Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or Galaxy Quest or any of their related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other Questarians like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

Rating: T+

Spoilers: Set at the beginning of the run of the original Galaxy Quest television show, as though the show were real, so pretend you are a Thermian watching it from space. Of course all the actors are about 22 years younger than they are in the movie, which takes place eighteen years after the end of the show's four-year run. Music may be anachronistic to the 1980s when the show was supposed to have aired, but this all takes place over two hundred years from today.

Chapter One: Brothers in Arms

"And I may be passin' out on Friday night, but come Sunday I'll be passin' the collection plate," Tech Sergeant Chen Ming sang over his guitar, unaware of the sound of his cabin door opening or the entrance of Ensign Tommy Laredo, at seven years old the youngest crewman ever to don an NSEA uniform.

"'Between Raising Hell and Amazing Grace' by Big & Rich, right? Late twentieth century Country Rock," Laredo said, startling the engineer. "Dude, you know all that old stuff, don't you? I hear you in here playin' it on your music system all the time."

"How do you know that song?" Chen said, putting aside the guitar.

"My dad listened to all that stuff. Had quite the collection. Everything from the nineteen-thirties on through the 2120s. After that, he didn't care for music much. You like that?"

"I'm kind of more from the seventeen hundreds on through the present."

"You like all that 'Bum bum bum BUM!' shit? Beethoven and all that?"

"I kind of just like music. Doesn't matter what. I will confess I like the late twentieth, early twenty-first century probably best of all, though. And don't curse, kid. It's a bad habit to get into. You're too smart for that. What are you doing here?"

"Knew you had the night off. Knew you wouldn't have any plans. Figured we could hang," Laredo said, plopping himself down on the edge of Chen's bed. He spied the bottle of bourbon on the desk next to the engineer's chair and his expression sharpened. "Man, what are you drinkin'?"

Chen put the bottle away in a drawer. "Not what I'll be drinking for the foreseeable future," he said. He got up and went to the synthesis machine on the wall by the door and asked for two Nutella snack packs, and two bottles of Code Red Mountain Dew. He handed one of each to Laredo. Laredo opened the bottle of cherry-flavored soda and drank with glee, but regarded the snack with suspicion.

"What's this stuff?"

"Just take the leap. It's worth it," Chen said, opening up his own and dunking a breadstick in the cocoa-hazelnut spread. Nut allergies weren't a problem anymore in the twenty-third century, so he didn't have to ask.

A little hesitantly, the boy opened the pack and dunked a breadstick. He bit the chocolate-coated end off and chewed, then his face lit up. "Wow, that's the shit." Chen gave him a hard look and he amended. "I mean, that's good stuff."

"So, what do you want to do, Ensign?" Chen asked.

"Man, don't call me 'Ensign.' We're off-duty. If you can't call me Tommy then just call me Laredo. Everybody else does," Laredo said. "Even when I'm on duty."

Chen laughed. "Yeah, I know. And I was kind of just joking with you, when I called you 'Ensign.' What would you rather I called you? Laredo, like everyone else?"

"Actually, it would kind of be nice if somebody on this ship called me Tommy."

"I guess I know what you mean. You know what? You can call me Ming, if you want to."

"That's your first name?" Laredo asked.

"Yeah."

"It's written last on your documentation."

"It's Chinese."

"Oh. So you put your last name first."

"Exactly."

"You Chinese?" Laredo asked, a deeply quizzical expression on his face. "'Cause you look about as Chinese as I do, Ming."

"My father was Chinese, Tommy. My mother was Lebanese."

"Is that some kind of alien?" Tommy asked.

Chen was stopped short by the question, then remembered that he was, in fact, speaking to a seven year old, smarter than hell or not. He cleared his throat. "So, you're a hotshot helmsman, but Earth Geography wasn't one of your strong suits, eh?" he said.

"I didn't want to fly around earth."

"Lebanon is a little country near Turkey. The nation Turkey, not the bird."

"So, you from China or you from Lebanon?" Laredo asked.

"I'm from Green Bay, Wisconsin."

Laredo burst out laughing. "So Daddy got to name you, then, I'm guessin'."

"Not entirely. My middle name is Adeel. I never use it because I don't know what order it goes in."

