As Lieutenant Tony Daugherty from the Mobile Infantry exited the bridge, Kenthelion shifted his gaze toward Carmen.
He paused for a moment, his eyes resting on the woman before him-her Federation uniform fit her frame impeccably, accentuating a near-perfect physique. Her short hair was neatly styled, her face symmetrical and clean, radiating the cold beauty of a seasoned war veteran.
Carmen
"Why are you looking at me like that, Captain of the Alesia?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Her tone carried a trace of suspicion as she glanced down at herself, checking for anything out of place.
Kenthelion
"Hello, Captain Carmen of the John A. Warden. My name is Kenthelion," he said with a calm, formal smile, his voice steady.
Carmen
"Captain Kenthelion, you seem... a little harsh on the Mobile Infantry, don't you?" she asked flatly, though there was an analytical sharpness in her eyes.
Kenthelion
"Captain Carmen, let me ask you something-what would you do if a group of Mobile Infantry barged into your warship's command deck without clearance?" His gaze locked with hers, waiting for an honest answer.
Carmen
"I'd kick them out too," she replied after a brief pause, weighing the scenario.
Kenthelion
"Then I haven't done anything wrong. And for the record-I don't look down on the infantry." His tone remained neutral, though resolute, one hand slightly raised as if to dismiss any lingering doubts.
Carmen
"Alright, forget it. What matters now is... can you track the John A. Warden?" Her voice shifted-earnest now, eyes fixed on him with urgency.
Kenthelion
"I'll try. But I can't promise results."
Carmen
"Thank you, Captain Kenthelion."
Kenthelion
"You're welcome." He turned to Jonah and gave a crisp order.
Kenthelion
"Jonah, track Captain Carmen's battleship, John A. Warden. Find out where they're headed."
Jonah
"On it, Captain."
Suddenly, one of the comms officers chimed in.
Comm Officer 1
"Captain, we're getting a report-Mobile Infantry personnel in Section D are on rest break... and it looks like a fight just broke out."
Comm Officer 1 (cont'd)
"A duel between Private Chow from A-01 and Sergeant Ratzass from K-12, sir."
Kenthelion
"A fight? Hmph. Mobile Infantry really is bursting with energy." He turned to Carmen with a faint, amused smirk. "Captain Carmen, care to see it for yourself?"
Carmen
"Why not? It's not like there's anything more exciting going on aboard your ship," she replied dryly, though she followed him without hesitation.
Flanked by four Terran Marines in gleaming blue armor, Kenthelion and Carmen exited the command bridge together.
----
When Kenthelion and Carmen arrived at Area D-the informal rest zone for the Mobile Infantry units-the scene before them was far from what one would expect from the Federation's elite forces.
Two Mobile Infantry soldiers were locked in a fierce brawl at the center of the room, surrounded by a raucous crowd of cheering comrades. The circle had formed like an impromptu gladiator arena, and no one seemed the least bit concerned by the sudden presence of a commanding officer and a senior captain.
Kenthelion's gaze settled on a figure standing out starkly from the crowd: a striking blonde woman wearing nothing but a makeshift towel wrapped around her upper body. Despite her minimal attire, her posture and sharp eyes radiated authority-a presence not easily ignored.
It was Corporal Deborah Ogden, better known by her call sign "Ice Blonde"-or simply, Ice. A member of Roughnecks A-01, one of the Federation's elite Mobile Infantry units. Deborah's reputation preceded her-not just for her combat prowess, but for surviving the Starship Troopers: Invasion incident of 2012. A mother, a soldier, and now-a woman clearly unimpressed by the man staring at her.
Deborah caught Kenthelion's eyes on her-more specifically, on the towel. Her expression hardened immediately.
Corporal Deborah Ogden
"You're staring. Too long. You do realize that's rude?" she said, stepping forward, her gaze unblinking. The insignia on Kenthelion's uniform told her all she needed to know-this man was the captain of the Alesia.
Kenthelion
"And you... chose that outfit knowing the whole unit would be here? Were you not fishing for attention yourself?" Kenthelion replied calmly, letting his eyes drift once again down her body up and down making no effort to hide his interest.
Porcelain-white skin, a mature figure like that of a seasoned young mother, and an expression sharp as a combat knife. Deborah was equal parts breathtaking-and lethal.
Her fist clenched tightly.
Deborah
"Your rank won't protect you if you say something like that again, Captain."
