Tevun-Krus #44 - Sword & Planet

Hero of Ages - A Short Story by @jinnis

Hero of Ages

Don leaves the stench of his hired cabin with considerable relief. During transfer, the ventilation system blew the fumes of stale frying fat and other, less agreeable odours from the pantry straight into his quarter. In addition, an inexplicable dampness sustains a colony of green fungi in the room's corners. He never took the Angelos for a luxury cruiser, but she sooner classifies as tramp ship.

However, he's done with the Angelos' filth and her cutthroat crew. Today, the rotting ship reached his destination, Libertad, the eighth planet of the Vega system.

Don picks up his duffle bag and checks the dingy cubicle one last time. No, he won't miss this hole, not for a single minute. Halfway out the door he remembers the box with family heirlooms stowed under the lowest shelf of the cabin's closet. Wouldn't do to forget these aboard.

Disgusted, he brushes cobwebs or other unidentifiable grime off the sleek, black carbon case. In a wave of nostalgia he hefts the weight of the container. All considered, he could and probably should have left it on Earth, as he certainly won't ever need its content on this trending planet. Alas, he was always a dreamer, and these items are his only bridge to a mythic past. He remembers his abuelita telling him amazing stories of his far distant great grandfather. Until his father stepped in and called her a bruja, prohibiting her to further spoil the boy.

Don sighs and shakes the gloomy memories. A new life awaits him after all. With a remarkable spring in his step, he leaves the Angelos, ready to explore this strange new world.

~ ~ ~

The white sun—Vega—beats harsh onto the red dirt roads of Santiago, capital of Libertad.

Don is glad he found a place on the shady veranda of an acceptable restaurant in the so-called High Street. Most of the settlement is a weary accumulation of shaky makeshift huts. Only the small centre of downtown comprises solid buildings constructed of the local red, blue-veined sandstone in pseudo-colonial style.

With a wry smile, Don sips his synth coffee and remembers the recruiting posters.

'Become a pioneer in the unspoilt Vega system,' they said, and promised a picturesque, rich planet ready for colonisation. Even the system's name caught his attention. Destiny seemed to pave his way out father's suffocating vicinity and a desperate checkmate situation.

Like the Angelos, the planet fails to live up to the promises. But unlike the ship, Libertad doesn't bother him. He had solid reasons to leave Earth and search a new beginning. If half the rumours are true, this world offers everything he wished for.

Don drains his coffee and places a credit chip on the counter. It's time to look for a job, neither his family's riches and connections nor his pathetic past as professional fencing master and notorious drunk can help him here.

He follows the dusty High Street into the business centre of town. The mustering glances of passers-by tell him he doesn't fit. He urgently needs a new outfit. His black spacer coveralls, practical on board, won't do in a community where males dress up in tight tan trousers and fluffy, colourful shirts. A new haircut is mandatory too if he wants to blend in.

On the bright side, his father's generous good-riddance-check will help to set him up. However, he no longer carries misplaced illusions. This is his last chance to play it right.

~ ~ ~

In a new outfit, ridiculous haircut included—short on top, with long locks curling down his neck—, Don enjoys fitting in. Pretty women in frilly dresses smile at him, flirt impudently with fluttering silver eyelashes. Serious men in similar attire as his own nod in greeting, assess him out with approving glances.