Markus Guthman placed his GL-417 assault rifle gently on the table. He had seen too much in his life to place it appropriately in the storage locker like regulations state. He took his seat across from his civilian commander, rifle within reach.
“Are you ready to eat?” She asked, standing tall over the table.
Markus shook his head, “I had field rations earlier, I’m okay.”
She slid into the chair opposite Markus and looked him in the eye, “We need to talk,” she said, “about your most recent behavior.”
Markus sat up straight in his chair, suddenly alert and on the defensive, “My behavior? My behavior has protected countless numbers of lives. I hope you are about to thank me for my behavior.”
She bit her lower lip, “Markus, I don’t want-”
Markus put up his hand, her queue to be quiet. He could see her ears grow red, he would have her wrath to deal with later… if there was a later. Right now he could hear soft whispering just outside the door.
He grabbed his rifle from the table and stood. He placed one finger to his lips, reminding her to keep quiet. “They’re here,” he whispered, “find a place to hide.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could make a sound the door burst open. Small, lithe bodies flooded into the room, firing indiscriminately.
“Down!” Markus shouted as he dove for safety.
He caught his civcom staring, wide-eyed, as the attackers flooded the room with weapons fire. Markus hid as priceless treasures and heirlooms were ruined, he could see his way of life coming to an end.
He had an instant, any longer and their situation would be hopeless. He sighed deeply and prepared to counter their attack. It was then that his civcom came alive.
In a flash she covered the space between the nearest attacker and herself. The assailant was pinned and disarmed before he could so much as raise his hand in defense.
She moved with frightening speed, from one attacker to the next. In less than half a minute there were no more enemies for Markus to shoot, they were all captured.
Markus stood from his hiding spot, disbelieving. “Mom?” Markus whispered.
“Markus Reginald Guthman.” She said, her teeth clenched, “You are grounded. Billy, Timothy, Lenny. I am calling your parents. Give me your water guns.
“Yes Ma’am.” They muttered.
Markus handed over his weapon and took his punishment in stride. The war was as good as over anyways. He slowly climbed the steps to his room when he caught sight of something from the upstairs window.
Zipping past was a scout vessel from a long vanquished foe, one long since forgotten. The Aldorian slug people.
A new war had begun.
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