Tommy lay over on the bed, holding his stomach and kicking his legs, laughing fit to burst. Chen smiled. It wasn't really that funny, but at least the kid got a laugh out of it. It had to be hard, being a seven year-old on a ship full of adults. He himself, at twenty-four, was thought of as something of a wunderkind, having designed much of the sparkling new ship and its advanced engine systems, but seven? That was simply unheard of, even if the kid was "just" a helmsman and didn't hold an advanced degree. This was going to be a long voyage. No one was entirely certain how long. And potentially very dangerous. The kid had to be the best of the best to get plucked for this assignment. It was quite an honor.

"Man, how did you get a private cabin?" Laredo said, looking around. "This place is nice. You've got video streaming, your own music system… Man, I'm down in the barracks with the rank and file."

"That's because you're part of the rank and file, Ensign Tommy Laredo," Chen said, grinning. "You may have been hot stuff at the Academy, but you haven't proven yourself in the Fleet yet. Patience, youngling. You'll get here someday. Probably pretty quickly, given your record."

"They say you're just a kid fresh out of Academy, too," Laredo said. "How did you prove yourself so fast?"

"I designed and built the Protector," Chen said. "That kind of thing tends to get you promoted pretty quickly."

"So this really is your ship, huh?" Laredo said.

"Kinda. I mean, she's Commander Taggart's to command, but she'll always be my baby."

"Do you ever think maybe you need a girlfriend?" Laredo said, wrinkling his nose.

"Aren't you supposed to think girls are yucky at your age?" Chen asked.

"Hey, I'm young, I'm not stupid," Laredo said. "And you're not getting any younger."

Chen grabbed at his chest. "Oh! My heart! That was stone cold, Tommy."

"I'm serious, Man. Whenever you have liberty, all you do is sit in your room and monkey with tech and listen to music. You should be out there makin' friends and connections. You don't want to be alone all the time we're out here in space, do you? That's gonna make for a long, lonely ride."

"Tommy, are you trying to tell me I need some friends my own age?" Chen said, settling back in his chair and looking hard at the little boy.

"Yes!"

"Well, I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I am just fine. I was just worrying about you, to be honest. There's a pretty strong dearth of children on board."

"I don't really fit in with kids," Laredo said. "I'll be just fine where I am."

"Well then, we're both just fine. Matter settled," Chen said.

"Yeah, right," Laredo said, looking doubtful. "Long as you got your guitar and your soldering iron."

"What else does a man really need?" Chen said. "Well, aside from a good pair of needlenose and a small collection of hex wrenches."

"See, now I don't even know what you just said."

"That's because you're a helmsman. You don't need to know."

"You walk so slow. Why is that?"

"Because when I start moving fast, people start to panic."

"How many engineers does it take to change a light bulb?"

"According to my calculations, the problem doesn't exist."

"You actually do have a personality. Why don't you let it out in public?" Laredo demanded.

"It's a… 'special occasions only' kind of thing. You know, something you pull out of the china cabinet for fancy dinners with important guests."

"I know what it is. Man, you shy."

"I am not shy. I am simply reserved."

"Oh? Well if you ain't shy, then you'll be able to do the following no problem. Walk right up to Lt. Madison and say 'Hello.' That's all, just one word. 'Hell-o.'"

Chen's brown face turned bright red. "I can't do that," he stammered out.

"Why not?" Laredo asked.

"I don't want to bother her."

"Dude, you don't be botherin' people by sayin' hello! That's called bein' nice!"

"Only when you're on the same social level," Chen said.

"What'chu talkin' 'bout, Man? 'Social level?'"

"In the real world, Madison wouldn't even look at me. In the confines of a starship, she might not have much choice but to see me once in awhile, but that doesn't mean I have the right to talk to her outside of a professional setting."

"Dude, you screwed up in the head," Laredo said, with a wave of one tiny hand.

"Look, do you want to watch cartoons or something?" Chen said, picking up the remote to his video streaming device.

"I came in here to listen to music. You got any Michael Jackson?" Laredo said.

"Yeah. But I can do you one better," Chen said, a slow grin starting up across his face.

"One better than Michael?" Laredo said doubtfully.

Chen brought up his music application and expertly paged through his artists' list to the Ws. He brought up "Weird Al" Yankovic and the song "Eat It."

"I understand you're kind of finicky down in the cafeteria. Won't eat the regular slop with the rest of the crew," Chen said. He hit play. "Weird Al's" whiny voice commanded the boy to "eat it" as he had countless other youngsters for over two centuries to the tune of Michael Jackson's hit song "Beat It." Laredo lay over giggling.

