Brinus and Simmie were in their bedroom, which was pitch black with a white nosie machine blasting static at full volume. Simmie had an ashtray with about a dozen cigarette butts b his side of the bed and Brinus had his vape charger by his side of the bed. The blue carpet had been removed and replaced with walnut wood floors and mahogany paneling on the walls and ceiling. The closet had all custom-tailored clothes and uniforms.

  For now, Brinus tossed and turned in the memory foam bed until Simmie turned and faced him. He turned on the bedside lamp and looked Brinus in the eyes. “Either tell me what’s wrong or leave the bed and sleep on the couch.”

  Brinus stroked Simmie’s face and kissed his forehead. “Babe, I don’t wonna talk about it.”

  “Computer, activate lights!” shouted Simmie, sitting up with a scowl and crossing his arms.

  Brinus laughed in surprise and sat up in the bed as well. “Wait, what? you're serious?

  “Get out of our bed or tell me what’s wrong,” said Simmie, firmly pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Good night, Simmie.” Brinus kissed Simmie on the forehead again and then left the bed, grabbing a blanket and pillow from the closet.

  “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s—” Simmie yelled as Brinus left the room.

  He slammed the door behind him. “I love you too, sweetheart,” said Brinus.

  The following morning, at 6 a.m., Brinus vaped Smoke rings as he sat on top of the counter in gym shorts. He had his morning coffee with his bare ankles crossed.

  Simmie entered the kitchen as well. “Hey, babe. I know you don’t want to talk about it with me, but maybe you can discuss it with Calnori?”

  Brinus blew a large cloud of white vapor into Simmie’s face, causing him to cough. “What’re you doing today?” asked Brinus, changing the subject.

  Simmie looked Brinus in the eyes and said firmly, “Talk about it to Dr. Calnori, or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

  “Whatever.” Brinus jumped down and kissed Simmie on the lips. “I have to get ready.”

  Simmie sighed as he started brewing his coffee. “Okay, love. Be safe.”

  Brinus was in line at the mess hall. Today, the other teams ran war games, so Red Team had the day off. The Mess Hall had a buffet in the center, with hundreds of dishes from the cities that survived the crisis on Earth. Mainly in the United States, Africa, and Southeast Asia.

  The war brought upgrades to the mess hall. Those same drab brown tiles were replaced with black-and-white marble. Ornate wood paneling graced the walls. It had glass mirrors inside the eight-block paneling. The lighting was hologram projections of natural light on a giant, gold-plated chandelier. The mess hall was loud with the clinking of forks; a chatter of hundreds of cadets, midshipmen, and acting lieutenants; a lingering smell of smoke and vapor. The smell of Earth food drifted from the buffet, with over forty dishes made with various Earth spices. It mixed with smoke and vapes from the other officers. Overall, despite the extravagant setting, the grungy habits of the officers created a lived-in atmosphere.

  His eyes were set on General Tso’s chicken, steamed rice, and pork egg rolls because Lunchtime began ten minutes ago. was above Earth, and the admiral met with the military governor to discuss the raid on their planet. Brinus put a bunch of chicken on his plate and mixed the steamed rice with the meal.

  He sat down and began watching the news. “Meanwhile, the Federation has begun raiding isolated worlds and space stations. The most recent raid was where the entire spaceport was destroyed. An estimated 10,000 Terrans lost their lives during the attack, and the garrison of 1,200 navy troopers and naval personnel sacrificed their lives for the cause. In other news, the recent invasion by The Federation also failed after the Battle of Casillor. Half of the 1st Task Force was lost, along with two Titan-Class Battleships and five Shannon Class IV Destroyers. The entire 23rd Squadron is MIA after a skirmish at Koloba 10. However, enemy losses are estimated to be at 32 cruisers and battle cruisers. The lost squadron had 2 missile corvettes, 5 Riker-class frigates, and one Kelvin-class cruiser; The losses are considered minimal.”

  Brinus wondered why they didn’t dock on the moon but orbited Earth instead. He began eating the chicken and rice. It was almost too sweet but so addictive. He began twirling his medical vape in between his fingers as he ate. He sat next to some friends and began talking about the war games. Two days off were scheduled from robotics before the next game so the other teams could play.

