Richard entered the security breakroom, wearing tank top and coveralls. The sleaves are tied around his waste. Workout towel draped around his neck. The warden drank his early morning coffee.  “So, how’s the training going Jack?” He stood to greet him before Richard dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“It’s going well, each department sent several people. Only one individual from medical had a problem, she just kept asking about you. I didn’t waste time on that and dismissed her. I have enough problems to deal with.”

“Gossip, it’s just gossip. I have no idea what is going through their heads.” He sat down across the warden. The cold station bit at his wet body.

“Most departments sent their lizardmen to us. I think we had every lizardman on station come through. They all had weapons training from their military service on their home planet. I didn’t even know that service was mandatory there. All I had to do was tell them about the proper methods to recharge the laser weaponry and they were off to the races.”

Richard sighed with relief, “Sounds like this will be a lot easier than we both thought. Code red and we have them all grab their gear and take out the bad guys.” He thought about the logistics with the reinforced numbers, they might be able to pull it off on their own.

“The lizardmen were a little skittish around the other officers. I think they thought they were singled out for their species. We tried our best to show them it wasn’t the case.”

Richard knew the reasons for this. He grunted, annoyed at the way they were treated, “It’s the other departments, I make sure to bash any xenophobia out of this department, but I can’t get all the morons on the station.”

He got up and headed out the door until Jack asked, “So, how what the bar last night? Meet anyone new?”

Richard didn’t know if he was joking or not, “No, just the same old same old. You’re young...” The warden who was several years younger stared at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Not like that, I meant… Well… Why is the bar empty? The only people there were the bartender, the clown, and several cargo techs watching the TV.”

“The rest of the guys just drink from the vending machines, they installed them while the bar was going through renovations, it’s pretty popular. Just the brands of mixed drinks in bottles and cans. They just swipe their alcohol card, and it gives it to them.”

Richard shuddered uncomfortably, “Discount brand stuff? That shit is disgusting.”

Jack sipped his coffee, “It’s what they like, they don’t wait in line to be served. And all the men are just hitting on the new nurses, who really don’t like the bartender.”

Richard thought about Bakes and how hard he worked on this station. If things didn’t change, he would get laid off or transferred to another station. “Why are they so catty? The felinids aren’t even that catty. I like Bakes, I don’t want to see him laid off or moved.” Jack nodded his head remembering the other staff who were replaced around the station. Richard mulled around some ideas in his head, “How about tonight we all head to the bar? my treat. We will take the volunteers too, this will be good for team building, show them we appreciate them.”

The warden’s mood brightened, “That sounds like an excellent idea. I’ll send the message to everyone. It will be perfect for the different shifts.”

Richard left Jack to enjoy his morning. He arrived back in his quarters opened his security locker and picked up his weapon belt and overcoat. A shining golden pin caught his eye and he pulled out the old black and red commissar hat. Flashbacks came to him when he joined Nanotrasen, his instructors all wore the same hat. Running a company like a military outfit was the only way they could maintain order in deep space. Rival corporations constantly declared war on each other, and the United Earth Government refused to police space. It fell to the hands of the employees to protect the station… and themselves.

He donned the hat and HUD glasses and opened the door to his office to fill out more bureaucratic nonsense. An hour passed as he double-checked his work. He thumbed through the paperwork when he realized the orders for the practice lasers arrived from yesterday’s order. He switched his headset’s frequency, “HoS to QM, did those security crates arrive?” No one responded. He stood up and headed back through the main hallway of security. Richard walked past Jack, “I’m headed out to pick up the training supplies.”

The warden chuckled at the old school look, “You look like you’re going to blow the brains out of a subordinate for fleeing.”

The HoS grinned back, “Like the good ol’ days, that’s the look I'm going for.”

He strolled through the halls and watched staff go about their business. Just another day on the station. He neared the service's main hall when he heard a faint sound of a laser blast. A whispered sound of whistling plasma originated from the cargo department.

The laser pistol switched to kill as he opened the doors into the cargo’s lobby. Blasts got louder when he entered the ordering room. Richard arrived at the cargo bay. He instantly put his hand to his face and shook it. Laser pistol lowered to his side.

The cargo bay was a mess, opened crates made two box forts on each side of the bay. A security officer on each side. The entire department laughed with practice laser pistols and rifles. Bolts of energy flew across the room. Sounds of capacitors charging and discharging caused the HoS’ tinnitus to act up. “What the hell are you idiots doing?!”

None of the participants saw the pissed-off head enter the bay. The QM was nowhere to be seen. Richard leveled his pistol, flicked the switch to disable, and then opened fire. One by one the amused cargo techs went down. Paralyzing shots jolted through them. Even the two officers that joined in the festivities went down just as they turned their attention to the blue blasts of energy.

The sound of blaster fire was replaced with pained moans. Each one rubbed the point of impact on their body as the feeling returned. “Those aren’t toys! They can still blind you if you get hit in the eye!”

The QM came out of his office after the moment of silence, “What’s going on?” His eyes were dilated, and he stank of marijuana.

“Doug care to explain to me why my training equipment is scattered throughout this department?”

He looked around the room as if he had never seen the place before, “Can’t say I can.”

Richard groaned and yelled at the cargo techs, “Put the weapons back in the crate, funs over!” He singled out the two officers, “Tweedledee and Tweedledum get your asses over here!”

The two officers stepped up, avoiding eye contact with their boss. He just shook his head in disappointment, “The fuck were you two thinking?” One stammered out an excuse while the other one just looked straight ahead. “God damnit you two if someone got injured.”

He scanned the room looking at the cargo techs putting away the practice lasers back in the crates. His keen eyes checked them for any injuries, constant eye fluttering, or excessive rubbing of their eyes. Typical signs of injury if they took a direct hit to the eye. No one had any symptoms.

“You both got lucky.” He sighed with relief and thought to himself how he would’ve been proud of them. If his officers had the cargo techs put on the eye protection that shipped with the weapons. He stared down at the weapon crates, beaten, battered, and scratched with crowbars and hammers. They pulled all the stops to get the high-security crate open. The security guards stood there shamed. “Take the crates to the warden, you idiots will be charging them tonight after shift.”