"Dude, who is that guy?" he said. "I ain't never heard this before."

"You've never heard of 'Weird Al' Yankovic?" Chen said. "Well, settle in, youngling. Your education begins now." He set up a playlist and sat back down.

Two hours later, Laredo left Chen's room, still laughing and singing "Another One Rides the Bus." On his way back to the barracks he ran into Lieutenant Tawny Madison, the primary computer technician aboard the Protector.

"Oh hey, Laredo, you look happy. What have you been up to?" she said.

"Oh, I've been kickin' it with Tech Sgt. Chen," he said.

She rolled her eyes partway up to the ceiling as she pondered that. "That's… nice. What's that like, exactly?"

"Oh, he's a great guy, really. But I don't know if I'll ever get him to come out of his shell and make some real friends. He could really use them. He's not as geeky as you'd expect, you know, from an engineer. He really needs friends. I think bein' alone all the time is makin' him develop some bad habits."

"Like what?" Madison said, not sure she wanted to know.

"Well, when I walked in, he had a whole bottle of bourbon out… and not one glass."

"You know, you might be right. Maybe he does need some friends at that," Madison said. "But who do you think he'd get along with?"

"If he weren't so damn shy, I'd say he'd get along with just about anybody," Laredo said with real heat. "But he won't let himself open up. You've seen the way he is around you, right?"

Madison sighed and shook her head. "Yes, I have. It's sad, really. What does he expect me to do? Breathe fire?"

"He says he's not on the same social level," Laredo said.

"What?"

"Yeah, that was what I said."

"Well, if I go out of my way to be nice to him, maybe he'll loosen up. I'll let others know, too. We'll get him some friends. And Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

Madison smiled at him. "You're a very good friend for looking out for him like this."

"Hey, you take care of your brothers, right?" Laredo said, grinning. He saluted and continued into the barracks.

He had created a monster.

Okay, perhaps he couldn't have been expected to cover all the bases, even with the full team of engineers he worked with, and it hadn't been his responsibility in the first place to load the food synthesizer he had invented with the foods it was to reproduce in the first place, but a plain bagel, untoasted, no toasting option? Whose fucking idea was that?

And the only cure for the untoasted condition of his bagel was on the counter of the Officers Mess: a shiny silver toaster circa 2020 or so. Seriously, at least in model design. The machine itself was probably not that old, probably. How long ago did most people stop toasting bread in heat induction toasters? More than a century. It was archaic. Yet here there was, a toaster as the only breakfast solution aboard the most state-of-the-art ship in the entire NSEA.

And for some reason, it didn't seem to work.

The lever wouldn't push down all the way and click in. It wouldn't accept the sacrifice and heat up, damn it. He had only been standing there messing with it for a couple of seconds or he would have figured it out for himself, but of course someone walked it on him. Lt. Madison, in point of fact.

"Having trouble?" she asked.

"Who uses a freakin' toaster these days?" he said.

"Everybody on board the Protector who wants nice, crisp bread - or a bagel, in your case. Try plugging it in."

"Plugging it in? It runs on freakin' electricity?! Why was it unplugged in the first place?" Chen said, plugging in the socket.

"Because we, the non-engineers amongst the crew of the Protector, are scared to death of the damn thing. We don't want to leave it plugged in between uses, so everyone knows - unplug after use."

"Who brought a toaster on board a space ship?" Chen groused.

"Someone who wanted toast. It's the only means we have of getting any. Quite frankly, scary as it may be, we're all glad it's here."

"I can't believe the food synth doesn't have a toast option. It can't be loaded in now?"

"Apparently not, at least not by somebody who isn't an engineer."

"Well someone should have brought this problem to me, then. Having this toaster on board is a potential safety hazard. It's not like we're real well supplied with fire escape routes."

"We figured you had bigger problems. And that you'd notice it, sooner or later."

He sniffed the air. "Oh, dear God. Does it always smell like that? See, if I smelled that smell in the engine room, the fire insulation systems would be going off right now. This is not right. This is not right at all. It smells like it's going to ignite."

"Well, how dark do you like your bagel?" Madison asked, grinning.

"Not very, and it doesn't even look crispy yet. You know, I think it's been long enough." He popped the lever. "I'll get somebody up here to fix the settings on the food synth so we can throw this death machine out the nearest airlock."

"Your fellow officers will thank you," Madison said.

