"Time for you to go to bed, Holt," Mrs. Percher said. Holt saw his mother move even closer to his father, gripping tightly onto his work shirt.
"But-," Holt began, but his mother just glared at him. That look was enough to silence young Holt immediately. His parents watched as their son gave one last worried look at the sleeping Den on their table before turning around. He disappeared up the stairs, and both Mr. and Mrs. Percher let out a sigh as they heard Holt's door close behind him.
"You'll need to speak with him in the morning," Mrs. Percher whispered to her husband as she laid her head on his shoulder. "He'll no doubt have questions."
"Does he need to hear everything now?" Mr. Percher replied. "I think it might be a bit too early."
"It's not like it's some big secret. You were a field medic, I was an army nurse. You don't have to rattle off about classified missions or anything like that." Mrs. Percher let out a soft giggle, taking a pair of her husband's hands in hers. "Like how you used to when you were trying to show off with me."
Mr. Percher gave his wife a warm smile as he caressed her hands. Despite all of the hard work she did, he found her scales never dried out. "Still though," he grumbled out. "A Terran, all the way out here. And a Fool, no less. I've never known them to be traveling this far out."
"That you're going to keep from Holt," she told him. The loving, sweet look in her eyes had been replaced with one of sternness. "We've already got enough boogeymen to worry about on this planet. I will not be having this man adding to the problems."
Mrs. Percher suddenly kicked at the table that Den had been laying on. He tumbled off of it and collapsed onto the ground, though the groan let out by the stranger told her all she needed to know.
"Is that clear, mister?" She asked Den as he shifted around, sitting on the floor as he slowly opened his eyes. "I don't want you involving my son in any of your foolishness. Just get your ship fixed and get off this planet."
"Ma'am you really didn't have to," Den said. He reached down to lightly touch his chest, then let out a sharp hiss of pain, clearly touching one of his more badly bruised parts. "And I don't know how long the ship's repairs will take. I sent out my distress signal and everything, but that rescue could take a while."
"Sellars might be able to help you," Mr. Percher said. At the mention of the name, Mrs. Percher threw up her arms and groaned before stomping out of the family room. As she turned the corner to the kitchen, Mr. Percher began rubbing at his temples.
"Forgive Nona," he told Den. "She would rather keep Sellars as far away from this village as possible. Can't say I disagree with her, mister-. You know. It's occurred to me. I treated you and I don't even know your name."
"Den," the stranger on the ground answered. "Thank you for the treatment Hollis. I was actually awake the entire time, but I didn't want to break your concentration. Not to be rude, but I could tell you had field medicine experience, I just didn't know how much."
"Much appreciated," Hollis Percher replied, a gentle smile gracing his face. "It's been a while since I was able to do anything like that. But you turned out to be a very cooperative patient."
"Not a problem." The sound of the sink running and pots and dishes starting to clank together came from the kitchen. Hollis ended up peaking around the corner, just to make sure his wife wasn't breaking anything, before continuing to speak.
"How'd you end up crashing? Bold of me to assume, but I had heard most Fools received ample pilot training. System malfunction?"
"Yeah. A forced one." Den used crude hand gestures to emulate what happened to him. "I was doing a bit of recon work. Came across this planet with signs of advanced life. Soon as I clear its atmosphere. WHAM!" He clapped his hands together loudly. "Someone blasts my little beetle with an electromagnetic pulse. Next thing I know, everything's shutting down and I'm crashing next to a mountain village."
Hollis just whistled as he leaned back on his couch. They could hear more noises from the kitchen, and next came Nona Percher with a plate of chopped greens and chicken meat to place on the table for their guest. She sat right beside her husband, and never let her eyes leave Den.
"Maybe not Sellars then," Hollis said, watching the somewhat thin looking Den quickly consume his free dinner. There was a happy sigh that Hollis hoped would ease his wife, but Nona just continued glaring at him. "He's most likely the one that shot you down."
"Who is this Sellars that you keep bringing up?" Den asked, chewing the last few scraps from his plate.
"He's a cruel son of a bitch," Nona mumbled under her breath. "And a foul dog of war."
"Mite Sellars is the Abellan governor of this planet," Hollis answered. He did not speak with much more reverence than his wife had. "He's a bitter young brat that inherited the title from his brat, and he's eager to fight with New Canaan no matter what."
"Not much fighting to be had out here," Den added. "This is the edge of New Abellan space. The most you might get is some bandits or smugglers that'll stop by and give you trouble."
"Sellars doesn't give a damn. He gathers up manpower that he can send to a war front, and picks up scraps from wanderers to try and come up with war machines."
"And he finds new 'rebellions' to quash every few months," Nona added in. "Imagine that. We're nothing but a farming and work force since we started existing on this planet. Yet he thinks we'd want to take him and his armies of mechs on? Nothing but a child who wants to play with his toys, but too scared to lose."
"But you two are ex-military," Den replied. He got a quizzical look from them both before reminding them. "I've been awake the whole time."
"That," Hollis began. His eyes seemed to wander past Den, a look he had been all too familiar with. "Was a long time ago. And it was off this world too. I left. And now I'm back home. Now I'm just Hollis Percher, miner."
"And I'm Nona Percher." She looked just as solemn as her husband as she pressed even closer to him. "The wife of a miner. And a loving mother."
"Is there anyone else on world that I can see about getting my ship fixed?" Den asked.
"If there is, they'd have to be in the capital city. Seldale." Hollis squeezed his wife tighter again, then looked up at the dark corridor at the top of the stairs. "And I think Nona's right. You should probably get out of Lod as soon as you start feeling better."
"I'll leave whenever that Sellars guy's salvage crew arrives," Den stated. It was hard to tell whether the confidence or the words themselves made the Perchers' eyes go wide. "Don't worry. Like you've said. I'm a Fool. I can handle it."
---
Holt couldn't sleep. He had eavesdropped best he could, but the moment he saw his father begin looking up to where he was sitting and listening, Holt made a mad dash back to his room.
What were they all talking about? His dad was a soldier? Classified missions? This sounded like some crazy stuff, far more impressive than the simple miner he always thought of his father as.
And Den. He was some kind of legend. Or whatever a Fool was. A boogeyman his mother had called him. All sorts of questions. He hoped he could find the answers to all of them.
And he knew just the girl to ask them.