Brinus was in the midshipman’s smoking lounge after trying to sleep for a couple of hours. He was used to sleeping in prison beds, so it was jarring to go to a standard mattress suddenly.
The smoking lounge had a bar with over 1000 brands of flavored and unflavored tarken tea and coffee cigarettes in cartons and packs. An alcohol bar with 40 beer taps in front of the cigarette bar was manned by two human and two droid bartenders. Coffee tables with wooden ashtrays and brass gilded winged arm chairs around each coffee table were scattered throughout the 1600 x 1600 square foot room. The coffee tables were engraved with patterns of starships and had glass tops. The floor was green and red carpet with a rose pattern.
He played a card game similar to solitaire, but the cards had starships hand painted on them and symbols rather than numbers, hearts, spades, clubs, and diamonds. The characters were in alien writing. An eighteen-year-old midshipman sat across from him.
The midshipman looked at Brinus with a sly smile. “Know any games?”
Brinus smiled and tilted his head. “How ’bout three card monte? I deal, you play.” He laughed.
The midshipman scoffed, throwing his hands in front of him. “How ’bout not? Do you play Firing Squad?”
Brinus laughed again. “Did You used to be on the streets?”
“My name is Simmie, by the way.”
Brinus began dealing a hand to the young man. “I don’t think we agreed on a game?” He leaned over the table to shake his hand.
Simmie smiled and made a judgmental laugh. “Did we? What’s the bet?”
He looked off to the side. “I ain’t got no cash, and I don’t wonna gamble.” He smiled and let out a large sigh as his muscles relaxed. “My name’s Brinus.” crossing his legs, he opened his body posture and relaxed.
Simmie was in Pajamas, house shoes, and a navy shirt. He had brown skin, brown eyes, and thick, curly, black hair. There was a tarken tea cigarette behind his ear, and he was tall, almost as tall as Brinus but not quite. He was also human with a build similar to Brinus from being in the military for about a year. He joined at seventeen but was now eighteen.
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 is your family name?”
Brinus shifted in his seat. “I don’t belong to no family.”
Simmie looked at the two cards and then said in a matter-of-fact tone. “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 fist-pumped. “Snake eyes always win.” He took the two cards and put them off to the side. Winning always brought him pleasure.
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 couple of seconds longer as though he was releasing tension. He crossed his legs and grinned mischievously. “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 leaned back into the booth.
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 you are! Your family owns all the tarken tea leaf plantations this side of the Otis River Delta and eight cigarette factories throughout sector 10 and a great house in summerford!”
Looking Simmie in the eyes, they both had dilated pupils.
Simmie put down a star destroyer and made an evil smile, “I did say let’s make it interesting.” They both laughed again for twenty seconds. 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 a little taken aback. He figured a starship must be like jail and that this must be his paperwork check. Truthfully, if it was a paperwork check, it wasn’t like any check he’d been subjected to. He decided to roll with it and see where this conversation went. “I will 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 sat in his chair for a second, as stiff as a board, staring at Simmie with his arms crossed over his chest. He then snapped. “Get to the point. Do you wonna see my paperwork or not? I brought it with me.”
“I already looked at your paperwork before I spoke to you. I just wanted to know why you shot at two peacekeepers 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 Brinus to see if he was a threat. They had to admit he didn’t send off any alarm bells in his brain.
Brinus looked at the pack of cigarettes and lighter by his side and then looked back at Simmie. He looked pissed and put down a Corvette. He realized his mistake after Simmie won the draw.
Brinus snapped after tensing his body posture, “The real question is, what if someone was inside that there house? What if the peacekeeper died?” He looked at Simmie, wondering what this conversation was about.
Simmie put down a frigate, Brinus put down a star 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 a couple of more hands with talking and said calmly, “I’m gonna serve 50 years in the Navy er be sent to a labor camp if I commit a felony. What I feel is irrelevant. the consequences ’er real. The property dama I did to people is real. Your prolly lookin’ at the only criminal who knows what I did was wrong,” Brinus shrugged his shoulders. Truthfully, he knew what he did was wrong, he just didn’t care because he got what he wanted.
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 spoke in a bewildered tone. “You win. You’re a card sharp, you know that? You can give me your laundry tomorrow. I enjoyed talking with you.” Secretly, Simmie was glad Brinus wasn’t a psycho.
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Brinus smiled. “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 o’ 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 his solitaire-like game, a news report came onto the holonet:
A reporter stood in a square with people screaming, throwing rocks, Molotov cocktails, and destroying vehicles. The federation police were engaged in a battle with the crowd.
The reporter began speaking into the camera. “We are here, live from the Fed Capital, with the latest. For the past two days, mass protests and riots have broken out all over the Federation. They are protesting a new policy passed by Congress that requires people to pay more taxes for the military and police.”
The reporter dodged a Molotov cocktail. She screamed and ran. After running for a couple of seconds, she continued talking as the crowd burned down a post office behind her. “It looks like we’re safe for now. The benefits cut are for veterans, the disabled, and the elderly while simultaneously removing the social safety net for those same vulnerable groups and the unemployed. These sweeping reforms will shut down two Veterans Affairs hospitals on every member planet while expanding Federation-wide shipyards and ground forces bases. There has been much speculation for months. After the elections last year, a mass protest was planned over these cuts.”