They moved quickly to lift the crate away. The QM wondered over to speak, “Sorry about the trouble, didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

Richard relaxed the fire of the gun fight in his body, “It could have been a big deal, I’m not going to report it, a waste of time for the both of us.”

Doug smiled, “Well that’s some good news, between the extra checks and orders, my list is full.”

As if on cue the speaker for the entire space station blared out with Trixi’s voice, “Attention crew, this is not the captain! He just forgot to log out of his console.” Bike horn honked over the intercom. Honk! She resumed her announcement “I do have some good news though; I found my joke book again! You thought you hid it in disposals from me, but I found it!” The sound of cargo was filled with loud audible groans upon hearing the news.

The com ended with the microphone being wrestled away from her. The HoS sighed, “Well looks like I have to head to the bridge now.”

Just as Richard went toward the exit Doug asked, “Can you deliver this paperwork to the captain? It’s from centcom’s distribution.”

He took the envelope from the QM’s hands, “You owe me.”

The doors hissed closed as Richard entered the bridge. One security guard, the head of personnel, and the captain stood around the clown who was sitting cheerfully in one of the office chairs. “Hi HoS, welcome to the party!” The clown joyously announced.

“Unlawful entry, tampering with equipment, interrupting work hours.” Richard went through the list of violations she had just committed. Martinez the captain had a smile on his face, he enjoyed the antics of Trixi. Ali was annoyed, constantly dealt with subordinates’ complaints about the clown. Trixi just bobbed her legs playfully while holding a golden book of comedy in her arms. A wide grin on her painted muzzle.

Richard inquired, “How did you even get inside here anyway?” He looked over to Ali, “Did you give her access?” Ali shook his head.

“I crawled in through the vents, I’m just small enough to fit through. I did some exploring and I found myself on the bridge. Pretty neat huh!” Her fluffy tail tip bounced beside her happily.

“That’s amazing! Wish I could fit through there.” The captain shook his belly inside his blue uniform with a hearty laugh.

“Alright, let’s go, Trixi, we need to speak to the HoS, thanks for bringing him here” Ali motioned out the door.

She held her book and was pushed out the door, her shoes squeaked along the floor the entire way, “Aw, I’m not going to be arrested?”

The frustrated HoP answered back, “Maybe later, right now there are more important things to deal with.” Ali pushed the button to shut the door behind the vulpes.

“What’s the problem now?” Concern in Richard’s throat as he glanced around the low-lit room.

The captain’s jolly nature was replaced with a sober deadly tone. “I filled out a request to have ERT stand by if things go south. Centcom isn’t going to send any reinforcements unless we lose 70% of personnel.”

Richard cupped his chin, “So we are on our own then. If we lose 70%, we’re already dead.” His eyes searched for answers just out of reach, “Do they want us to evacuate everyone? An emergency shuttle can’t hold 200.”

The captain shook his head, “They think it’s just a bug in the system and we are overreacting. I filled out requests for better equipment, riot gear isn’t enough to stop fully hard suited terrorists.”

The envelope felt like a fire in his hands, he handed it over to the captain, “I believe this is related to that.”

The captain tore it open and read it. It was crumpled and thrown away in seconds, “Dammit…”

Ali shook with fear, “What do we do now. The system isn’t bugged, we did diagnostics manually, electronically, and visually. They're out there.”

Martinez gripped him by the shoulder, “Calm down, maybe they left. Our probes haven’t detected anything.”

Richard flicked his wrist, “We have eyes all around the station, I put extra eyes on atmospherics and the A.I.. If so much as a fart the leaves the station, we will know about it.” He looked at the officer he assigned to post on the bridge who nodded confidently in return.

Ali’s shaking subsided as he took in a deep breath, “I always heard about what they do to the stations, never thought they would happen to ours. This is low threat space.” They all wondered the same thing, why this station. No answer they came up with would satisfy.

Richard returned to security to check on the armory. Laser weapons lined the walls and the center steel tables held batteries and charging ports. In several boxes were the new plates for his team. He hoped the science team made enough ceramic-coated asbestos plates for the security team and the volunteers. The tests proved effective to absorb several laser blasts. But a syndicate energy sword was a point of concern.

Jack walked into the armory to join in on the activity, “Everything looks fine boss, stop worrying.” Richard stopped and looked at the warden, who smiled confidently. “You've been frazzled more than usual. You sleeping alright?” It comforted him to know his men had his back, maybe he didn’t need to be so nervous.

“I’m just preparing for worst-case scenarios. Might even go around Nanotrasen to get my hands on real equipment.”

“Ha, I wish you would, but if they found out, it would be all our asses on the line, the QMs, yours, the captain’s, hell, even mine.”

Richard shook his head, the meticulous surveillance of Nanotrasen would probably use that very conversation as evidence for a court-martial. The maximum penalty for such an act in his position would be death. “I'm probably overreacting. It was just a few seconds of a signature, and we have probes out there searching asteroids.”

Jack patted him on the back, “Once you get a look at the drafted volunteers you will change your tune. Get them a bit of practice with the equipment, then we can work together and give the rag-tag syndicate agents a run for their money.” Jack looked at his PDA, “How about those drinks, we all could use a pick me up.”

Richard set the armor aside, “A few drinks can’t hurt. Tell Philhouse and Miller they can join us when they get done recharging those practice lasers.”

The bar was packed. 15 lizardmen and 4 human volunteers showed up along with the entire security team. Richard examined the group, the lizardmen grouped shily together while the humans stood away talking amongst themselves. A few lizardmen spoke draconic to each other in hushed words. Their scales were greatly varied, from earthy browns to seacoast blues.

Trixi approached the HoS. Her fur puffed, and her pointed ears laid back with an angry scowl on her muzzle, “You should have told me you were planning this! I didn’t prepare anything!” She pointed accusingly at him.

“It’s just for a few drinks, I wanted to make sure everyone was comfortable with each other. It’s my job to make sure the lines of defense on the station can work together as a team.”

The clown stepped back and looked around the room, “Oh, that’s what HoP asked volunteers for.”

“More like voluntold, half of them were probably selected because they were alien or a delinquent in their department.”

