Chapter 4: Guard Commander

The breakfast was the best he had eaten in years. Jerina fussed over him like a mother hen. "Captain Arron, have another sausage, you must have a hearty breakfast it will build you up and set you right for the day ahead." When he rose to leave, she squeezed his arm. "Captain, please be careful, the sergeant is a dangerous man, not to be trifled with."

He patted her hand. "Don't worry, Jerina, I have been trained well, I'm sure everything will be all right."

She dropped her hand and smiled a wry smile. "Good luck, Captain."

For the first time in weeks, as he walked to the guard barracks, his stomach did not rumble with hunger. As he drew closer, a weight seemed to settle on his chest. Things had not gone to plan; he was supposed to settle in to his role as a Captain Second Class, keep his head down, be inconspicuous and just watch. His golden blonde hair and aquamarine eyes in a world of brown haired and brown eyed people sort of put paid to inconspicuous, and he was not convinced that being thrust into the role of town guard commander was exactly keeping his head down, but these were the cards he had been dealt, so he decided he would do what was necessary.

He had cleaned his leather armor and boots the night before. His sword swung at his side, long knife on the other. They had been part of the kit he had been issued with by the Intelligence Corp. At least if he had to use it his sword, being a modern alloy, was far stronger and lighter than the primitive steel swords the locals carried. He rested his hand on the pommel as he pushed open the doors. Jerros, sitting at the reception desk, stood as Arron entered; other guards just lounged about ignoring him. A flash of annoyance stirred in him, since even if he were not the guard commander he was an officer. He decided to ignore them for the moment and walked up to Jerros. "Good morning, Jerros, where is the desk sergeant?"

"He has not arrived yet, sir."

Arron sighed. "Is there a parade ground out the back, Jerros?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, send out some men to round everyone up, I want them assembled in the parade ground within the hour."

"Sir, may I have a word with you in private please."

"Of course, Jerros." Arron frowned looking around.

"In your office upstairs, sir?"

"Yes."

Arron made his way upstairs to the commander's office and pushed open the door. He grimaced as his nose was assailed with the same stale smells as the afternoon before. He walked over to the desk and glanced at the heavily stained chair, so he decided to remain standing. Jerros shut the door.

"What did you want to speak to me about, Jerros?"

The corporal shifted uncomfortably. "Umm ... you need to be careful, sir, with the sergeant I mean, he runs protection and extortion rackets throughout the town, has most of the men in his pocket and is very dangerous. He is the one who runs the guard."

"Thank you for the warning, Jerros, now go and round everyone up please."

Jerros saluted. "Yes sir." Then he turned and left the room. Arron walked to the grimy window and looked out onto the parade ground. From what Jerros had said the town guard were the criminals, and with no Nightwatch to patrol the town at night and ensure the curfew was maintained it was little wonder the citizens had a haunted look about them and the fabric of the town looked run down. Arron sighed; he knew full well there would only be one thing these men would respect, so he had to be prepared for violence when he challenged the sergeant. He watched as the parade ground filled, the men scruffy and nonchalant. He watched them stiffen as the sergeant strode arrogantly in through the gate with two other burly men at his heals.

Arron turned from the window; there was no way he was going to tolerate men such as them under his command, even though he was supposed to be working undercover and not drawing attention to himself; events now on the ground were dictating his actions and as he was alone, the decision was his.

He took a deep breath then walked out of the office down the stairs, through the rear door to the parade ground. The men were lounging about in groups. Arron glared at them and then turned to the sergeant, who was regarding him with distain. His two lackeys stood with half smiles on their faces.

"Sergeant, bring the men to order."

The Sergeant laughed. "Well see here, pretty boy Captain, the men answer to me, get it?"

"And you answer to me, so bring them to order!"

"Now, Captain, this is how it goes; you sit up in your office out of the way and I don't disturb you and you don't disturb me or my men and we will get on famously otherwise..."

Arron felt anger twist in the pit of his stomach, but he swallowed it down, he had to be calm and cold. "Sergeant, are you threatening me?"

"The sergeant swaggered towards him his chin jutting out. "Well, pretty boy Captain, take it as you wish, just stay out of my way."

"Sergeant, do you know the penalty for disobeying an order and threatening a superior officer?" Arron sensed the tension around him increase as the sergeant frowned.

"Boys, it seems our new officer needs a lesson in manners and as to who is superior round here." He nodded at the two men beside him. "Teach 'im."

The two men drew their swords and advanced on Arron. He pulled his own sword and waited. He had been trained by the best swordsmen available and had excelled at it, one of the reasons he had been assigned to this planet. Adrenaline pumped round his veins and the coil of anger in his body changed into something else, something ... alien. He had no time to question what was happening to him. He automatically channeled the strange surge of power. To his senses, everything around him seemed to slow, and he could sense the heartbeat and the breath of the men advancing on him. They raised their swords, relying on brute strength rather than skill as they swung at him. To his heightened awareness their movements seemed slow almost laborious. He raised his sword in response.