Carmen, arms folded across her chest, watched the exchange with a thin smile. She knew Kenthelion had just lit a fire-and a part of her hoped Deborah would give him the kind of lesson every man deserved for treating women on a ship like mere visual entertainment.
But Kenthelion didn't back down.
Kenthelion
"You're welcome to try, soldier. But you won't be the one putting me on the floor."
Deborah
"Say that again, and I'll make sure you kiss the deck." Her voice was cold, living up to her nickname.
Before Kenthelion could reply, another voice broke in.
"Then count me in too."
Tia Durer-known as Trig, the sharpshooter of A-01-stepped forward to stand beside Deborah. Her hair was tied neatly back, her expression just as unwavering.
The two brawling soldiers had already collapsed onto the floor, panting, perhaps a little ashamed for having turned a personal dispute into a spectacle.
Now, the room's mood shifted completely. The cheering stopped. Silence fell like a curtain, thick with tension. Every eye turned toward Deborah, Tia, and... the captain of the Alesia.
Kenthelion leaned in slightly, his eyes locked on Tia Durer-the elite sniper clad in a skintight black leather uniform that looked equal parts armor and a statement of dominance. Everything about her-the stance, the stare-dared anyone to challenge her... or try to bring her to her knees.
"If you lose," he said smoothly, "what's the prize?"
Tia arched an eyebrow, her voice cool and sharp.
"A captain who just lounges around on a warship wants to challenge two front-line soldiers?"
Kenthelion didn't flinch.
"If you lose... you'll spend the night with me."
His smile unfurled slowly-infuriating, cocky, and entirely too pleased with the chaos he'd just unleashed.
Carmen shot him a daggered look, her tone like a slap.
"You have absolutely no shame, Captain Kenthelion."
Deborah
"You perverted bastard-I'm going to teach you a lesson."
Deborah's voice exploded like a grenade. The moment Kenthelion had the gall to suggest they should "keep him company" tonight, her face flushed red-not with embarrassment, but with fury. Without another word, she began suiting up in her combat armor-not for training, but to beat some manners into the arrogant bastard.
Tia stood frozen, silently staring at Kenthelion. Her eyes were sharp, unblinking-like a sniper zeroing in on her target. Yet behind that icy gaze, something flickered. A spark of reluctant intrigue... born from the ridiculous confidence this man carried like a second skin.
Tia Durer
"I don't know why... but I think I'm starting to like you, Kenthelion."
Kenthelion
"Suit yourselves. Whether you agree or not, it's none of my business. But if you're too scared to step up, then let's just pretend I never said anything."
He grinned, his tone turning deliberately condescending.
"Looks like the big, bad Mobile Infantry isn't as fearless as the propaganda claims. All tough when it's bugs you're fighting-but too scared to go up against a ship officer?"
It was like throwing gasoline on an open flame-and Kenthelion knew exactly what he was doing. A blatant provocation, daring them to bite.
Deborah
"You arrogant bastard... We both agreed to come here. But now, you're practically begging for a beating. Don't come crying when you end up black and blue."
Kenthelion
"And you, Miss Tia Durer? Have you made up your mind?"
Tia Durer
"How do you know my name? Have we met before?"
There was a flicker of hesitation in Tia's voice-borderline defensive. She hadn't expected Kenthelion to recognize her.
Kenthelion
"I don't know you. But aren't your names listed on the enlistment forms when you signed up for Mobile Infantry?"
He flashed a smirk that was more mocking than friendly.
A short distance away, Carmen stood with arms crossed, watching the exchange with a stony expression. She didn't intervene-at least not yet. But a different question echoed in her thoughts: Is brute strength the only language they understand?
Watching Deborah and Tia posture like two stormtroopers with something to prove, Carmen sighed internally.
They're not much different from Johnny Rico-brave, stubborn... and maybe just a little short on brainpower.
Tia Durer
"Eh... I forgot."
Tia gave a sheepish smile, realizing she'd just let a crack show through her normally icy composure.
Mobile Infantry A-01 and K-12
"What the hell's going on here?"
Two other Mobile Infantry troopers appeared from around the corridor, looking confused as they stumbled upon three women standing with a naval officer.
But their confusion quickly vanished when they recognized who was in front of them.
Mobile Infantry A-01 and K-12
"Sir!"
They snapped to attention, saluting sharply. It didn't take long to register that they were standing in the presence of two captains.
Kenthelion and Carmen returned the salute with brief, authoritative nods. Kenthelion's gaze lingered on the troopers, his eyes heavy with unspoken weight-like he was already mourning those who wouldn't survive. The image of the John A. Warden torn apart still haunted him, and a quiet truth hung over the room: most of them wouldn't be coming back.