“Oh, like that one?" Trixi pointed out one of the humans, "Look at that cargo tech staring at the ceiling, I can smell like marijuana from here.”

The warden approached the two of them, “Well, this is the group that showed up, there were others, but they said they couldn’t make it.”

“Thanks, Jack, I will get to talking to them shortly. Everyone seems a bit on edge right now. I’ll order the drinks you tell the officers and those four to mingle with the aliens, we need to work together on this. Don’t want to just push myself in there just yet, they are ready to stand at attention at a moment’s notice.” Richard turned his attention to Trixi, “Trixi can you put on some background music, something to fill the dead air?”

She snapped her shoes together with a squeak and gave a poor salute, “Sure thing HoS.”

The next thing on his mind was the bar, “Alright Bakes, get them whatever they want, and if you could, it would please me to try the drink that is best for a lizardman palate.”

The lizard silently watched the people meander about the saloon. The colorful blue and green fin stretched up from the top of his head down to his back, “HoSss, why did you bring ssso many people here?”

Richard answered back in a confused tone, “I wanted to bring a crowd here like before the renovation. We seen so many crew members get replaced by vending machines, like that disgusting discount pizza.”

Bakes hissed out a sigh and relaxed the fin on the top of his head, “I appreciate it, it hasss been a while I ssseen many customersss. I thought usss lizardmen were in trouble at firssst.”

The answer took him aback. He evaluated the room and realized how it might have looked to gather the entire security team with every lizardman. He said calmly, “I’m sorry. The other heads just selected them on your past military experiences. Or at least that’s what I’m hoping they did, rather than just select ‘expendable’ crewmates.” Bakes sighed as he remembered the mistreatment he gets constantly from the crew. Richard ended the topic, “I’m hoping no one thinks this is ill intent, I treat them as if they were officers, I have to protect and serve the station.”

“HoP mentioned that. I wasssn’t hatched on Tizira, I didn’t ssserve” the lizard’s tongue flicked out.

“I remembered Bakes you were born on the human world of Hau.” Bakes’ eyes popped open in surprise that someone other than Trixi listened to him. “I want the crew to treat you well and keep you aboard. As a plus, we don’t have to drink that dog piss in the vending machine.” He looked into his reptilian eyes, “Trixi is right, we do appreciate you.”

"I’ll bring out the drinksss and I think you will like thisss drink.” He quickly vanished to the backroom to gather somethings.

Richard turned back to the crowd. Trixi messed around on stage and pulled out some speakers while everyone was still in their little cliques. He wanted a drink to help lube up the ol’ social muscles when one of his officers approached him, “Are you sure it’s okay to be drinking before shift boss?”

“It’s fine, back in the day we used to drink while on shift. And on the stations in the periphery, it’s encouraged. Just keep it under two an hour and you're good… Make it three, you had a rough transition on the shift change.”

The guard laughed at the encouragement, “I took some sleep assistors from medical. I’m right as rain.”

Loud blaring music started to play on the stage, what could only be described as clown music. Everyone covered their ears as the clown shuffled through a tablet cycling through different music. The mime exploded out from the back from stage right and started a makeshift fight with the clown.

The mime was wearing his traditional garb, black and white makeup, black and white striped shirt, and black overalls. His painted face was furrowed deeply toward the clown as he frantically took the tablet away from her. She fell back and clutched her chest, overdramatically feigning injury to the floor.

The mime pushed the control to stop the music and then tossed the tablet onto the wooden floor. He adjusted his chapeau and dusted his hands off silently. The crowd was pleased to no longer be hearing the blasted music. The mime then moved to the back of the speakers and then leaned down to mess with the cables. He then backed away slowly flicking his wrist outward while his other hand was cupped. His cupped hand dropped as he pinched something. Then he turned around and then pushed it forward. The mime showed off his exuberant smile to the crowd as he turned on his heels. He moved around stepping over something large then sat in the middle of the air.

A gentle wave of his hand in the air and the sound of a piano played softly through the speakers. The mime pinched up high and twisted, then his gloved hands started to dance in the air as gentle ambient rhythm filled the room. Trixi popped up joyfully as the crowd applauded the strange act and the music flowed gently in the air.

With the silence broken some of the officers stepped forward to speak to the aliens. Then followed the other human volunteers. Richard watched the crowd mingle, uniforms from every part of the station. His men got along with the lizardmen, he smiled and relaxed on the stool. Bakes returned and set down a glass of kortara.

“Thisss isss all I have left in my ssstash. The botanissst refusesss to grow the treesss.”

Richard looked at the single glass with concern, “I don’t want you to waste your special drink on me, if you want to keep it for yourself, I won’t blame you.”

“No sssir. I refussse. I want to sssee what you think of it.”

He sipped the drink, a sweetened hazelnut milk with the after-taste of alcohol. It wasn’t strong but if one had enough you could get drunk. He nodded approvingly of the drink, “Very good, thank you for sharing.” Bakes beamed at the reaction. “I’m going to talk to that botanist, it might just become my regular drink. Can you get some shot glasses, please? I want to share this with everyone.”

Bakes pulled out a tray of shot glasses and poured the drink into each of them. There was just enough to give everyone one. Richard held up his shot and stood on the table to get everyone's attention, “You’re all from many walks of life, but right now, we will need to work together. I don’t want to see us fail because of our differences, we are all living on this station, and we will all fight for this station. I’ll fight and give my life to protect every one of you!” He drank the shot and the others followed suit. The lizardmen noticed the flavor, immediately they were reminded of home. An approving smirk spread across Richard’s face as the remaining nervousness vanished.

The room filled with chatter, the lizardmen slowly opened up. Cave wheat brew started to flow and loosened the head of security up some more. He talked with each draftee and got to know them a little bit more. He sat back down on the stool and smiled. The lizards seemed quite capable.

The warden joined his side, “You look a lot better.”

Richard nodded, “You were right, as always. I was overreacting. Used to dealing with the bottom dwellers of the station, I forget there are actually decent folks working here.”

A few other lizardmen showed up late for a minute to greet the HoS and then pardon themselves from the festivities. Richard was pleased to meet all of them and the effort they showed to their extra duties. He hoped to see them in action with the weapons. Jack claimed they all took to holding the weaponry like they were hatched with them.

