On My Command

Streaks of pale indigo moonlight harshly illuminated the nighttime environment of Jamaa Township. Wispy moonlight aside, there was no way of knowing where you were going this late. Commander Majorclaws held up one black-spike clad paw in front of him, just to see if this place was really as dark as his boss had told him it would be.

Not surprisingly, he couldn't see a thing - not even a glint of reflected light from the spikes on his wristband. You would expect a lone wolf like Commander, all alone in a dark, unforgiving place, otherwise known as the server of Zambezi, where his father had lost his life, to frighten Commander.

Well, you're wrong.

Many years of harsh abuse from his coworkers and bosses had weathered Commander down gradually to the point where he had no more emotions. He didn't care what he looked like. He felt no love, no pain, and no sadness. The only thing he felt was white-hot anger. He just wanted vengeance on that one animal who had felt the need to kill his father and rob his mother.

One day, he'd find that traitor, and tear his fur out.

But for now, at least, he had something else to take his mind off of these horrible thoughts. Four years ago, he had begun seeking shelter from his abandoned home, trying to find some animals who'd take him in. Give him food, and give him a roof until he could find a quick job to help him get back onto his paws.

After months of seemingly endless searching, he had found a gang of experienced hackers and scammers who were seeking new gang members. They hung out in the bamboo flats, near Sarepia. They kicked and murdered innocent animals, stealing their best items and dealing them out in Jamaa's black market.

With his parents, Commander would have never been so desperate as to join them.

But all alone, without anywhere to go, just a hungry, tired, and heartbroken 14-year old young wolf, what could he have done? He had to find somewhere to go.

But after staying for a month or so, his boss had started giving him his very own dirty work. He started off by hacking a few small things, just for practice. Then, it got to the point where he was taking hundreds of accounts down at once.

It wasn't his choice to stay. He couldn't just walk up and leave, try to find somewhere else where he could locate his father's killer.

He knew too much about this organization. He carried all of their secrets.

Commander cursed under his breath again and again, replaying this fact in his head over and over, regretting becoming a Black Jamaa gang member at all.

"I just wanted shelter... but I was so foolish..." he muttered.

BEEP!

A red light started furiously blinking on his black headset, curiously disguised as a pair of clover earmuffs. Commander sighed. He wasn't in any mood to put up with HQ's agents. He just wanted a small mission break to think about something in his past. Couldn't any self-respecting wolf do that?

"Commander, what are you doing? We don't pay you and give you food for you to mope around, acting like you have feelings and family and friends, like some kind of worthless crap. This isn't a happy-go-lucky kids show. You need to focus on getting this valuable data for the boss, and without it, not only will we not be able to wipe out our next server target, you'll be out of a job, out in the rain, and without your precious mommy and daddy. SO FINISH UP THIS WORTHLESS MOPING, AND MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL FOR ONCE!"

...Apparently not.

The furious-sounding voice sounding out of Commander's headset gave way to a tinny-sounding 'click', and with that, the red light turned off.

And for the first time in his life, Commander began to wonder if all of these years of trouble, murder, and hacking had been good for anything, after all.