Kenthelion
"So, Miss Tia Durer?"
He turned back to her, that same teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Have you made up your mind about my challenge? Or better yet-why not raise the stakes and add Captain Carmen Ibanez to the mix? The three of you... tonight."
His gaze shifted slyly toward Carmen, laying a trap with subtle venom.
Carmen
"I'm not playing your game. Handle your own mess."
Her eyes narrowed like a predator's, glaring straight through Kenthelion. She was seething beneath her calm surface. This man had no shame-none. Even in front of fellow officers, he was still every bit the shameless flirt.
Kenthelion
"So, what does that mean, Captain Carmen? Are you scared? Even though there are three of you-and two are elite Mobile Infantry soldiers?"
Deborah
"Come on, Captain Carmen! Let's teach this perverted bastard a lesson. Tia and I can handle him. You've got nothing to worry about."
Deborah grinned with fiery enthusiasm, slapping Carmen's shoulder as if dragging her into the game by sheer force of will.
Carmen looked at Deborah, exasperated. On one hand, she knew Kenthelion was just playing his usual game of words. But refusing to play along would make her seem like she was backing down. He wasn't just baiting them-he was selling this little wager like a crooked vendor peddling poison disguised as wine. And the worst part? He made it sound like a good idea.
Tia Durer
"Captain Carmen, just make the promise. Deborah and I will do the smashing. You can sit back and enjoy the show."
Tia's smile was calm but firm, her sharp gaze betraying a flicker of curiosity-perhaps even a bit of reluctant admiration-for Kenthelion's sheer audacity.
Carmen
"You two really... don't have to indulge this nonsense. Kenthelion is-"
Before she could finish, Kenthelion cut her off sharply.
Kenthelion
"Then it's settled. I'll use both hands against the three of you," he said, stepping in and slicing through her protest like a clean blade through fabric. He knew full well that if Carmen kept talking, she might derail the whole game.
He walked forward casually, closing the distance between them. His gaze landed on Deborah-trailing from her icy eyes down her jawline, then further, tracing the powerful curves of her lean, combat-hardened body. There was no shame in his stare, no effort to hide his appreciation.
Her sexuality was undeniable-and Kenthelion wasn't pretending otherwise.
Deborah
"You perverted bastard, watch where you're staring!"
Unable to take any more of Kenthelion's provocations, Deborah lunged forward, throwing a straight punch aimed directly at the captain's smug face.
Around the small makeshift arena, curious Mobile Infantry troopers had started to gather. Word had spread fast-an officer from the warship was about to take on three fierce women from the Mobile Infantry. Cheers and shouts of encouragement echoed off the walls. Strangely enough, they weren't rooting for the captain-they were loudly backing the three striking women preparing to beat him down.
Kenthelion sidestepped the punch with surprising agility. In a single swift-and almost playful-motion, he slapped Deborah's ass with the flat of his hand.
Smack!
The sound rang out like a gunshot, drawing roars of laughter and gasps from the watching soldiers.
Deborah
"You bastard! I'm going to kill you!"
Her face flushed-whether from rage or embarrassment, no one could tell-Deborah launched another attack. This time, her knee shot up, aiming straight for Kenthelion's gut with full force.
Kenthelion blocked it with one arm, then, in a flash of instinct, grabbed Deborah's thigh and spun them both around, flipping their positions. In the blink of an eye, he was holding her in a side-clinch-close, too close for it to be mistaken as any formal combat move.
Before he could deliver the sarcastic remark that was already on the tip of his tongue, he felt a sudden gust of movement coming from behind.
Tia Durer.
Silent as a shadow, she came at him from his blind spot.
Kenthelion reacted instantly-still holding onto Deborah with one arm, he twisted his body and leapt sideways, narrowly dodging Tia's first strike. But Tia wasn't done. Moving like a seasoned fighter, she spun and launched a swift side kick, targeting Kenthelion's midsection while he was still off balance.
In a blink, Kenthelion raised his free arm and caught her leg. With shocking strength, he yanked hard.
Tia lost her balance and tumbled straight toward him-just as Kenthelion dropped to the ground, still holding onto Deborah.
In a bizarre, chaotic, and unintentionally theatrical heap, all three of them crashed to the floor-limbs tangled, bodies pressed close in a pile that would become the stuff of barracks legend by nightfall.