“You’ve got another message.”
Blaide’s brow raised as he turned back to the shop keeper. Only a select few people knew where he’d chosen to settle after his time in the military ended, and he’d already received a message on his last trip into town. Getting another was unusual. Assuming it was something else from Armyn about his coronation, Blaide’s surprise increased when he saw an official military seal on the outside of the envelope.
Grunting his thanks, he gathered the other items he’d come for, turning the thin packet in his fingers as he left the store. Dread grew inside him. There were very few reasons anyone still involved with the military would reach out to him, and he was sick to death of attending the funerals of men too good to have lost their lives to a seemingly fruitless and unending war.
Stuffing the envelope into his pocket, he arranged the goods in his pack and slung it onto his back. He wasn’t in the mood for bad news. Whatever the message said could wait until he’d returned to his den.
If he didn’t get moving, he wouldn’t make it home before nightfall, and while considered a settled world, most of Jun’gale was still wild. With only one large city that accepted traffic from off-world, most of the planet consisted of small, scattered villages, and people like him who preferred their space. Besides a couple cabins, the town he visited for supplies and mail was the closest settlement to his den, and it was still a good half-day trip in one direction.
Securing his water pouch to the strap of his pack where it was in easy reach, Blaide headed for the gates, giving the guard a nod as he passed through into the clearing beyond. As he put more space between himself and the town, he breathed a sigh of relief. His tail fluffed and waved lazily as he moved deeper into the trees, more comfortable on his own.
There were few large predators in the jungle, and most stayed clear of the settlements, but Blaide kept an eye out anyway, the habit drilled into him from years of patrols. He made good time, following the map in his head back to the territory he’d claimed as his own, using a different path than the one he’d taken early that morning. Spending a few minutes checking his borders, the sun was setting by the time he approached the door hidden in the side of a small hill.
Some people would call him crazy for living out in the middle of a jungle. More would believe without a doubt he was abnormal based on the extremes he took to make sure his den was safe and defensible, and that no one knew exactly where he was. He found the idea of people calling him paranoid amusing, considering he was the least messed up of the men he’d served with, yet a small part of him wondered if he was only a breath away from snapping.
That was the real reason he was out there alone. Seeing what the war did to others, his apparent normalcy seemed more like the calm before a storm, and he was still waiting for something to go wrong. He had trouble believing he’d escaped with nothing more than a few scars, and he didn’t want anyone to witness the moment he finally lost his cool.
Huffing a laugh at his thoughts, he put his things away and started dinner. It was easy to find himself with too much time to think, so he tried to keep to a schedule that occupied him enough not to dwell for too long. Only the crinkle of the paper in his pocket as he crouched before the fireplace reminded him that sometimes the past still tried to control him.
He ignored the urge to take it out, checking on his steak and adding more seasoning before flipping it to cook the other side. Meat and vegetables he could provide for himself, but luxuries like salt and fruits had to be bartered for in town every few weeks, and he was looking forward to having an indulgent meal. He wasn’t going to let the message ruin it.
By the time he’d sat down and finished his food it was well past dark outside. He could hear the Vrolls howling, the sound similar to the wolves he’d heard on Earth, though he resembled a wolf more than the Vrolls did. With smaller bodies, short, speckled fur, and no tail, their oversized ears made them look cute until you caught sight of the serrated teeth. He let a pack of them share part of his territory since they kept some of the nastier denizens of Jun’gale away, and he enjoyed their nightly symphony.
Sighing since he couldn’t put it off any longer, Blaide pulled out the bottle of alcohol he’d bought and poured a glass before sitting down at his small table and digging out the envelope. The dim light from the fireplace burning behind him left the seal in shadows, but his fingers traced the shape, wondering which friend it was this time, and praying it wasn’t one of the three he considered his brothers.
Taking a swig of the burning liquid, he ripped off the end of the packet and pulled out the paper inside. To his surprise, it didn’t have the official letterhead at the top, and his eyes moved to the greeting to see what it was about.
Blaide,
Enemy warships have been spotted on the way to Jun’gale. Commander will not move until attack is confirmed despite intelligence stating its imminence. Other planets are aware but no warning is being passed to locals to evacuate under his orders. I thought you’d like to know.
ETA: 20 standard hours
An old friend.
A growl ripped from Blaide’s chest, filling the small space of his front room. The Commander had always been slow to move on intelligence, causing the death of many who should have still been alive, and it was obvious the man hadn’t changed. How he still held his position was a mystery, but it was no longer Blaide’s problem.
Except now the man’s incompetence was threatening his new home.
He’d taken a risk moving to the fringes of the solar system, knowing the Krantor warships could move on the planets in this sector, but hoping there wasn’t anything of value to draw them to the area. Apparently, his luck was out.
Cursing under his breath, he fought with what he should do. While he could likely withstand an attack and even planetary enemy occupation in his den, the locals would have little to no chance without warning. Many of the people who’d settled in Jun’gale were not only loners, but they also tended to be older, and would need more time to evacuate than they would likely have if they had to wait for word from the military. He hadn’t encountered a single fighter, most who moved to the planet sought to avoid conflict. Knowing the Commander, the attack would be well under way before he offered help to civilians.
Blaide surged to his feet, pacing across the small space as more curses fell from his lips. The smart thing to do would be to hunker down and wait it out but leaving others defenseless left a vile taste in his mouth. His need to protect wouldn’t allow him to stay.
Imagining what he’d like to do to the Commander, he ripped his pack off the hook he’d put it on only a short time ago, tossing rations and a bottle of water into it before unlocking the trunk where he kept his weapons. Ears laid tight to his head as he stared down into the box of death, he sucked in a deep breath before reaching inside.
He ignored the energy weapons, knowing they would be near useless in the jungle where the humidity would make them glitch, and pulled out his old machetes, strapping them to his thighs. Adding a few throwing knives to the straps of his pack and his belt, he took one last look around his den, knowing that when he stepped out the door he may never see it again.
Grimacing, he doused the flames in the fireplace and shrugged his pack on. He’d built this place and could build another, if needed. The people were more important, and even without his team at his back, he had a duty to uphold. The end of his service didn’t equate to the end of his need to thwart the invasive enemy scumbags whenever he had the chance.
With oddly light steps, Blaide walked through the door and closed it behind him, eyes adjusting to the moonlight trickling through the trees. The surge of adrenaline flooding him was an old friend, and he smiled into the night as he turned toward the village and set off at a lope.