The reporter on the TV dodged a flash bang grenade. She panicked and ran again. They moved to a safer location and resumed. She had an edge in her voice. “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 ‘wrong think’ while not defining what ‘wrong think’ is or how it impacted anyone. Furthermore, he plans to break up the monopolies, causing the 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 new regime’s words empty and hollow.”
The reporter paused briefly, touching her ear and listening briefly before continuing. “Breaking news, we just received word that a military coup has taken place. I repeat, a coup HAS taken place, ladies and gentlemen. The Federation military has taken control of key buildings in the Capitol, and fighting has broken out all over.”
Brinus turned the holoprojector off, and everyone went back to their business. As far as everyone else was concerned, this coup was a Federation matter. He realized he should try to get a few hours of sleep before basic training. Therefore, he went back to his quarters.
The next day…
Brinus reported to his post at 0800 hours sharp the following day. He was directed to the intake section of the naval officer's academy; he lined up with fifteen other recruits in uniform in the cadet mustering hall. The previous day, he had shark-attack in the mustering hall. They also went to the library, commissary, and medical intake.
The Lieutenant and two petty officers first class went in Brinus's face and screamed in his ears all at the same time, “You must be the criminal! Only a goddamn convict would show up looking homeless! Did you brush your goddamn teeth, cadet?!”
Brinus scrunched up his face in confusion. “Sir?”
The Lieutenant went next to Brinus’s right and screamed as loud as he could, “Did. You. Brush. Your. Goddamn Teeth? Why does your breath smell like a mouth full of assholes! You need to cut your fucking hair to fucking regulation! You look like the fucking mad scientist stuck his finger in a godman 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 fucking report to my fucking post again in a state of such undress like a two-credit whore 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 Lieutenant showed Brinus how to salute. “I fucking want Teeth Brushed, Hair Cut, and Uniform Pressed Now!”
The third petty officer put his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder once Brinus was out of earshot. "I thought you lost your sense of smell after the gas attack at the Battle of Klondo."
The lieutenant smiled. "He's a pirate."
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.
Brinus returned to his quarters to tackle the unfamiliar task of steam-pressing his uniform, a challenge exacerbated by his prior role as an engineer and lead burglar on a pirate ship, which had left him clueless about ironing.
His shirt bore numerous wrinkles. Seeking assistance from a fellow crewman at the laundromat, he finally mastered the iron. Next, he delved into his computer terminal to research dental hygiene when having 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 before reemerging approximately two hours later, preparing to resume his duties.
The lieutenant circled Brinus and smelled him. Brinus looked uncomfortable but just stared straight ahead with his hands by his side.
The Lieutenant then sniffed Brinus’s breath. “I think an extra round of rum rations at lunch is in order for today. From this day forward, I am going to call you cadet Stinkball. Do you like the name Cadet Stinkball?
“No, sir, I do not.” Truthfully, Brinus was annoyed at being called Cadet Stinkball.
“Good! ’Cuz I don’t give a shit! Go to the holodeck and wait for instructions, Cadet Stinkball!!!”
Brinus wanted to slap this officer. However, he knew life in prison would result. Therefore, he kept his hands in his pockets as he walked to the holodeck.
After four hours of taking multiple-choice tests on math, physics, grammar, writing, engineering, science, 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 were done. Brinus would be transferred to engineering at the end of the day. He was unsuitable as a stellar cartographer and would need three weeks of basic training.
Brinus had never seen this particular catperson before. They were a new catperson that just walked into the assessment room. He tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. “Who are you?”
Both officers stood in his face and screamed at the same time, “Cadet! 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 Cadet Stinkball. ”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Good, you have five fucking minutes to get your fucking ass to the other fucking holodeck for your fucking presentation!” The lieutenant went even closer to Brinus and began screaming even louder in his right ear. “What is the use of a 1/8th inch titanium brush drill bit when removing carbon scoring on a servo motor?!”
Brinus was breathless as he spoke, so he had to control his breathing. "Sir! You run it at 800 rpm for 30-second intervals over 5 minutes and then wash it off with mineral oil, sir!"
The training officer sensed Brinus’s anger as his pupils dialed and his fists balled up. They ran up to his left ear and screamed, “Do you hate me, Cadet Stinkball?”
Brinus was running as he said, “Sir, yes, sir!”
The training officer laughed. “Good! I like your honesty because you will make a fine officer someday, Cadet Stinkball!”
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.
Brinus was too tired to eat. After checking out the pads from the ship’s library, he returned to his room. His room was empty. 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 after showering and got into PJs.
Five hours later…
Brinus was in the smoking lounge drinking coffee after waking up from a nightmare relating to his prison time. He had nine tarken tea cigarette butts in an ashtray next to him and read a pad titled: Navy Grammar for the Uneducated.
A group of cadets came up to Brinus. One of them knocked the pad out of his hands. Brinus looked at the kid with an Are you crazy look. These idiots surely saw the syndicate tattoos on his forearms. Did they?
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. The longer Brinus was on The Victory, 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 and went nose to nose with the other cadet. “I suggest you fuck off before I kick your ass,” Brinus said this statement as if he was ordering 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, Brinus 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 both 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 and gave zero fucks.