The small boat zipped speedily through the waters. One man watched sonar, while another looked around slowly with binoculars, looking for anything that shouldn't be there.

The boat was sized for about six to ten or so people at most, but was large enough for what it was doing. It was not a battleship by any stretch, but to spot trouble required willing men more than grand vessels. The coast guard was on duty.

On Earth, they had to fight smugglers most often. Human smugglers, drug smugglers, and other sorts of illicit goods tried to make its way through the waters to arrive in America to make illegal men wealthy.

Not if they had a say in it.

A ship was spotted, by sonar and sight. It was a large boat, a cargo one by the look of it, and it belonged there. Some of the people on it waved at them on their slow way past, and the servicemen had the politeness to return the gesture, but they were far more interested in what was not supposed to be there.

They didn't see anything out of place.

Those who approached had the sense to not come to them directly.

"Incoming pirate vessel," came in over the radio. "We are speeding up to dissuade pursuit but they're coming in fast and hot. They're already taking shots." The noises of the gunfire could be heard over the radio.

The coast guard's boat banked under the control of its pilot, turning rapidly towards the sieged ship. "Pirate attack in progress," radioed another man, passing the message on to other ships and the shore. "We are intercepting." Coordinates were given. It never paid to go rushing in without letting others know where you were.

"Merchant vessel, do not engage pirates. If they board or are about to board, retreat to the safest room you have. Do not argue or fight the pirates." There was no reason to risk civilian sailors trying to do what the coast guard was trained to do.

The ships came into view. The rogue ship was tiny and low in the water, but all the speedier for it. An engine ran wildly in the back. It was easy to forget that natives did have engines when they cared to have them. The rest of the boat was so old fashioned, made of wood as it sluiced through the water.

The pirates were a collection of birds and lizards, each wielding a weapon. The largest, a frilled lizard person, had a gun in either hand that each looked to be the size of a shotgun.

Despite being birds, they had no wings to speak of, and did not take flight, instead scaling right up the side of the ship the moment they were in range.

"Pirates are on board merchant vessel. We are on the scene and moving to engage."

The lizard spotted them and hissed with a curled and forked tongue. They leveled their large guns at their ship and fired wildly, spraying the front of their speeding ship with buckshot and forcing the soldiers to duck. The glass at the front became a spider's web of tiny cracks, broken by the shot.

"Returning fire." A man grabbed for a mounted gun at the fore-side of the ship and swiveled it towards the small pirate vessel. With a great roar of discharging munitions, holes began to appear all across the enemy ship, punching right through the wood as if it wasn't there. The lizard staggered back, red appearing across its front, clearly struck.

But it didn't drop. The lizard roared so loud it could be heard over engines and the distance, firing wildly towards them. Most of the servicemen kept their heads down and low, but the gunner homed in with his aim, turning it back on the lizard directly.

The would-be pirate was thrown back against the ship he head meant to board, ripped apart by the heavy machine gun. For just one moment it looked like he might try for a final shot, but the gun he had meant to use fell from a numb hand. He collapsed into the perforated bottom of his ship, the entire craft threatening to sink with the damage it had taken.

"Fucking hell," grunted out one of the defenders of the water, clutching his shoulder where a bullet had found purchase. The pirates were firing at them from the deck of the ship they had scaled. The angle was poor for taking cover.

The gunner swept his weapon up at the deck. "Tell me the crew's not up there." He didn't have much time to wait for a definitive answer for that, laying down a carpet of covering fire that drove the pirates away from the edge, allowing them to pull up beside the larger ship, but also cutting off his angle to use that gun any more.

"They're breaking in," came the distressed radio call. There was no time to wait.

They got to scaling the ship, storming it. Even as their boots slammed into the metal, fighting for grip as they climbed, one of the pirates leaned over the side. Exposed, too exposed. A sharp snap, then a splash. One of them fell into the waters, shot by the handgun of their quarry.

Other shots fired in response, wild bullets more than enough to scare the pirate back for just a moment, long enough for several men to get up on the ship.

"Freeze," bellowed a man, an automated weapon held in both hands now that he was standing even with them. "Drop your weapons on the ground."

There were two pirates there on the deck. One of them trembled and backed away, their gun hanging limply from hands that didn't want to cooperate entirely.

The other had more of a backbone, raising their g-- A line of bullets ripped across their front, sending them into a spiral before slamming down on the deck. The automated gun was brandished by its wielder towards the other pirate. "Get down, now!"

The bird squawked as they flopped artlessly next to their injured, maybe dead, friend. "Don't kill me!"

Other boots stampeded, the other soldiers rushing to get below decks. There were more pirates, they knew, and crew that could be being hurt if they idled even a moment.

