The Navy Proving Grounds at Caltor Prime 0630 Hours Intergalactic Time:
In the early morning sunrise, the hills of the rolling grasslands sprawled across the foggy low mountains. Beams of light poked through the fog as it swirled over the hills like smoke. Brinus and Simmie brewed morning coffee with their morning cigarettes, while around them, the sergeant major and his men did the same. The air was crisp with morning mist and had a particular bite in the frosty air. Everyone could see their breath as Brinus looked through his binoculars to gauge the situation.
He threw his cigarette butt into the campfire. “Hey, Simmie, are you ready for the attack?”
Simmie flicked some ash into the grass, tilting his head back and taking a draw, blowing smoke into the air. He then looked at Brinus with a Stern Look. “We’re in the field, and I am an acting lieutenant for this exercise. Technically, I am your commanding officer.”
Brinus jumped on top of Simmie and rolled in the tall grass with him until Simmie pushed him off. “Brinus! Behave! We can do whatever you want after the mission!” he growled, nipping at his ear.
Brinus smirked and leaned down to kiss him, “Sure love.”
They both laughed maniacally.
The Sergeant Major approached the two young men, one brow cocked. “Are you two done? We have to attack the enemy base at 0700 hours!”
“I’ll get ready.” Brinus giggled like a schoolgirl.
The troops retreated to their tents to don their armour: white dura-plastic breast, leg, arm, and joint plates, a matching helmet with built-in comms, black gloves, and pristine white boots. All carried standard-issue flash pistols at their sides.
The men set out, marching uphill, until Brinus could see two police droids protecting a Federation flag on a hill around 400 meters ahead. Nearby, two more police droids with dummy guns guarded a fortress nestled in a valley near the river. Security droids manned the perimeter guns placed on top of sandbags.
Stimmie came to stand shoulder to shoulder with Brinus. Reaching up, he took his binoculars and looked toward the fortress before giving them back and pointing toward a concrete bunker. “See that scope flash? There is a sniper in the hills.”
Brinus brought the binoculars back to his eyes and turned to where Simmie pointed. Sure enough, there he was. Dressed in a bad gilly suit with a spotter sitting nearby in fingerless gloves, and a camo shirt and pants. “Yeah, I see them. I don’t think they’re ours.” Brinus looked through his binoculars a second time and saw the sniper in infrared view.
“You want me to take them out?”
Brinus growled and grabbed Simmie’s leg. “Those snipers are not with us, nor are they part of this here exercise. Let the command deal with them.” He snarled.
Brinus knew he would have to call in the unauthorized snipers, and then a professional strike team would take them out. At this point, the exercise was over.
Simmie stood and said, “I will take them out now.” His priority was Brinus’s safety and not the mission. As soon as the snipers appeared, any desire to finish the exercise went out the window.
Brinus attempted to knock Simmie down. He yelled, “Simmie! No! Please! You’ll be killed if you go out there!” Brinus grabbed Simmie, but it was too late. He didn’t care about the mission; he only cared about Simmie.
Simmie ran forward with Brinus hot on his heels. At this moment, the months of military training, the months of discipline, and the months of basic training went out the window. He only cared about Brinus and not the mission.
The other men were shocked into silence as Brinus ran after Simmie, screaming at him to get down. Then, a sniper shot rang out. Despite the blaster bolt moving at the speed of light, Brinus could see the bolt approach Simmie. On pure adrenaline, he ran into the bolt and took a chest full of plasma, and it obliterated his armor. It incinerated his thermal underwear shirt and left a large cut on his chest from the breast plate, but no burns. His arm had a piece of armor sticking out of his left forearm.
He then jumped on Simmie and covered him from a second sniper shot. The sniper threw a grenade and ran, but it failed to explode. A blue plasma shield appeared around Brinus as he wrapped himself around Simmie to protect him. The other men watched the two boys in the field.
Brinus yelled, “I fucking told you not to run out into the field!” He smothered Simmie in kisses and hugs.
The sergeant major snorted and turned to the sergeant of the company. “This is why couples shouldn’t be in combat together, sir.”
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The company sergeant took off his helmet and sighed. “I agree. Do you wanna call this in, or should I?”
“I will, sir.”
One hour later, on Brinus stood at attention in the captain’s office. Captain Plato, the commandant of the naval academy, and Commander Theodore sat in a row. Brinus was in uniform with his chest wrapped in compression bandages and his right arm in a sling wrapped in gauze bandages. He had just gotten out of the emergency room at the VA hospital. After a couple of seconds of silence, the captain spoke. “And that is your full accounting of the event?”
“Yes, sir. I give my statement for the official record,” said Brinus, looking directly ahead.
After a moment of silence, Captain Plato spoke. “Were you aware you had magic before joining the Navy?”
“No, sir. The magi were interested in me, but nothin’ came of it. Although…”
“What, Stinkball?”
Brinus shifted his feet and then looked down and then up. “I remember about a month before I was incarcerated for arson, I woke up in the hospital with saffron gas burns, glass in my shoes, and bruises like I had been beaten with 24-hours of my memory erased. Harper said at the time some Magi came and kidnapped me under false pretenses.”
