a destroyer and made an evil smile, “I did say let’s make it interesting.” They both laughed again for a few moments. The conversation turned serious. “I approached you because I discussed the ethics of using AI to profile criminals with a friend. What is your opinion on using AI to prevent crimes and catch criminals?”
Brinus was stunned into a moment of silence. He crossed his legs and tensed up his shoulders. He figured a starship must be like jail – everyone is a chronic gossip and into everyone’s business. He decided to roll with it and see where this conversation went. “I’ll say this: at what point do ya prevent the crime? Or should the peacekeepers allow the crime to happen and give ’em a chance in court? Do they then charge ’em fer the intention of committing a criminal act? Is there a solid answer?”
After putting down a light cruiser, Simmie looked at Brinus quizzically. “What are they?”
Brinus coughed as he lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. He stared at Simmie with the cigarette dangling from his lips and then snapped. “Get to the point. Do you wonna see my paperwork or not? I brought it with me.”
“I already looked at your public records before I spoke to you. I just wanted to know why you shot at two police officers and tried to take a Navi chip worth four hundred fifty thousand credits from a viscount’s residence. Do you feel guilty?” Truthfully, Simmie was scoping. There was tension in the air as Brinus smoked to relax. However, despite this fact, Simmie noticed his heart rate was a lot slower than when he first approached Brinus. It was like he enjoyed being around Brinus and felt at ease with him.
Brinus shook some ash into the ashtray, looked outside, sighed, and looked back at Simmie. He put down a carrier escort and realized his mistake after Simmie won the draw.
Brinus snapped after becoming more guarded and put his cards down, “The real question is, what if someone was inside that there house? What if the peacekeeper died?” He looked at Simmie, with a cocked eyebrow and a curled left lip.
Simmie put down a frigate, Brinus put down a destroyer, and then he took the cards off to the side. Simmie then asked again, “Do you feel guilty about it?”
Brinus relaxed in his seat after resuming the game and shrugged his shoulders, He even crushed this three-quarters-smoked cigarette in the ashtray. “I have been sentenced to 50 years in the Navy or be sent to a labor camp if I commit a felony. What I feel is irrelevant. The consequences’r real. The property damage I did to people is real. You’re prolly lookin’ at the only criminal who knows what he did was wrong,” Brinus crossed his legs and relaxed his guarded posture. Truthfully, he knew what he did was wrong, he just didn’t care because he got what he wanted. So what if a couple of footmen needed to be beaten up to earn his freedom? He was free from the syndicate.”
Simmie put his last card down, a starfighter carrier, and Brinus put down a class one command ship.
As he rose from his seat, Simmie stated in a bewildered tone. “You win. You’re a card shark, you know that? You can give me your laundry tomorrow. I enjoyed talking with you.” he thought.
Brinus smiled and shook Simmie’s hand. “Me too.”
“Oh, one more thing, your police file said you were stealing classified tech for the syndicate. What was it?”
He shrugged and then said, “It was a Navi chip fer a new type of torpedo. I was stealin’ it fer a defense contractor so they could reverse engineer it.”
Simmie rose from his seat and left after Brinus returned his cards.
Just as Brinus resumed solitaire, a news report came onto the holonet:
A reporter stood in a square with people screaming, throwing rocks, Molotov cocktails, and destroying vehicles. There were burning buildings and people chanting “Shame on you!” at the police as they tried to push the crowd back. The federation police were engaged in a battle with the crowd which they were losing.
The reporter spoke into the camera. “We are here, live from the Federation Capital, with the latest. For the past two days, mass protests and riots have broken out all over the Federation. They are protesting the budget passed by Congress that requires people to pay more in taxes for the military and police despite increasing police brutality and targeted harassment.”
The reporter dodged a Molotov cocktail. She gasped and fled. After running for a second or two, she continued talking as the crowd burned down a post office behind her. “It looks like we’re safe for now. Benefits are cut for veterans, the disabled, and the elderly under the Maschiv Act. These sweeping cuts will shut down two Veterans Affairs hospitals on every member planet while expanding Federation-wide shipyards and ground forces bases. They will be manned with droids and AI. After the elections last year, more and more cuts to civil liberties such as the Data Privacy and AI Surveillance Protection Act. It was criticized as highly invasive and restrictive of freedoms. It was done under the guise of national security and hate speech.”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The reporter on the TV dodged a flash-bang grenade thrown by a rebel. A cop came up to her and ordered her to move or face arrest. She became scared and ran to a safer distance and resumed. She had an edge in her voice and was covered in nervous sweat. “The situation has been spiraling out of control for over a decade with debt and money printing fueling the government spending. Today, the president announced that he planned to purge the education and military sectors of, what he called, Divide and Conquer Politics. Furthermore, he plans to break up the monopolies, causing problems within the federation. He failed to give a clear plan and a timetable of when it will be done. Many people are taking to the streets today as they call the president’s words empty and hollow. Hold, we just received breaking news. GET OUT OF THE WAY! Now!” Screamed the reporter.