  Simmie came into the mess hall and hugged Brinus. “Hey, love.”

  “Are you on break?” Brinus slapped Simmie on the ass as he sat on Brinus’s right thigh.

  Simmie took a bite of Brinus’s dish and made a disgusted face. “I’m on lunch break. When you get home tonight, I made you a surprise. It was in a cookbook made by someone called Harper Magnus. It was a note that said it was your favorite dish.”

  Brinus coughed and choked on his food. “What?”

  Simmie leaned forward, “Did I do something wrong?”

  Brinus took a sip of his soda. “I haven’t had one of his recipes since he was murdered.”

  Simmie had a wide-eyed expression of surprise on his face. “He was murdered?”

  Brinus pushed the plate away. “I’m gonna hot-box in our bedroom. See ya later.”

  Brinus exited the mess hall while breathing heavily; he leaned against the wall, hyperventilating. His vision blurred, and he sat on the floor. The next thing he knew, he was on a hospital bed in the medical ward.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The ER ward was spotless; there was fresh paint on the baroque-style cabinets, and the door to the room was oak wood with four panels and a window for the staff to look in. The equipment looked new and clean. Everything smelled sterile, almost like alcohol but more like carbolic acid. Brinus came up from the bed and saw that the medicine cabinet was well stocked with gauze, honey bandages, disinfectants, and a fully charged dermal regenerator. There was a suture kit with various antibiotic creams. There was also a burn treatment kit with silver cream.

  He turned to the nurse. “What happened?”

  A nurse looked at him as she injected something into an I.V. bag. “You had a panic attack and passed out. I just put DMT in your I.V. It is a medication we introduced to Earth in the 1970s. It is a psychedelic we use for emergency assessments. You need to get back in bed because it will hit in a few minutes. That’s an order.”

  Brinus looked the nurse in the eyes and gave her an order. “Give me my vape. That’s an order.”

  The nurse smiled; she said in an overly sweet voice, like a mother denying a kid candy, “Technically, your medical vape is not for smoking cessation, and you just had a massive panic attack. As your nurse, I outrank even the Admiral in medical decisions. So I can’t let you use it in the emergency room, but I can give you some nicotine pouches.”

  Brinus yelled excitedly, “Sure! I need something!”

  The nurse rolled her eyes and began checking Brinus’s vitals and making notes of his EKG readings on her TriQuarter.

  As he smiled and relaxed on the bed, Brinus started floating on a cloud. His vision became blurry, and he started seeing colors contrasting. Bright colors were brighter, and dark colors were darker. Brinus felt freer and looser. As his hearing became more sensitive, he began hearing everything in the hospital.

  “The doctor will be with you shortly.”

  Calnori came into the medical ward and sat across from Brinus 30 minutes later after he received the medicine. “Mind telling me what happened?”

  Brinus explained how Harper was poisoned by Long Ho, how his relationship with Harper was his first real love, how Simmie made a dish he hadn’t had since he was 16, or how Simmie brought back all those feelings. He didn’t know if it was the drugs or if it was the public humiliation, or maybe it was both. He spent over an hour opening up to Calnori about his time in the syndicate. She listened and just let Brinus talk. This session was the first time Brinus had opened up about Harper or his time in the syndicate so she just let him ramble on without interruption.

  After over an hour and a half of talking, Calnori was shocked by everything the syndicate had put him through, yet she kept her composure. She put a hand on Brinus’s shoulder and said, “I don’t think you’re at risk of hurting yourself, but I will pull you out of the war games.”

  Brinus was four sheets to the wind, so he just nodded.

  “You have combat stress. The meal Simmie made merely triggered an old memory association, and you had a panic attack.”

  “It’s simulated combat; it ain’t the real thang.”

  Calnori sighed and then sat close to Brinus. “It doesn’t matter. I am going to prescribe an anti-anxiety medicine. I am also going to add nanites to your medical vape for health monitoring. About 100 nanites per 50 milligrams.”

  The nurse came in and injected something into his bag. “I am giving you a reversal agent for the DMT. You will need to avoid strenuous activity for about four days. So the doctor is going to put you on limited duty. You will be ready to discharge in an hour or two at most.”