Chen went to the food synthesizer and asked for and received a package of Nutella spread. He opened it up and grabbed a butter knife to spread it on his bagel halves.

"What is that? Is that chocolate?" Madison asked, with great interest.

"Oh, this is better than chocolate. This is Nutella. It always amazes me how many people are still ignorant of Nutella. It's been around practically forever."

"If it isn't chocolate, what is it?" she asked.

"Hazelnut and cocoa. Made by the Ferrero candy company."

Her eyes grew huge. "You mean Ferrero Rocher?"

"That's one of their products, yeah."

"Oh, I love those! Can I… try some?" she asked, gazing upon his bagel with undisguised covetousness.

He picked up one half and pushed the plate and the other half towards her. "Bone apple tea," he said.

"What?" she said.

"Ah, just something this old friend from the Engineering Academy used to say when he meant 'bon appétit.' He was a derp. Well, we were engineering students. We all were. I've been thinking a lot about the Academy lately."

"How long ago did they cut you loose?"

"About six years."

"Oh. You know, I really didn't think about it much, but somehow I imagined that you were younger than me."

"I'm twenty-four."

"Oh. You are." She stepped back and stared at him. "You graduated from Engineering Academy six years ago? Isn't that like an extra four years on top of Academy Basic?"

"Eight years. I got a Doctorate."

"Holy shit," Madison said. "Then why does everyone call you 'Tech Sergeant?' Shouldn't they be calling you 'Doctor?'"

"Doctors and scientists are doctors. Everybody else with a doctorate who wants to be called 'doctor' has a stick up their ass."

"Aren't you kind of a scientist?"

"No. I figure out how to make things work. I don't figure out why they work."

"But you know why they work, right?"

"Because I've studied the work of the scientists who've figured that out. They come up with the theories, I put them into practical application."

She fiddled with the bagel. "Is Tech Sergeant really as high a rank as you can get?"

"On a ship. If I go planetside, back in Research and Development, I can rise higher, but I… I don't know, I guess I joined NSEA to actually see space. Strange thing for an engineer, maybe, but most of us did that, didn't we?"

"It seems kind of belittling for a man with a doctorate. I mean, what is a Sergeant in the NSEA, anyway? We don't use that rank anywhere else. It's not much of anything in the Army or the Airforce. Isn't the Airforce the only other military organization that uses the Tech Sgt. rank? I think it's only like an E-6, isn't it?"

"Well, in the NSEA it's chief of Engineering on a ship," Chen said. "I don't feel particularly belittled. It's a pretty big deal for someone my age. The NSEA kind of segregates its engineers into their own little private world, with their own private rank system that nobody in the wider service really understands. As far as rank is concerned I'm about equal to a Major. As far as pay grade goes… well, let's not discuss that."

"So I should salute you."

"No."

"You outrank me," she said. "By a lot."

"Doesn't matter."

"If you were planetside, would you still be Tech Sgt.?"

"Assuming they didn't give me a promotion, they'd call me Tech Commander."

"Why don't they call you that on the ship, then?!" she said.

"I don't know. Probably because it sounds too much like 'Commander?'" he said, shrugging. "Taggart has the same kind of issue. If he weren't captaining a ship, he wouldn't be a Commander, he'd be a Colonel."

She nodded and bit into the bagel. "Oh, my God," she said, after chewing and swallowing. "Why did I not know about this before now?"

"Don't know. It's in the food synth, so they must have given us their sponsorship. Kind of them. You can get it in snack packs with little breadsticks or pretzel sticks to dip in it, too."

"Ohhh…"

She finished off the bagel half. He had expected her to just take a bite, but whatever. Then she looked at him again. "So you really like the exploration side of the service?"

"I wanted to give it a try. Plus I wanted to be with my baby on her maiden voyage, make sure it all went smooth."

"Your… baby?" Madison said, one well-plucked eyebrow elevated.

"The Protector. I, uh… had a hand in her development," he said, suddenly remembering that he didn't really talk to this woman outside of passing professional information. His face went dark as he blushed and his eyes widened.

"Oh yeah? What part?" Madison asked.

"Um… all of it."

She hopped up onto a seat on a countertop. "Tell me the story," she demanded.

"No story. They just… needed engineers for a project."

"And so they made a twenty-four year old chief of Engineering on board the biggest, most expensive, most technologically advanced ship in the fleet? Because you were just… one of the random engineers working on the project and they, what, drew straws?"