The reporter and her cameraman ran into an abandoned building as a line of Federation walkers came through the crowd as they separated and began firing on the cops. About two dozen squads of army troopers broke through and began charging the police as they ran off. The army troopers executed the injured cops as the police dispersed and the crowd cheered “No Quarter! No Quarter! No Quarter!”
Brinus turned the holoprojector off, this was upsetting news that had nothing to do with him. He realized he should try to get a few hours of sleep before basic training. Therefore, he went back to his quarters.
Brinus lay down in his bed as he thought about the news reporter. Everyone was indifferent. However, he knew a war was coming. The Federation had unpayable debt, most of its population was mentally or physically ill, and decades of political radicalism had left the feds terminally weakened.
He turned over in his bed, “Computer, cut lights.”
The room went pitch black.
The next day Brinus reported to his post at 0800 hours sharp to the academy basic training area. He was directed to the intake section of the naval academy; he was lined up with the other recruits in uniform in the cadet mustering hall. The previous day, was shark attack which is a hazing ritual where people were herded from station to station. The weaker cadets were swarmed by training officers like hungry sharks swarming fish.
A lieutenant commander and three petty officers first class came into the basic training area. “My name is Lieutenant Commander Vog! I am your head drill instructor! You will address me as Commander Vog, Commander sir, or Commander Vog, Sir! Understand cadets!”
All five cadets including Brinus yelled in unison, “Sir, yes. Sir!”
“Today you will undergo aptitude tests on the holodeck to see if you go into the enlisted ranks or the commissioned officer ranks!” yelled one of the petty officers.
Commander Vog and two petty officers’ first-class, spotted Brinus. He looked disheveled and had a mild body odor. All three of them went into his face and screamed in his ears one after the other. “You must be the criminal! Only a goddamn convict would show up looking homeless! Did you brush your goddamn teeth, cadet?!”
The instructors now had their favorite recruit after didn't respond with a dead look on his face. It was game on, and they swarmed Brinus.
“Who the fuck do you think you are to show up looking like a hobo!”
“God damnit, I met homeless people who are better groomed than you!”
“The difference between you and a homeless man is that the homeless have reason to be a ragamuffin! YOU FUCKING DON’T.”
His anger grew as the insults came, and he shut down with the thousand-yard stare.
“What is your malfunction cadet?! Do we look like we are at a fucking comedy show?!” Yelled Commander Vog.
Brinus was still unresponsive.
The commander jammed his face to Brinus’s right ear. He screamed as loud as he could, causing him to jump, “Did. You. Brush. Your. Goddamn Teeth?! Why does your breath smell like a mouth full of assholes!! You need to cut your hair to fucking regulation!! You look like a fucking mad scientist stuck his finger in a goddamn electrical socket! How the fuck did you get past shark attack with hair like that!! Why is your uniform not fresh and pressed, god dammit?! Get the fuck out, and never report to my post again in a state of such undress like a two-credit man hoe at a Stanoli Brothel on Tolizia!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
The petty officer yelled at Brinus in a drill sergeant’s voice, “You need to salute your goddamn superior officers with your fucking wanking hand! It is done like this when you are dismissed or enter the room of a superior officer!” The commander showed Brinus how to salute. “I want teeth brushed, hair cut, and uniform pressed now
The third petty officer put his hand on Commander Vog’s shoulder once Brinus was out of earshot. “Sir, I thought you lost your sense of smell after the gas attack at the Battle of Klondo.”
The commander smiled. “He’s a pirate.”
The other cadets smirked and laughed.
The Battle of Klondo was an infantry assault on a pirate port during the Third Pirate War. When it became unwinnable for the pirates in the third week, they released chlorine gas into the air from the sewers and blew up the starport.
The Pirate Wars were a series of border conflicts in the outer rim of the Confederacy fought by the Navy to secure trade routes. Five Syndicates were formed as a result of the defection of these guilds.
Brinus returned to his quarters to tackle the task of steam-pressing his uniform. He had no idea how to iron and his shirt bore numerous wrinkles. He sought help from a fellow crewman at the laundromat, and after four tries, he mastered the iron. Next, Brinus searched on his computer terminal for dental hygiene with severe dental injuries. Enduring painful tooth brushing, mouthwash use, and flossing, he eventually turned to a pain pill from the medical bay for relief. His mouth felt cleaner, to his surprise, providing an oddly gratifying sensation. Finally, he applied deodorant for the first time in a month and a half. He returned approximately two hours later to resume his duties.