Night shift left for their duty and nearly everyone parted ways and said their goodbyes. Richard felt quite buzzed. An officer cried out, “Enough with the ligma jokes!” Trixi had her golden book in her hand and laughed as she chased him toward the exit. Her footsteps squeaked as he exited the saloon.

“Oh come on, it’s not my fault your name is Philhouse!”

Richard snickered which caught the little clown’s attention. Her eyes faced him like a high-end targeting computer, “Ha! I got you to laugh.” She ran forward and took the seat next to him, a smug expression on her snout, “Well that was a blast, makes up for the soreness you left me last night. My arms and legs were killing me from all the activity. I didn’t think you would push me so hard, and the way you handle your sword really got at the heart. You even showed me how to aim after I did the splits.”

Confusion took the inebriated man, “Why are you talkin’ like that?” He heard stifled laughter behind him. He turned and saw Jack and two officers.

Jack bellowed out loudly with some of the other officers, “R-really Richard? The clown-n? I guess ya did find someone last night, you can do s-so so much better.” Richard blushed and chuckled at the situation, being wasted kept him from knocking some sense into them. Trixi honked her bike horn, her smug expression melted to a forced cheerful smile. Honk!

“It wass just a training seshion, taught our little friend how to sshoot. She has potential.” She confidently puffed up her chest and held her head high. They just laughed harder thinking it was another joke as they walked out of the bar.

“Good un’ Richard, I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

She shrunk and her tail drooped. Richard dismissed the two with a wave of his hand, “Don’t listen to them Trixi, I didn’t forget we were ssupposed to go train again… We have ta push it tomorrow; I don’t think I can do anythin’ ‘cept make a fool of mysself.”

He took another mug and drank heavily from it. Bakes wandered to the counter again, “Thanksss for the helpersss, I definitely needed them tonight.”

Richard peered over his mug and saw the two greytiders elbow deep in soapy water in the back. “Oh good. Glad ta help!” Richard just stared in the distance; mind clouded with dwarven-styled ales.

Trixi tugged on his overcoat to snap his attention back to reality. “She’s over there.” Her voice was hushed.

“Who?” he responded turning around to look.

One of the lizardmen was sitting at a table alone. She wore the engineering department’s yellow jumpsuit. Her scales were vibrant blue and her smaller caudal fin was a deep forested green. He didn’t know how hard he stared at her as she glanced over and saw him, a concerned look spread on her angular muzzle.

He talked to her briefly when he introduced himself to everyone, got her name and some history on her home planet for her short stint in their military. Welds-the-Pipes wanted to leave the first chance she got. He turned away to not creep her out anymore, another mug in his hands.

“Well, aren’t you going to say something?” Trixi said louder.

“Let me thinks about that, ‘oh hi, I love your scaless, wanna get to know each other?’ That is just askin’ for troubles. Not to menssiun how drunk I’m bein’” The clown covered her muzzle to hinder the laughter at his self-reflection 14 beers in.

“Come on, it’s just a talk. Just walk up and say, ‘how are you, would you be interested in getting a bite to eat tomorrow.’ I’m sure she will say yes.”

He downed the other mug as replacement courage, ”Alright, I’m doin’ it.” Standing up he walked forward with surprisingly steady steps. Trixi watched with bated breath. The blue lizard’s fin shot up defensively as he approached, her anxiety on full display. The clown watched from afar as they talked with each other, the lizard at the table smiled cordially at the HoS. Then the smile vanished as he continued. Welds said some things in return then held her drink closer, a deep frown on her scaled lips.

The HoS responded with his hands up. He continued to talk for a moment then her mope faded. He waved good-bye and then turned around. Disappointment on his face. He returned to the bar and sighed back into his mug. He sat there and said nothing. He just nursed from his beer. Trixi opened her maw, “Well? What happened?” She continued to pester the HoS to get any information out of him, but he sat like a stone. She hopped off of her barstool to ask Welds what happened, just as the tip of her lizard tail vanished out the exit.

Richard finally answered her question, “She’s already seeing someone. I really fucked up.”

“I didn’t see a ring on her claw, you’re obviously a better pick th-“

He turned and glared her down, “I don’t play those worthless games, I’m not Rebecca!”

Fear struck her. He rubbed his tired eyes, “Sorry Trixi, didn’t mean to scare ya. It’s been a long day. Now I haf ta deal with hittin’ on a terrified lizard, I shoulda known that wass a bad idea.” His head rested on the counter with a loud bang, “Goddammit.”

The night was over, the music stopped and the only occupants in the bar were Bakes, the mime, Trixi, and the HoS. The mime was sitting in the middle of the air, his feet up high. he pinched his fingers together with his pinkie out brought it to his lips and sipped silently. Trixi never left the HoS’ side, he drank until he couldn’t move on his own anymore. “Bakes can I please get some water for the HoS, I think I should bring him back to his quarters.”

She forced him to drink some water and helped him off the stool. She tried to keep him moving out of the bar, but he was far too heavy to be carried alone. The mime got up and helped the poor vulpes, taking one arm around his scrawny shoulder. The two of them made their way out the door.

As they left the bar to the food court a surprising burst of energy overcame the drunkard. He pulled out his laser pistol and flicked his thumb over the settings, “Fucking bastard!” He fired off several shots of white plasma into vending machines on the far wall. The ion bolts arched electricity as they impacted the printed face on the side of the vending machine. The mime grabbed his arm in a hard jerk and forced him to return the gun to his holster. Fortunately, no one occupied the dining hall. Richard stumbled back with his arms in the air and spoke to an empty room, “Shorry folks, just executin’ hard criminls!”

Trixi approached him very slowly, her fur on end, “Sir, we need to take you back home. Shift’s over.” She gently touched his arm and wrapped it in her arms, the mime pulled his other arm around him and held on to it tighter this time.

Trixi looked up at the mime, “Thanks Jacques, you’re amazing.” The mime smiled brightly. Richard was still using his own two feet, but he stumbled left to right. He mumbled incoherently, talked about a war that may or may not have happened, cursed different names, and yelled about the space bees. The two entertainers did their best to guide him to security.

