As the rain pattered steadily against the windows, the Devonshire cabin became a cozy haven from the storm. The family and their unexpected guests gathered around the crackling fireplace, steaming mugs of hot cocoa warming their hands. The warm glow of the fire cast a soft light over everyone, setting the stage for an intimate evening.
After some lively chatter about the day’s hiking plans gone awry, the boys introduced themselves. Charlie Jr., the eldest at fourteen, shared his excitement about starting pre-RCSC training soon, much like ROTC programs back in high schools on Earth. Michael, twelve, chimed in about his own aspirations to follow in his brother’s footsteps.
Devon and David, the energetic fraternal twins, grinned mischievously, while Pete, the youngest, shyly hid behind his cocoa mug. Their parents, Charles and Angie Devonshire, looked on with pride. Charles, in upper management at Henry Weedmonger’s company, had secured the cabin for a family getaway. Angie, a high school history teacher specializing in 21st-century studies, was evidently thrilled to host such distinguished guests.
“So, you’re a high school history teacher,” Ed remarked, intrigued by Angie’s expertise.
“Yes, I specialize in 21st-century history and civics,” Mrs. Devonshire replied, her eyes lighting up at the mention of her passion.
Ed leaned forward, an idea forming. “This might be a weird offer, but what if we came to talk to your class? Get a little Q&A going?”
Angie’s face brightened, the offer clearly beyond what she had expected. “You’d do that?”
Spacedawg nodded warmly, “Of course, we’ll do it. It’d be a pleasure.”
As the evening deepened and the rain showed no signs of stopping, Mrs. Devonshire glanced outside and then back at her guests. “It’s getting late and too dark to hike back. There’s a spare bedroom with two twin beds.”
“Thank you kindly for your hospitality,” Spacedawg responded graciously. “That’s very kind of you.”
With the children sent off to bed, the adults gathered closer around the fireplace. Mr. Devonshire, feeling relaxed in the company of heroes, rolled a joint and lit it, offering it to Spacedawg first. “Try this, it’s one of our newer strains.”
Spacedawg took a thoughtful drag, appreciating the fruity and chocolate notes. “This is excellent, Charles. Can’t say I’ve had this one before.”
After a moment, Spacedawg remembered the package Henry had sent with him. He retrieved it and offered to return the favor. Charles accepted, impressed by the upfront taste and the smoothness of the smoke. “Which strain is this?” he inquired, clearly taken by the quality.
Spacedawg showed him the package, explaining how Henry often used him as a guinea pig for new strains. Charles chuckled, “Heard about this one but hadn’t tried it yet. Company policy—non-management workers get to try the strain first. I’m thankful you brought this.”
“As am I,” Spacedawg said, relaxing into the couch. “Henry wanted an honest opinion, but I think it’s stellar.”
The night wore on with more stories exchanged by the fireside, each puff of smoke weaving a tighter bond among them. Spacedawg and Ed not only found a place to escape the relentless downpour but also rediscovered the simple joys of sharing moments with new friends, their laughter echoing softly in the warm cabin.