The training officers circled Brinus and smelled him. They got into his face each one taking turns smelling his breath, hair, and armpits. Brinus remained stone-faced and just stared straight ahead with his hands by his side. However, his palms were sweaty and his pupils were fully dilated. He felt threatened by how close they were and how much they probed him.
The commander then sniffed Brinus’s breath. “I think an extra round of Tarken Tea rations are in order. From this day forward, I am going to call you Stinkball! Do you like the name Cadet Stinkball?!”
“No, sir, I do not.” Brinus’s jaw clenched and his fists balled up.
“Good! ’Cuz I don’t give a shit! Go to the simulation room and await further instructions, Stinkball!!”
. He took a deep breath and began running for the holodeck.
After four hours of taking multiple-choice tests on math, physics, grammar, writing, engineering, science, biology, and medicine, a training lieutenant walked him through how to do the practical part of the assessment. The lieutenant asked him questions to probe his general knowledge to see what the assessment missed. After six hours, the two officers finished. Brinus was now an engineer.
Brinus saw Commander Vog enter the room with a lieutenant.
Both officers stood in his face and screamed at the same time, “Stinkball! Stand at fucking attention when addressing a superior officer.”
A third training officer went into Brinus’s face and started screaming. “It is time for your presentation, Stinkball. ”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Good, you have five minutes to get your ass to the other meeting room!” Commander Vog jammed his nose into Brinus’s face and screamed into his right ear. “What is the use of a 1-eighth-inch titanium brush drill bit when removing carbon scoring on a servo motor?!”
Brinus was breathless so he had to control his breathing because of heavy smoking. “Sir! Y-y-you run it at...800 rpm for 30-s–s-second intervals over 5 minutes and then wash it off with mineral oil…s-s-sir!”
Commander Vog sensed Brinus’s anger as his pupils dilated, his fists balled up, and his posture tensed. He ran up to his left ear and screamed, “Do you hate me, Cadet Stinkball?”
Brinus was running as he said, “Sir, yes, sir!”
Commander Vog laughed as he ran beside Brinus. “Good! I like your honesty because you will make a fine officer someday!”
The presentation was long and boring. Brinus fell asleep twice, and the lieutenant forced him to do push-ups and jumping jacks. After the presentation, Brinus was done with his shift and was given reading homework. At the end of the day, once the test scores were added up, he was the only cadet admitted to the officer academy. One cadet would be sent home because his test scores were too low, and the other three were put into basic training for enlisted personnel.
Brinus was too tired to eat. After checking out the datapads from the ship’s library, he returned to his empty room. He first wanted to buy some nick-nacks and artwork. He would likely be in this room for several years. He fell asleep when he hit the pillow.
He tossed and turned in bed until he finally felt like he couldn’t sleep any more than he had already. He grabbed his datapad and went into the smoking lounge.
Five hours later Brinus was in the smoking lounge drinking coffee. He had nine Tarken Tea cigarette butts in an ashtray next to him and read a pad titled:
Some cadets stared at him. They talked amongst themselves and acted like Brinus didn’t see them. He knew they had planned something.
A group of cadets came up to Brinus. One of them knocked the pad out of his hands. Brinus looked at the kid with furrowed eyebrows and a curled left lip. These idiots surely saw the syndicate tattoos on his forearms.
The lead cadet spoke to Brinus in a loud voice. “You’re the new guy? I want one hundred credits and your cigarette rations for the week.” All four young men laughed.
Brinus calmly stood, dusted off his stomach, cracked his knuckles, and cracked his neck. He just stared at the kid who knocked the pad out of his hands in the eyes. Nobody got between Brinus and his smokes – no one – ever. The longer Brinus was on , the more he felt this ship was like a pirate ship except with a more rigid hierarchy and an unambiguous code of conduct. He saw an opportunity to assert dominance.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Brinus asked with a stern voice. He stood, jamming his finger into the bully’s chest with every word. “I suggest you fuck off before I kick your ass,” Brinus said as if he ordered street food at the spaceport.
The room went dead silent.
One of the young men tried to push Brinus against the wall. As soon as he laid hands on Brinus, he twisted the kid’s arm, bent their wrist back, and threw them to the ground over his knee. Two Bullies came up behind Brinus, and he turned around and punched one guy in the neck and the other in the jugular vein, knocking them out simultaneously and causing them to pass out. He then picked up his pad and sat back on his chair, resuming his reading as if nothing happened.
Brinus knew he would have to answer for his fight, but he just wanted to read the book as he had a reading quiz on Friday. At this moment, he gave zero fucks.