A View of the Dark

A crackle of static burst from the speakers proceeding the incoming communication. “How’s the view from the lighthouse?” a chipper voice asked interrupting my quiet.

I sat up in my bunk and tapped the comms open. “Dark.” I moved to the viewport.

“There’s no movement across the Madronri front?”

I shrugged. “Not in the year plus I’ve been stationed here.” Stationed far away from the Union’s borders because command worried the Madronri would try something with the fleet’s attention elsewhere.

I garrisoned this lighthouses station alone.

Stations scattered and watching empty space. Watching like a Lighthouse keeper of old.

All I’d found was blessed boredom.

I let out a harsh, derisive chuckle.

“You don’t need to be recalled, do you, Jones?” A concerned voice asked.

I swore softly. I’d forgotten to close the comms again. “No, I’m good.”

The channel remained open, and I could hear uncertainty and disbelief in her silence.

“Really, you just caught me when I was settling in for sleep. I’m just tired.” Not Mad.

“If you get too tired…” she let her statement trail into nothingness.

I thought of union. I thought of home. The world ravaged by war. There was never quiet there.

“I’m good.” Turning from the viewport, I turned off the comm. I stared out of the lighthouse watching the dark. No, I didn’t want to go home. I appreciated the silence more than I feared it. Even if I risked being in the line of a Madronri invasion.