He knew she wouldn't let him go if he didn't tell her. "Do you remember Operation Longview?"

"Well, yeah. That's what led to the construction of the Protector in the first place, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. But it was mostly a tremendous waste of finances, because every proposal they put forward failed time and time again, for almost a full decade before the Protector was even proposed. They were damn close to scrapping the project entirely. The NSEA made one last-ditch effort to save it, and planned a project to build a long-range starship that could actually travel through a black hole. Something no known race has ever done before. They had all the best minds working on it. Even the Maktarians were giving aid. Doctor Lazarus was working on it."

"Yes, he has mentioned that he worked on Operation Longview."

"Well, they had all the best scientists but they felt they needed some fresh engineers, so they put out a sort of 'call to action' for qualified engineers to submit designs for starships, engines, basic utilities, life support systems, all kinds of things we'd need for such a long-range voyage as they were planning for this."

"And you submitted something that was chosen!" Madison said, beaming. "What?"

He seemed to withdraw into his uniform slightly, like a turtle trying to draw into its shell. "All of it."

"What?" she said, half-laughing as she spoke.

"They didn't use all of it, things got redeveloped over time as I got together with other engineers and we worked things out, but… yeah. The Protector is… pretty much my ship."

"Wow. You should be the Commander," Madison said.

"They offered. They said they'd put me through Command Training if I wanted it, but… I'd rather be in the engine room. I could never do Taggart's job."

"Don't sell yourself short. You're in command of the engine room."

"Small potatoes compared to the entire ship. And I still had to take those two years of Command Training."

"So you really could be the Commander!" Madison said.

"No. My marks were not nearly good enough. I lack leadership skills and esprit de corps."

"You're a good enough leader to run our engine room," Madison said.

"Most of those guys down there have been engineers in service longer than I've been out of Academy. They don't really need to be led, and they kind of resent being led by me."

"But because you lead, they don't take it out on you."

"Yes they do. In myriad little ways."

"Like how?" she said, seeming genuinely indignant.

"Oh, just dumb little pranks. The kind of things engineers pull on each other."

"Like what?" she said, looking dangerous now. He remembered hearing something about her being an expert at some form of martial arts, but that might have been just a rumor.

"Oh, just, like… plastering these little 'made in China' decals on all the engine parts…" he mumbled.

She jumped down from the counter and paced back and forth. "That is… that is just so damn petty and cruel and… stupid! I can't believe in this day and age we still have people doing that kind of shit!"

"It's nothing, really. I posted a notice in English and Chinese saying that graffiti artists would be caned and I haven't had a problem since," Chen said.

She exhaled heavily. "Well, kudos to you for keeping a sense of humor about it. I would have exploded all over that engine room. It would have taken days to count the dead."

"I learned a long time ago that if you laugh it off, they typically learn to leave you alone. They may even start to think you're okay."

"You got bullied a lot as a child?" she asked.

"I was the only Chinese kid in my school. I was also the only Arabic kid in my grade. On top of that, I was the biggest nerd in twelve counties. Of course I got bullied. Either you get bullied or you are a bully, that's kind of the way the world works, and most of the bullies are probably getting bullied somewhere farther down the line. Either you develop defenses or you go through life with a lot of raw wounds. A good sense of humor is the simplest and easiest fix that I've ever found. And I'm pretty good at fixing things."

"Can you fix yourself? 'Cause I think you're kind of a lonely guy," Madison said. "Just an observation."

Chen's hands twitched in that way they always did when he was backed into a social corner and there were no tools around to grab hold of. He gave a weak, tremulous smile. "Have you been talking to Ensign Laredo, by any chance?" he asked.

"He may have mentioned something about an open bottle of bourbon and no glass to me, but I don't remember quite what," she said.

His face darkened again, but not with embarrassment. His mouth tightened down to a thin, hard line. "The young crewman needs to learn to keep his mouth shut," he said.

"He's just concerned for you," Madison said, eyes all sympathy. "So am I, Chen. Come on, come down to the Officer's Lounge and start hanging out with us. Make friends. You're obviously a great guy, what are you afraid of?"

There was a slight twitch in his upper lip that added somehow to the anger behind the reflection off his dark eyes. "I don't need to be anyone's charitable project. Thank you, Crewman Madison. Good day."

Shoulders back, stiff as a board, he marched out of the mess hall and off in search of Ensign Laredo. Hard to find one particular crewman on an ordinary ship, but this was no ordinary ship. He brought out his Vox communicator and set it to locate.

