The Way It Is

this is gonna suck

This has to be the shittiest ending to one of the shittiest days. I can't see any other solution, though. The bloody stubborn ape of a man has given me no other options.

Blazing blackholes! I do not want this.

The warm rays of the setting sun are behind me, but they do nothing to warm my cold, clammy skin. I walk on, heading into the trees, following the all too familiar dirt path, clenching my cold fists over and over.

As I leave the dwindling light for the shade of the trees, an all too familiar mantra that has haunted me for days starts to try and escape my lips, "This shouldn't be happening." But I have to play my part here.

If it were a different place, a different time, I might have even let a tear or two fall. This is going to hurt—more than I realized, honestly.

But rules are rules. They are made for a reason. If we don't follow them, we all know what can happen. Or at least that is what Armada tells us.

I want to say, "fuck the rules!" but I can't. I am a soldier. I have a duty and people to protect. But that isn't the worst part.

Some dumb ass, or a bunch of dumb asses, left me in charge after a series of unpredictable events. So I have to act like an alpha-dog.

I learned a few things the hard way fast. Some people think they are alphas. They believe they know how to lead hundreds, maybe thousands of people, guide them, help them make life-altering decisions, and believe they can take on any challengers in a heartbeat.

They are trendsetters, cocky, strong, charismatic, and exude confidence in everything. And that's great. Really it is. I am happy for them. Everyone has the right to love themselves. But they aren't the real leaders.

A true leader may have some of those qualities, and they may have what it takes, but they also know what it takes. And that isn't always what anyone, especially me, wants to do. I am not built for this. Or perhaps I just don't like it.

If we weren't stranded on this dying, forsaken death trap of a planet, this never would have happened in the first place. Stars, if I am lucky, Armada will demote me as soon as we get back to HQ.

A girl can hope anyway. Some people claim my inheriting this role was destiny. I was meant for this. Pfft ya right. I can think of fifty more capable men or women around me. Funny though, pretty sure they are the ones that put me in charge. Guess they didn't want to be the target if shit goes sideways.

I just want to be a grunt.

But I keep putting one foot in front of the other, holding a stoic expression, trying to remain impassive to my task at hand. I am a leader and a soldier. I cannot cry. Right now. People are watching.

I have to look like I believe in what I am doing. I know people are poking their heads out of their lean-tos and shanties, looking, checking to see what will go down. I know the rumours.

As I walk through the small group of trees we pretend is a forest, I stare at the dying foliage on the ground ahead of me, studiously avoiding the eyes on me.

This planet is literally on the cusp of death. We were lucky to have found a small patch of green, or mostly green, land that was big enough for our compounds. When my feet don't crush dead leaves, dried twigs, or stomp through dusty dirt, I step over rocks and around boulders.

The humans say this was once called the boreal forest. Apparently, it had been full of life once. If I look hard, I can almost see a shadow of what had been. Almost.

Now the wind, slightly too warm for it to feel natural, comes through the trees, bringing the promise of death.

Shit. I am at his door already.