Commander Theodore asked, tilting his head and crossing his arms, “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Clearly, something had happened. You should have notified the ship’s librarian of this upon recruitment.”
“Obviously,” Brinus snapped as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Brinus is down to 68 cigarettes a day, last time I checked. Isn’t it possible that cutting back caused his abilities to surface?”
The commandant scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Heavy smoking of more than 70 Tarken Tea cigarettes a day does suppress magic, according to the magi agent I consulted before this hearing. After 75 cigs a day, magic becomes impossible to detect. It’s because of the AA nicotine in the cigarette. It’s why the Magi ban smoking in its members.” The Commandant rolled his eyes and snapped, “Were you aware of the risk of uncontrollable magic use during the live fire simulation?”
“No, sir. As I stated previously. I was aware the magi were interested in me, and I had that weird memory gap. But no. I was not aware I had magic, sir.”
Captain Plato looked over at Brinus’s medical file. “It says you’re down to 68 cigarettes a day because you get terrible withdrawals if you go any lower. I will ask again, is it possible that reducing your smoking is what made your magic surface? Yes or No?”
Brinus sighed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know much about magic, sir, but if it says so in my document, that it obviously is true.”
The Commandant leaned back into his chair and cussed, “I’m issuing standing orders that you and Simmie are not to go together on future battle or live fire sims. You two will only be allowed in psychiatric exams for the purpose of testing. I am also going to ask the magi’s permission for use of their fire temple; the sooner we can start training you in magic, the better. Furthermore, I am putting you and Simmie on academic probation for two years for insubordination. You both endangered your own lives as well as the lives of your men and women. And Brinus, if you mess up on this scale again, you will be given a bad conduct discharge from the Navy. This is you’re final warning.”
Commander Theodore spoke. “Is there anything you wish to add to the after-action report? You have permission to speak freely.”
“Simmie is my first serious relationship since Harper, sir. I want to marry him someday, and I love him. I think it would be best if we didn’t go into combat together in the future because he would be a distraction.”
The three officers looked at each other, nodded in agreement, and then Captain Plato spoke. “Agreed. You and Simmie will no longer be on battle simulations while you are at the academy. Dismissed Midshipman Helios.”
“Sirs.” Brinus saluted and left.
Thirty minutes after the meeting, Brinus was at his quarters in a pair of black boxers and shirtless.
After he had crawled into bed, Simmie stirred and took a sharp inhale through his nose and exclaimed, “Hey, love!”
“It looks like we’re being separated.”
Simmie handed Brinus a note and mumbled. “A courier came by thirty minutes ago and dropped this off.”
Brinus opened the envelope, which said,
Brinus took his cigarette lighter and burned the letter. No, the matter was not settled. They tried to kill him for leaving the syndicate and his second boyfriend, just like they killed Harper. One day, he would get even with the syndicate. He was now a duke and would be learning magic. He had power, both magical and political.
Simmie put an arm around Brinus’s chest, kissed his ear as he lay down, and snuggled next to him. “Can’t we worry about this tomorrow? Let’s just cuddle.”
Brinus wrapped his legs and arms around Simmie. “Good night, love.”
Simmie was back asleep as Brinus turned out the lights.
Three days later, Brinus walked into Plato’s office. He entered without knocking and saluted. The office smelled like cinnamon and cloves, burnt paper, and charcoal. There was no ashtray on his desk, which meant someone else was in his office before he arrived. The soft fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow across the room. Plato's tail flicked rapidly side-to-side with his fur poofy and his large, golden, yellow eyes fully dilated.
Brinus slaueted and yelled, “Brinus Helios reporting fer…”
Captain Plato howled a cat howl and then yelled, “Never enter my office without knocking! Ever! Now leave and do it properly.”
Brinus sighed and rolled his eyes as he left, closed the door, and banged on it three times as loudly as he could.
Captain Plato growled again, “Enter!”
Brinus came into the office, but this time wore his screw-you smile. “Brinus Helios reporting as ordered, sir!”
Captain Plato motioned for Brinus to sit in the chair. “The mage will join us shortly. He is going to mentor you.”
The mage entered the room, and Brinus stood and saluted him. “I remember you!” he said. “You destroyed the saffron magi's office and then tried to sue us! My name is Jorge, and I will be your instructor.”
Brinus crossed his arms and sighed. “What the fuck? I lost my lawsuit cuz of you! Who the fuck are you to take my case?” Jorge stummered until Brinus yelled, “Fuck you! I don’t want you teachin’ me magic!”
Captain Plato held up his hand and hissed. “Stinkball, let the man speak.”
Jorge sat on the desk and composed himself. “Your abilities are dangerous because you’re a dark fire mage. This means you draw energy from the environment around you and can’t be burned or radiation poisoning, no matter what temp or rad units you’re exposed to. That’s why you have pain and fatigue resistance, or can weld shirtless. Also, it seems like you deflected the blaster bolt rather than actually stopping it. You said in your written report that you ran at the speed of light. But honestly? That is just your fight-or-flight response kicking in and slowing down the perception of time.”
Brinus sat quietly for a moment, thinking to himself.
“I’m a mage?”
Jorge nodded. “The magi will teach you to control you’re magic.”
