The morning after the storm was clear and bright, sunlight streaming through the leaves and setting the dew-sparkled world aglow. Spacedawg, already up with the dawn, had taken it upon himself to whip up a hearty breakfast of pancakes and bacon for everyone. The Devonshires, touched by his gesture, thanked him profusely over the warm, syrup-laden meal.
After breakfast, Spacedawg and Ed didn’t hesitate to lend a hand chopping wood for the Devonshires, preparing them for the colder nights ahead. It was a small way to repay their hospitality before heading out to their own camping site.
The duo arrived at their designated campsite right at dusk. The site offered a majestic view overlooking a tree-lined canyon with a shimmering river flowing below. As they set up camp, Spacedawg couldn’t help but muse about the future.
“One of these days, I might just cash it all in and buy a forest moon or something,” he said, staring out at the serene landscape.
Ed chuckled, strumming a few chords on his guitar. “It’s a nice dream to have, buddy.”
The evening passed in a blur of music, laughter, whiskey, and the aromatic haze of smoked weed. But the tranquility of the night was shattered by an urgent cry.
“Commander Spacedawg!” It was Charlie Jr., breathless and frantic.
Spacedawg and Ed, alarmed, quickly emerged from their tents. Spacedawg guided the exhausted boy to a seat on a nearby tree stump by the dying fire.
“What are you doing out here? At this time of night? Do your parents know you’re here?” Spacedawg’s voice was full of concern.
Ed handed Charlie a cup of cocoa, which the boy accepted with a shaky thank you.
“They took my brothers…and my parents too,” Charlie managed to say, his voice cracking with emotion. “I tried to save them… then Dad told me to find you.”
“Who took them?” Spacedawg asked, his tone hardening.
“I don’t know. They wanted some formula or something my dad was working on at Weedmonger’s. When he wouldn’t give it up, they tied them up and tried taking us as collateral. I kicked one of the men and we ran, but I don’t know if they got away. Can you help?”
Spacedawg nodded grimly. Then, with a soft whisper to his legendary axe, Fyrs-Ond, it flew into his grasp from far away, impressing Charlie with its swift arrival.
Charlie’s eyes widened in awe. “Wow…”
“Don’t worry, Charlie,” Spacedawg reassured him, a determined glint in his eye. “I’ll get your family back.”
He instructed Ed to stay with Charlie and contact the local training facility for backup. Ed nodded, immediately getting on the comm to alert them.
Spacedawg, axe in hand, was ready. He fixed the weapon to the holster mount on his back and prepared to move out.
“I told you, you should have brought me,” the axe’s voice chimed in, its tone almost scolding.
“I didn’t think I’d be cutting my shore leave short,” Spacedawg replied as he started down the path. “But there are kids out there, and their parents need us.”
“What’s the plan?” the axe inquired, its voice now business-like.
“We’ll check on the parents first, make sure they’re safe,” Spacedawg outlined. “Then I’ll use the scent from the boys’ belongings to track them down.”
With a firm nod to Ed, who was already securing the campsite, Spacedawg set off into the night. The stakes were high, but Spacedawg was determined. No one threatened a family on his watch—not while he could still swing Fyrs-Ond.