The arm Trixi held got a little feely. A surprised yip escaped as it stroked up her stomach, then wandered up and squeezed her prop bra. Honk! She just giggled at the action and looked up at the half-sleeping man. The mime’s eyes widened with worry for the fox. “Relax, it’s fine. I can handle a little grope.” She pulled the hand back to her side and sighed as they rounded another corner.

When they arrived, a recruit greeted them before they could make it to the door. “Thanks for returning him” he opened the high-security door and let the group into the security wing. Trixi grabbed the HoS’ arm to let them into his quarters.

Once the HoS was laid down on the bed, they both stretched, arching their backs. The mime over-exaggerated his movements rolling his shoulders and holding his back. Trixi was soon preoccupied taking in the room. It was so bland and barren to her sensibilities. Nothing occupied the walls, the only furniture he had was a chair, a computer desk, and a bed. There wasn’t even carpet over the basic flooring. Her nostrils flared as she took in the scent. The guard waited for them at the entrance of the room. Richard was already passed out on the bed. She took in a final breath before leaving the room.

__________

Despite the pounding headache, he continued his normal workout routine. The thoughts of last night buzzed in his head. The last thing he remembered was humiliating himself in front of what potentially could have been considered a subordinate. His fears contorted how she looked from a mild confusing glance to an abstract figure of disgust. It ate at him.

He tried to think of ways to not talk to her, maybe he could just remove her from the draft list to not cause her any more troubles. The weight slammed down on the bar rack. He got up covered in sweat and picked up his water jug, eyes burned from poor sleep.

“Sir, the clown wants to speak with you,” Jack said into his ear over the comms.

Richard clicked the button on his waist, “Tell her I’ll be done in 10 minutes.”

Trixi rounded the corner to the brig’s weight room. Her fresh makeup was still wet on her fur.

“She already ran past me.”

Richard shook his head and held his temple.

Her cheerful voice tempered off as she spoke, “Good Morning HoS, you sleep well?” She took a deep breath in and waited for him to finish.

He sat down and grabbed a rag, “Not well at all, sleeping with my gun jammed in the stomach didn’t help.”

She snickered playfully, “I could have stripped you before putting you in bed.” Her tail danced quickly behind her, “You drank pretty heavily, I just wanted to check up on you.”

“I’ve had worse days; I just don’t know what I said to Welds. I feel like a fucking moron now.”

Trixi wanted to touch her snout to palm it but held off due to the paint, “What? Why?”

Richard returned the weights to the racks, “I shouldn’t have done it, I’m higher-ranked and due to these extreme circumstances, I am technically her superior. On top of that, she is not single, and I want nothing to do with it.”

Her eyes danced over him as he got dressed, her breathing became quicker, “It’s nothing, I’ll talk to her tonight, she is going to be doing some laundry and I will make sure things are good… You worry too much about everything. You just asked a question. And… I got to get out of here.” She fidgeted on one leg then another.

He listened to her carefully, he couldn’t deny that he may be overreacting again… “What?”

She stood still, her gloved hands grabbing tightly onto her fluffy orange tail, “Oh nothing, I also came by to ask you another question. The mime was… talking to me about how you were acting and asked me to ask you to visit him. He thinks he can help you, he’s the station’s therapist.”

“Who on earth allowed that to happen?”

She shrugged, “He’s a very good listener, and he can’t talk about it to others. So you can tell him all kinds of things. Unless you want to talk to me, despite me being just a clown.”

“Your job is to entertain. I don’t need to drag you down to worry about issues in my personal life.” She stared at him with her big blue eyes. “I’ll go to the mime tonight. If it will make you leave me alone.”

She bounced up with joy, landing with a squeak before turning away quickly out of the room with her tail nearly hitting the back of her head, “Well… I’ll see you later, I got to go, bye!” And with that, the vulpes left. He picked up his PDA and added it to his schedule.

The shift continued. Richard walked the halls, everyone was performing their duties. The security department had everything locked up tight. He looped through the bridge just to keep updated on the probes. Hoping for a confirmation on the syndicate signature.

He made it a point to avoid engineering and medical. A chance run-in with welds was the last thing he wanted. While the staff in medical all spoke about the newly available bachelor. He shuddered at the thought. Old enough to be their father.

At the quartermaster’s console in cargo, his PDA beeped as he browsed through the catalog. A simple tweak could allow it to order military-grade weaponry. However, he hesitated. If his life was the only one on the line, he would have done it in a heartbeat. He stared at the order form. The PDA beeped again.

“Damn.” He made his way across the hall to keep his promise to Trixi. He wondered how the mime would even help. The sleepless nights, the broken home life. Maybe if he talked to someone it would at least be a placebo. On the bright side, the mime couldn’t break the confidentiality, with half station talking about his personal life.

The bar was packed when he arrived. The sight surprised him as he pushed the door open. Richard snuck through the back room behind the bar. Bakes greeted him, “Hello HoSss… the vending machinesss… downssstaresss… Electrical failure…” His mouth parted to take in air and cool him off as he frantically ran back and forth to fill another mug.

He watched the lizard work and the crowded bar area. Glad to see his friend working again, even if it meant the place was too packed to be comfortable. Richard smiled, “Not surprised to hear that, those machines are as put together as the drinks inside them. I’m just here to see the mime.”

Bakes nodded and pointed with the tip of his tail, “Just… around back… his quartersss… he’sss on break…”

He waved farewell and exited through the back of the bar. He pushed through some storage boxes and exited to the back hall. The several service dorms were lined on the steel corridors. The doors were more personalized than the dormitory wing. Bakes’ room was the first in the line, draconic marked a little placard that hung with magnets, followed by Trixi’s door which had a cute drawing of herself smiling. Then the mime.

On the mime’s door hung a picture of the old Eiffel tower. An ancient relic from when the earth had nations. Richard sucked in a breath and knocked on the door. He waited to hear something but remembered this was the mime. His weird magic or psychic powers prevented that. Or it was just an act?