The door leading to the interior was locked. One of the men threw himself against it, only to fall back in the next moment, staggering and clutching their belly. Holes in the door revealed what happened. Someone inside had waited for them and opened fire the moment they detected the coast guard.

"Jesus Christ." The other dropped to a knee and opened fire through the closed door, trying to return the favor. Had they struck true, or not? It was impossible to tell, and time was being wasted. The man had to advance, and he did. "Stay calm, we're here." He directed that at his fallen friend, still conscious, and shot. "We just have to take out the trash. We'll get you patched up."

With a savage kick, the door gave way, revealing an empty hallway. "Didn't shoot him good enough." A dead or dying body would have been far preferred to the emptiness. "Going in."

"How could anyone even envision challenging them?" asked a refined fish person, sipping tea across from a dog. "It's not even remotely fair... They have numbers... They have weapons..."

"All the more reason we have to stick together." The dog thudded his chest lightly. "Together, we have a shadow of a chance. It's that or, what, roll over and beg for mercy? No. We will protect each other, and fight, together."

"Even together, what are the odds? Can a school of guppies ever menace a whale?" The fish person let out a weary sigh. "Still... Still... I do hear you. To just... give up, who would desire that? Who..."

"Exactly!" The dog reached across and pat his friend on the shoulder. "They are scary, it's true. I won't argue that, because we both know it. But that is exactly why we must all stand side by side, as allies."

"I have a question."

"Mm?"

"Have they treated their allies poorly?" The fish person folded his hands and leaned onto them. "They went to fight for their allies without hesitation... with great brutality... The Seaquestrians seem to enjoy their friendship greatly. Their prominence in our... circles... has increased. Who dares speak against them with such friends?"

"Bargains with devils brings good things... at first." The dog reached for his cup, swirling its fruity contents. "I doubt any will forget how they boast and maneuver, hm... Do you like it?"

"Of course I do not!"

"Remember that then, then ask yourself if you want others to think of you in the same light. The Defense Initiative is the winning option. You'll win good will with others, and have some defense against them. The minotaurs... have you seen it?"

"Seen what?" The fish man lowered his hands to the table. "Have I missed something?"

"They are mobilized, and it is a thing to behold. With the first real competitors to what was considered 'their' territory, they are scrambling. They are pushing new innovations at a breakneck speed, and claim to be fully ready to meet the humans on their terms, and best them on the open field of battle. All they lack, they say, are loyal allies, like the Defense Initiative. With powerful tools and noble friends, we will win a fight if it comes to it. Don't count us out so easily."

"Mmm..." The fish didn't seem entirely convinced, but neither was he as ready to give up on the idea of the Defense Initiative.

"I'm curious." A human recruit was trying to relax in the evening. It was one of the few times they could. "Why the army?"

"Why not the army?" asked his furry peer. "I wanted to be a warrior, so here I am."

"I get that, but you're literally an otter."

"Lutrai."

"Fancy talk for otter," grunted the recruit. "Why aren't you in the navy?"

The otter blinked softly a moment. "Is the navy not part of the army? We are all warriors."

"Uh... no?" He rolled over, looking at the otter. "Dude, really... They are not the same. You're in the army. We don't get on boats unless they're taking us somewhere."

"Oh... Oh."

"Yeah... You had no idea, huh?"

"No." He clasped his hands over his belly in the traditional 'I am floating in water' otter way despite not being in water. "I will be a good warrior. You want to be a warrior too, right?"

"Hell yeah... Basic Training is the pits, but it gets better, promise." He offered a hand towards the otter, and it was met with a furry but balled hand, thumping together.

"My aim is improving."

"Mine too... I couldn't hit much at first."

"Me too." The otter's whiskers lifted a little. "I am Hoku. Let us grow, together. We will become mighty warriors, to protect our people."

"Paul." He smiled gently, flopping over onto his back. "That sounds good. You'll have to show me how you get such good times in the water, but I bet half of that would need me to get webbed fingers."

"That would help," admitted Hoku with a silly smile. "Other tricks. Glad to show, when they let us. It's nice when they let us swim."

For most recruits, being in the water meant being forced to do laps, and was exhausting. For Hoku, it was a time for play. He could do all the requested laps, and then some. They had tried, once, to tire him out, to make him do laps until they told him to stop, but he just kept going around and around and around. He never asked to stop.

Sure, he was very sore that evening, but he hadn't asked to stop. Some said it was likely fortunate the drill sergeant responsible erred on the side of caution with a literal alien recruit.

Author's Notes:

The Coast Guard, unsung heroes really, take care of some business. Others discuss options quietly, and Hoku, our otter friend, does his best.

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