"What crewman would you like to locate?" the communicator's computerized voice asked.

"Ensign Thomas Jason Laredo," he said.

"Crew Deck D, currently approaching VR Recreation Area."

He had meant it when he told Laredo that he moved slowly because people panicked when he ran, but he broke into a run now. He'd run track in high school and at Academy, and he could move when he wanted to. There was a fire on board this ship that needed to be extinguished very quickly. Crewmen ceded the way to him as he passed, their eyes wide and fearful, wondering what was wrong with the ship.

The VR Recreation Area was dimly lit, so as not to interfere with the various interfacing consoles around the room. It was a large area, suitable for the four hundred and ninety-seven regular enlisted crewmen, and he would have had to use his Vox to find Laredo if he hadn't heard the boy's voice the moment he walked in.

"Why you thinkin' you need this console? I'm already usin' this one. Go use another," Laredo said.

"This is the console I always use. It's my console. You go use another," another voice said. Deeper. Older. Meaner.

"I didn't see your name on it," Laredo said.

"You're gonna see my fist in your face in a second."

"Come at me, bro!" Laredo said. Whether he was emboldened by the sight of Chen stepping up behind his bully or not was an open question.

"Why you little -" the crewman said, but that was when Chen grabbed him by the shoulder.

His eyes flicked down to check the crewman's rank and name. "Private Hansen. What exactly is going on here?"

The young man's startled expression hardened again. "Private business, Chink."

Chen locked eyes with the young man. The hard stare was actually something they taught in Command Training. Don't blink, don't sweat, don't swallow. There were cats aboard the Protector, a part of the mental health initiative, and every now and then he practiced staring them down. He was pretty good at it, really. If you could stare a cat down, you had game. This acne-spotted Basic Trainee didn't have much chance.

"I think you had better rethink what you just said, Private," he said, slowly and carefully, after the young man looked down. "Words like those, spoken to anyone, let alone a superior officer, can end a career. They can even put you in the brig."

"Who's a superior officer?" the boy demanded, regaining some hostility.

"Hansen, you're an E-1. Everyone is a superior officer to you. Ensign Laredo is a commissioned officer. He's superior to you. And he can put your sorry ass on report just as easily as I can."

"You wouldn't dare, feeb," the young man said, puffing himself up to look bigger than he was. He was taller than Chen and fairly well-built, but no Mister Universe.

"Oh, did I make it sound like a possibility?" Chen said. "Let me make it clearer for you. You. Are on report. Submit yourself for disciplinary action. You seem to have a major attitude problem and a distinct lack of respect for the uniform you're wearing, so keep this in mind for the future: whatever punishment Security Sector deems appropriate this time, next report you get, for whatever reason, lands you in the brig. Get one more after that, and you're in the brig until we arrive at a starport or an allied planet where you can be dropped off and shipped back to Earth or another NSEA headquarters to be dishonorably discharged from service. We're going a long way from anywhere the NSEA has ever been before, so you might want to think about either changing your attitude in a hurry or getting these disciplinary actions out of the way quickly so that you can get off this ship and out of the service now before you're stuck in that brig for the full five years of our initial tour. We're all in this for the long haul, you know. They may even extend our exploration when the five years is up. Have you considered that?"

Suddenly the acne-studded meathead didn't look as large. Chen took the opportunity to draw himself up larger. "Report to Security for discipline. Remember that if you do not show, they will track you down and you do not have anywhere to hide on a starship. Now get out of my face. I'm sick of looking at you."

Hansen scuttled off. Laredo smacked his hands together once he was out the door. "Damn, Ming, you straight-up ballin'! That was awesome! He comin' at you all 'what'chu gonna do?' an' you stare his ass down!"

Chen turned those dark, angry eyes on Laredo.

"Uh, I mean, Sir?" Laredo said, straightening up and saluting nervously. When Chen said nothing, he said, "Did I do somethin' wrong?"

"Tommy," Chen said, imbuing the boy's name with a certain ominous emphasis, "you told Lt. Madison about the bottle of whiskey on my desk. Now she thinks I have a drinking problem. Do you know how fast a rumor like that can spread throughout a ship like this? Do you realize what that could do to my career?"

Laredo's eyes grew huge and teary. "I was just worried about you, Ming," he said. "I wanted you to make some friends before you started thinkin' that bottle was all you had. My dad was that way."