Squeaking shoes came up from behind. He turned toward Trixi expecting to see a white painted-up face. Her make-up was wiped clean off, orange fur, and a bright toothy smile. She started to bounce around the HoS.

“I’m so glad you took the advice!” Trixi wrapped around his stomach and gave a hug as hard as she could. Her prop bra was squeezed between the two of them and let out a honk. Honk!

He held up his hands defensively away from her, “Maybe. I checked Jacques’ background. A Ph.D. in psychology. It’s always the silent ones.”

She laughed at the lame joke, “Well, I think it’s something you need. You've been working yourself too hard, and you bottle everything up. It’s not healthy.”

Her shoes squeaked as she looped around him some more. Her bright blue eyes contrasted heavily with her orange fur. Richard asked, “So what’s with the no make-up?”

She checked her face with her paw, “Oh right. my makeup was running from the heat of the bar, I needed to reapply it. There are so many people now that the machines were destroyed.” With a paw to the side of her muzzle, she whispered, “Don’t tell Bakes about this, but I saw he was jumping around ecstatically when the crew started to flood the bar.”

Richard smirked, “Good, I was worried the easy-going bar was going to make him soft.”

Trixi whispered out softly, “So about last night… Do you remember anything?”

“I was told you and the mime brought me back to my room. I haven’t drunk in such a long time I became a lightweight.”

“Well, that’s good… well I mean… at least you had a good time. I hope anyway.” He nodded approvingly. The vulpes just stared up at him her muzzle expressing a pout of concern, “I don’t know exactly what threat is going on, but everyone is on edge. All the officers just ignore me entirely. All they do is focuse on the different tasks around the station. Even when a funless human complains about a banana slip your troops just pick him off the ground and tell him to shut up. It’s not normal, you seem to be the most affected by it, on top of all the other things you've been through.”

She scratched nervously at the side of her face. The stress got to the clown, which is a bad sign for the rest of the crew. A robust canary in the proverbial coal mine. She continued, “When I found myself in the bridge’s vents I popped out and announced myself to everyone. The HoP and the captain were just staring intently at the screens as their life depended on them. The captain loves my shenanigans I was hoping to hear his jolly laugh.”

Richard wondered what to say to help her. Tell her the truth about a rival corporation bursting down the airlocks and killing everyone in sight. No regulations required him to tell her that or keep it from her. He decided to go for an easier option. He looked into her sad eyes and hugged her. “It’s nothing, we're just overreacting. It’s gotten everyone on edge.”

She rubbed the side of her muzzle into him as his hand stroked her back up to her nape. Her breath became more rapid as the hug continued. He felt her become more jittery. Bounced from one leg to another. “Oh great. again…” The vulpes complained and then broke the hug and stepped a few paces back.

Wondering if he had done an offense to the little alien he asked, “Something wrong?”

She shook her and hid her cheeks with her paws. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just got to go take care of something… again.” She moved quickly to her dorm room and vanished as it sealed shut with a hiss.

He watched her fluffy tail disappear through the door. He then rubbed his hand that touched her fur. She was incredibly soft. The corner of his eye suddenly caught something abnormal. A white-painted face silently smiled in a black void of an open door.

Richard jumped back a bit started by the visage. The mime stepped forward and grabbed his hand aggressively and shook it. When Jacques released the hand he made tons of gestures, so fast that the HoS thought he had a stroke.

The mime slowed down to a more manageable speed. He placed his hands behind the top of his head like make-shift large ears, then his mouth moved like it was speaking. He then pointed at himself. Finishing it by bowing and extending his arms inviting Richard into his room.

“Trixi told you I was coming. Yeah, I understand.” Richard walked through the door to the mime’s dorm. The room was quite different than he expected. The furniture was flowery with cloth upholstery. There was a large chaise lounge in the same flowery design in the middle of the room.

The mime moved behind the chair and presented it to the HoS. The warm expression he wore under the painted face instilled a weird mixture of fear and ease. Richard laid back on the chair and observed the mime as he started to adjust something.

His hands looked like they adjusted a large cone. Then he bent down in an overdramatic way and shuffled with his index finger and middle finger along a surface. He picked up an invisible circular object and placed it under the nonexistent cone. He pinched something and slid it over what he placed down. Then music flowed out.

It was a piece of gentle accordion music. He bent down again and twisted something; the sound became a whisper in the background. The mime nodded and plopped down in the middle of the air across from the HoS. The mime’s hand moved up to his ear. After that, he adjusted some imaginary glasses to begin writing down on his palm which was his index finger.

Richard looked at him perplexed. Wondered if this was a serious situation or a prank. He looked at the wall behind the mime that floated in thin air and saw very real accolades. Two degrees from earth’s most prodigious schools, Ph.D.’s in psychology and criminal justice. There was also an advanced mime school dated several years later.

“Well, what would you like to hear about first. I will be as honest as I can.” Jacques placed a finger on his chin. He started to silently act out coughing and sneezing while sticking his tongue as if he were ill. “Am I sick? Not that I know of.” The mime shook his head and then placed both hands on the side of his head and tried to close his eyes but kept opening them intermittently.

“Symptoms, trouble sleeping… Yes.” The strange therapist wrote that down with nothing, on nothing.

“I have been sleeping terribly, maybe two hours at a time before I get up again. It takes me another hour to get back to sleep.” The mime nodded then made a motion of unscrewing a small bottle and pouring it in the back of his throat. “No, I’m not taking any medication.” He smiled and jotted that down.

He motioned putting something around his neck then jerked both arms down. He tilted his head and stuck his tongue out. He turned and tapped his head then pointed at the HoS. “No, I don’t have any suicidal thoughts.” Jacques wrote that down nodding slowly.

He proceeded to pantomime stress by looking around nervously around him. Richard already knew he was stressed out and rolled his eyes at the waste of time this whole appointment. Then the mime looked at him seriously, peering with his black and white painted face that would be terrifying if it was in a dark corner.

Jacques stood up and proceeded to walk out the door while his mouth moved in makeshift blabber. He was stopped by an invisible wall. He attempted to pry the wall using a doorknob but couldn’t do it, all the while still making the same blabbering. He held his finger up and stopped the movement. He tried the invisible doorknob again and it opened letting him through the invisible force. He motioned one final time sweeping the finger to the door to his very room.