  Brinus nodded as Calnori left the room.

  Captain Plato sat in a neo-imperial armchair across from Commander Tom. Commander Tom’s Office walls were paneled in baroque style with rose carvings on the paneling. He had an epoxy desk with silver poured in between the Earth walnut table pieces. Earth Walnut was a priceless wood as it was only found on Earth and could only grow in certain climates on Earth. He had an Earth Walnut ashtray with 5 cigarette butts on his desk next to his computer terminal, along with a lighter. There was a bronze mini black powder cannon.

  “Did you hear what happened in the mess hall today?” asked Captain Plato.

  Commander Tom was in his office as Captain Plato had come to visit him to discuss recalibrating the proton torpedoes. He shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms.

  Commander Tom shifted in his seat. “Apparently, Brinus had a panic attack.”

  Captain Plato rolled his eyes. “We knew bringing him into the navy would take longer than most recruits. Did you also hear what happened this morning?”

  Commander Tom leaned back in his chair. “I heard Aura attacked two cops when she was being bused off the ship. Now she’s in the brig awaiting charges for assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest, and battery on an officer of the peace.”

  Captain Plato made a cat howl, “Don’t mention that bitch Aura. She was more of a headache than Brinus ever was. At least Brinus contributes to the ship.” Plato’s fur became puffy, and his tail flicked rapidly from side to side.

  Commander Tom sat at attention, noticing the change in Mood. “Sir, Brinus has improved. We knew bringing a convict into the military would take more effort. That was why the Convict Integration Program failed. We just don’t have the experience or the knowledge to integrate criminals.”

  “It did not fail. 800 Criminals were successfully integrated. That is the official narrative.”

  Commander Tom“Right, sir. Is there anything else you wish to discuss? When do you want the torpedoes done?”

  “No, commander. I want the job done by 00:00 hours tomorrow. I need the proton torpedoes ready for combat. We head out for patrol in the morning. I also want Brinus on duty with Simmie after he rests. Clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Four days later, Brinus poured molten metal into a ceramic mold. Simmie spent a week 3D printing. It was held in place by Simmie as the hot metal sparked and flashed in all directions as it poured into the cast. Brinus took off his silver heat suit. He took the mold out of Simmie’s tongs with his bare hands and broke apart the cast after it cooled. It was an armor plate which was red hot; he grabbed it and lowered the plate into the oil. He then welded it onto an atsromech droid after quenching it. Welding with magic was too hard at this point in his magical education.

  The atsromech was cylindrical with a rounded head. It had legs like a walker and arms like a key meant to fit into a computer of a bomber craft or a shuttle. It was about three feet or one meter tall. Simmie and Brinus looked at their work and high-fived each other.

  Brinus smiled and rested his forearms on Simmie’s shoulders. “You wonna do lunch later?”

  Simmie kissed Brinus passionately for a moment and then began drawing up the report. “Love, it is the quarter morning bell. I am not thinking about lunch.”

  “Right.” Brinus sat next to Simmie and snuggled next to him.

  Brinus’s TriQuarter pinged. It was the pharmacy, and they had his new vape formula ready to pick up. The nicotine was at 45 mg, but the nanites would help heal his lung and heart damage.

  Brinus wanted to listen to music with Simmie as he began programming the new droid. Simmie wanted to listen to pre-invasion earth rock, and Brinus wanted to listen to Otis Datis Death Metal. They compromised and settled on a comedy podcast by a retired naval officer who served in the second and third pirate wars.

  As they laughed and joked, Brinus knocked out four different projects over the span of an hour. He didn’t notice Calnori at the door.

  Brinus looked up. “Hey, doc! What’s up?”

  Calnori smiled and crossed her arms. “The captain is going to make an offer to you in an hour based on your performance in the war games.”

  Brinus cocked an eyebrow. “And?”

  “He told me to tell you that he wants you to get your gym bag and report to his office. You’re heading to Earth for a green belt tournament.”

  “Tor Sor Norra said I was still compromised from years of heavy smoking?”

  “Well, me and your doctor, and I think you can handle a green belt tournament. So pack up, see the captain for your sponsors, and head out to landing pad four.” Brinus saluted