Chen closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and opened them again. Then he knelt down in front of the little boy. "I get what you were trying to do, Tommy," he said, in a gentler tone. "But you've got to be careful with what you tell people, especially when you're talking about someone else. You can hurt yourself, and you can hurt them, too. You don't want to hurt me, do you?"

Laredo sniffled and shook his head.

"Now you're a smart kid, and you see everything there is to see. You saw the bottle was open, and you saw there wasn't a glass, but did you see that the bottle was completely full?" Chen said.

Laredo thought, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah it was."

"That's right. I hadn't taken a drink yet. And there's a big difference between a man with a bottle sober and a man with a bottle passed out with his face in the toilet bowl. Do you think maybe you overreacted?"

"Don't know. Was it your intention to be passed out with your face in the toilet bowl?" Laredo asked shrewdly.

Chen laughed. "Not hardly. I'm not a big drinker, Tommy, I swear. I just don't like to do dishes."

"Okay, then I guess I overreacted."

"Could you do me a big favor and tell Crewman Madison that? Before this catches fire?"

"I will, m'man. And I promise, I won't never say nothin' 'bout nothin' again. Even if I catch you passed out face down in the toilet."

"Tommy, if you catch me passed out face down in the toilet, I want you to promise me that you'll Snapchat that shit and post it to everyone aboard, because that will be too good to pass up," Chen said, smiling.

Laredo's cute little face split in a huge grin and he hugged Chen's neck. "Man, you are the coolest," he said. "And thanks again for taking care of that wannabe thug for me."

"I got your back, bro," Chen said, hugging the boy back.

Commander Peter Quincy Taggart was furious. "Where is the freakin' toaster?" he demanded.

Lt. Madison bit into her Nutella-slathered bagel, chewed and swallowed calmly before answering. "Tech Sgt. Chen threw it out an airlock."

"What?! That was my toaster! Who gave him the authority?" Taggart shouted.

"On his own authority. He considered it a safety hazard."

"Now how am I supposed to toast my freakin' English muffin?" Taggart demanded.

Madison turned her head to look at the food synthesizer machine. "Try that, Sir."

"What? That doesn't work. That's why I brought the damn toaster on board in the first place."

"Chen fixed it, Sir."

"He… he did? Let me see this." Taggart strode to the food synth, demanded a toasted English muffin, and was pleasantly surprised when a pair of perfectly crisped muffin halves dropped onto his plate. "Dear sweet Lord. There's a special place in heaven reserved for Chen Ming and all engineers like him. Does this actually mean we can have toasted buns on sandwiches now?"

"It does indeed, Sir. Grilled and butter-grilled, too. He thought of that without prompting."

"Oh, I hereby submit that man for a Commendation."

He got some strawberry jelly and put it on his muffin, then stood eating for a time in silence until Madison was moved to speak. "Sir, did you know how much Tech Sgt. Chen had to with the Protector project?" she asked.

"I know he was on the team of engineers that built her. Why?" Taggart asked.

"She's his design. Completely. She's his ship. Sir."

Taggart stopped his chewing and swallowed hard. "She's my ship, Lieutenant," he said, smiling uncertainly.

"You command the crew, but who really knows the ship herself, Sir?"

"You kind of talk like he gave birth to it or something," Taggart said.

"He kind of acts like he did, Sir. He calls it his 'baby.' I think there's more than a strong attachment there."

"You think he's obsessive?" Taggart said.

"If you were in his position, wouldn't you be, Sir?"

"Ha! Maybe a little."

"You know, Sir…" Madison said, wiping the excess Nutella off her fingers with a towelette, "I've heard rumors… that the other engineers have been giving Chen a bit of a hard time here and there… because they resent having such a young chief of engineering. Chen seems to be handling it quite well, if the rumors are true, but… maybe you could… keep an eye on the matter?"

"What kind of hard times are they supposed to be giving him?" Taggart said, affable face clouding over.

"Pranks, mostly, or at least that's what Chen says, but I've heard there are… racial tensions."

"Well, Chen hasn't reported anything, so I'll let him handle it his own way for now. He's a high-ranking officer. If he can't handle his own men, then he doesn't deserve his position. But, uh… discretely… I will be monitoring the situation myself. I don't need bullies on my ship. And it is my ship, even if it is Chen's baby. He's the father, but I'm the husband, dammit."