“Nothing will be discussed outside of this, well that’s good to… hear.” Richard chuckled and shook his head slowly. “Heard that one before.”

Jacques sat back down and took his ring finger, he pulled on it aggressively and made a throwing motion across the room with a deep scowl. His expression faded and then waited for a response.

Other than Jack, he never told anyone about his divorce. Even when he told Jack it was just about how he had to get a lawyer to deal with his estate and affairs from off-world. “You want me to start from the beginning?” Jacques nodded showing no emotion as he continued to hold his imaginary clipboard.

“Been married for 15 years, it ended sometime 8 months ago. Or at least that’s when the paperwork was finalized.” Richard stopped and leaned back in his seat. The mime frowned and made circular motions to keep going. “I don’t know what else to add. I got screwed over. At least mostly, thanks to my lawyer and the damn emails I got from Rebecca I was able to keep 90% of my home back on Raia.” The mime looked at him curiously then pointed to his eyes and moved down at his clipboard.

Richard sighed deeply. “They were sex videos, about 10 of them. Made me vomit on the first one, I didn’t even bother looking at the rest. She sent them to me saying how I have been terrible to her for always being gone. The videos were dated as early as two years prior.” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist.

The mime stood up with a box, he turned a wrench twisted a screwdriver on the box then handed it off. Swiped his brow before he switched places and took the box batting his eyelashes and then threw the box down while bellowing out a silent laugh.

“Yeah, I gave everything to her. Part of me feels it’s my fault. I work on the station, and I only come back two months of the year. What kind of life is that for her?” The mime pondered for a moment then slid his fingers on his ring finger, followed by inserting a slip with a large lever on the side. He held up his finger, then switched the actions.

“I was working before I got married, she used to work for Nanotrasen as well when I met her.”

The mime got a disgusted look on his face. He made an hourglass shape with his two hands and then scribbled on his palm with an index finger and then placed an invisible ring on his finger. “She signed up for it?” The mime nodded and then tapped his head.

The mime then acted like a weight was on his back as he walked forward, holding on to it with dear life. He followed that up with a climb and sat effeminately in the air and fanned himself off while. Richard sat back and watched the mime act out in other similar manners.

Out of all the many years, he tried to make the relationship work as he was out in space. Rebecca was sick of working for Nanotrasen and wanted a quiet life planetside. He provided it. She wanted property and a large house. Once again, he provided it. She wanted her medical degree paid off; he worked that debt off. She then demanded his time, he spent so long working he got to this position. He couldn’t create time.

The frustration was visible on his face as the mime did his routine. Jacques stopped, sat back down, and composed himself. He held up a hand and bowed toward the HoS. Richard sighed and stood up, “I gave her my life. I was a servant to her while she was relaxing in a house I had built. She was safe while I am risked my life through various super matter collapses, hostile takeovers, laser battles, and criminal negligence.”

The mime nodded and rolled his wrist to goad him on. Richard teared up thinking about them all the time lost. He poured out his frustration for almost an hour, “It had to be two years ago when she said how happy she was in the house. Before that, I had a message from her a month prior with her screaming at me how I was never home. She mentioned that damned daughter of hers. She claimed that she wanted me home.” Jacques held up a hand to get his attention. Once his teary eyes turned to the mime, he had an inquisitive look he held his arms under his chest and swayed them slowly back and forth.

“Another man. Victoria was five years old when I met her mother. Looking back on it, she was used as a tool to keep me around, every time Rebecca and I would argue she would just bring her up and I instantly caved. I tried my best to be there for her, but as she grew up, she just kept saying how I wasn’t her real dad. Even when I took time off for her 16^th birthday and bought her a new car. It hurt.” Richard paced heavily around the room. His hands occasionally swiped away at his eyes.

The mime shook his head and frowned. He stood and hugged him and patted him on the back. Richard sniffed and held the mime tightly. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and keep the well at bay. Once the embrace was broken the mime smiled, his make-up stained with tears of empathy. He pulled out a handkerchief for his patient.

“Thanks, doc, I needed that.” He wiped his face and held his head high. Felt like a vice unscrewed from his head. A glance at his wrist revealed he went way over the time limit, “I’m sorry, I took too much of your time.” The mime waved it away dismissively. “Just send me a message when you want me to schedule for the next session. I think I should probably keep doing this. Keep the CMO and Trixi from pestering me.”

Jacques smiled, he then pointed at Richard then both of his eyes. He then motioned near his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Opening them like a pair of binoculars just over his eyes. Richard tried to guess what he referred to. “My glasses, my eyeballs, vision?” The mime shook his head frustrated.

He pointed again at Richard then placed both hands on his heart and beat them up and down at a steadily increased rate. He pointed at his eyes and then looked down. He stepped to the side and got to his knees. His hands made makeshift pointed ears on the back of his head and looked up at Richard batting his eyelashes quickly.

“That’s rich. you think I have a thing for Trixi.”

Jacques jumped up and rolled his eyes. He pointed at himself again then at his eyes and with a large sweep he pointed at Richard. With a quick movement, he stroked his own body. He pantomimed mouth movements with his hands. He dashed toward the wall and started to write excessively large invisible letters.

Richard sighed, “You’re getting weird, you believe my body is telling you I like the clown?” Jacques nodded and smiled wide. The HoS just shook his head and started to walk toward the door. The strange thought the therapist had was easily dismissed. Liking a clown in his position, that’s a joke Trixi would have made.

As the door hissed open Trixi leaned on the hallway wall across the way. She wasn’t wearing her make-up, nor her silly outfit. Just the standard Nanotrasen blue service coverall. Her tiny claws peeked out under her pant legs. She looked up at the HoS and smiled in her usual heartwarming way, “How’d it go?”

The mime mouthed his words quickly ending with a nod and smile. Trixi understood it as if spoken in perfect common, “Good, glad to hear that. We need our first line of defense to be healthy.” She grabbed the HoS’ hand, “Now, you said you were going to teach me to shoot.”

With his other hand, he slapped his forehead, he has forgotten about the complete conversation this morning. “You were waiting out here… for hours?”

Trixi shrugged, “Well, pretty much yes.” She stared up at the HoS waiting for his answer.

The mime leaned on his door frame watching the two. His grin grew wider as he watched their conversation. Trixi’s eyes glanced over at him and when Richard turned around the mime whistled silently staring at the ceiling.

Richard shook his head slowly at the mime and then turned back toward Trixi, “I’ll go pick up something from the office, meet me on the holodeck. Okay?” Trixi’s eyes beamed open, and a bright toothy smile spread on her snout.

Her voice bubbled up to a near shriek of joy, “Really, I thought you were going to back down! You are going to teach me?”

The HoS was confused by that statement and looked at her queerly, “I don’t lie. I say I’m going to do something I’ll do it…” He walked down the hall, “I’ll be at the holodeck shortly.” She continued her jumps of joy, springing around the hallway.

__________

A holodeck room was once again secured by Richard. The room was transformed into an expansive grassy field littered with targets. Different sized target dummies, characters from video games, and cardboard cutouts. All the fun things one would ever want to shoot at.

Trixi and Richard stood in the center of this near-endless field next to a table. Her enthusiasm wore on her sleeve. Richard produced a small metal box and handed it to the fox. She quickly unlatched the box and was greeted with a practicing laser. An expensive device that is still banned to non-weapon trained individuals.

“Is this mine?”

“Sure. Just don’t let any officers see you with that, especially Beepsky. It’s not a toy, even though idiots seem to think otherwise.” He handed her a set of safety goggles and specialized ear protection, “Safety, is always important.”

With the formalities ready he pulled out his energy gun and fired off several shots downrange. The plasma bolts arched up and exploded the distant targets. She stared at her little energy weapon. The yellow paint job indicated it was a practice weapon. Like a kid handed a bb gun, she loved it.

She aimed like a crossbow, the butt of the handgun placed to her cheek. “Hold it!” She froze. He gently grabbed her arms and corrected her aim. “Aim it like this.” Arm stretched out; the digital sight came into view. She lined the holographic point onto the closest target dummy and fired.

The plasma fired out and the gun nearly flew out of her hand. Richard watched her carefully as the bolt splashed into the grass below the target she aimed at. He gripped her hand, “Both hands hold and squeeze here, and crush. It’s designed to simulate everything about a standard weapon.” The vulpes nodded and tried again.

The weapon was drained completely. A button was pushed to reset the test dummies. Trixi chatted as the batteries were changed out, “I spoke to Welds while you were talking with Jacques. She laughed about it.” The HoS rubbed his face embarrassed about the situation. She reiterated, “It’s fine. I swear. She was flattered you approached her. Lizardmen are used to forwardness.”

He sighed with relief, “Thank you. That takes more of the pressure off.”

“Good, that’s my job on the station after all.”

He pushed a button on the table and moving targets blinked into existence. They were 8-foot-tall syndicate insurgents. The black armor flared with dark red edges. Red glowing dots for eyes on their hard suit helmets. They started to strafe around quickly. Richard pointed to them, “See if you can hit these targets.”

The vulpes gulped down her breath as she saw the massive men in the distance. She carefully squeezed the trigger blast at the target, the hologram dashed out of the way quickly as the plasma shot closed the gap. Missed by a few inches. She tried several more times but every time the hologram would dash out of the way just at the last second. Trixi cried out in protest, “This isn’t fair, my shots are too slow!”

Richard smirked, “You gotta shoot faster then. Look at how they move and account for it.” He pulled his gun again and fired two shots in quick succession aiming at the furthest hologram. The hologram juked the first shot by inches. It attempted to pivot to avoid the second shot and was struck in the chest. The hologram vanished into thin air.

Trixi’s maw was open in awe, “How many fights have you been in to get that good?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “26 long years, been in far too many I care to remember. I wish I had never been in any fights, gang warfare, xenomorph attacks, escaping a second before the station’s core detonated. If I didn’t get good, I’d be dead. But this is what my life has turned into… What about you? What made you want to be a clown. You have been on the station for more than 3 years.”

She blinked and wrapped her arms under her breast, “I’m not interesting.”

Richard cocked an eyebrow, “Really, a vulpes clown is already rare. An alien clown on an inner world's station is even rarer.”

“Well, I didn’t really want to be a clown when I started, I just saw an opportunity to work and took it. I had no idea what I was signing up for. When I arrived at the Nanotrasen school I saw everyone was wearing funny outfits.” She remanences, “They were so happy to see an alien though, it was the most fun I had in such a long time.”

Richard smiled, “Sounds like a great time, lots of laughs.”

“It was a nice change of pace. My home life wasn’t great before I joined… I decided to leave after high school because of my sister.” Her tail dropped and she had a dejected look on her face.

Curiosity overwhelmed him, “Do you mind me asking what your sister did?”

Her bright blue eyes stared at him through the safety glasses, “She didn’t do anything wrong. She’s lovely, kind, and did her best to please. It’s my father who pestered her to ruin her life.” She sighed and clenched her arms tighter around herself. The subject clearly caused her discomfort.

He changed the subject immediately, “Go ahead and follow two quick shots, I want to see you hit that middle target before we get done. Okay?”

She smiled at him picking up her practice weapon again and aimed. As Trixi’s training continued, she breathed deeply. The artificial smells of the room were faded and only the real scent lingered in the air. Richard stepped closer and helped her line a longer shot up. She pressed her nose into his cheek. The moisture startled him, and he pulled back. She stammered out apologetically, “Sorry! I didn’t mean t-to do that.” Nearly dropped the laser she covered her nose.

He wiped his cheek defensively and then surveyed her form once again. Her orange fur was radiant in the simulated sunlight. “It’s alright…”

The practice laser was lowered and placed back into the box. Her bushy tail dropped as the box was snapped shut. “I think I should head to sleep now. If the rush in the saloon continues, I will need to plan more events,” her voice trailed down hurt.

He examined her and wondered if he had done something to upset her. “I’ll see you then… Keep the drunkards in check while you perform.”

Her ears pointed up and her paws clasped his hands, “I’d love that!”

Her smile was infectious, and he beamed back to her, “Good.”