Arvala-7
A hot day in the desert was one reason you didn’t wear a black leather trench coat while stuck in it. Zad wasn’t stuck, not really, but he may as well have been considering how two weeks off from work pretty much sucked.
“Take some time off,” the captain had requested back at base. “Thanks but no thanks,” the Ranger had dismissed. Then the request became a command and Zad decided to spend his forced vacation somewhere he had not been to in some time.
Arvala-7. The name drifted away like smoke from a cigarette as Zad exhaled in the shade outside a cantina. You’re as dusty as ever. Like some miniature Mos Eisley, the town of Kradle was a bit of a stinkhole when it came to villainy. You couldn’t go in and out without feeling dirty.
Some Ishi Tib strolled by the busy street and looked Zad’s way. He didn’t know why, his trench coat was in the shade so surely no judgment there, but he stared back until the guy looked away and moved along.
Such was the norm around these parts. Rewind so many years ago and Zad might have headbutted the moron who looked at him like that. For now all he could do was lean against the wall and enjoy a smoke, listening to the music coming faintly from inside the cantina.
If nothing else, a trip down memory lane meant having a drink at his childhood den. It was this very place where his girlfriend got headbutted for looking at someone the wrong way. Home sweet home.
“Take some time off,” the captain had requested back at base. “Thanks but no thanks,” the Ranger had dismissed. Then the request became a command and Zad decided to spend his forced vacation somewhere he had not been to in some time.
Arvala-7. The name drifted away like smoke from a cigarette as Zad exhaled in the shade outside a cantina. You’re as dusty as ever. Like some miniature Mos Eisley, the town of Kradle was a bit of a stinkhole when it came to villainy. You couldn’t go in and out without feeling dirty.
Some Ishi Tib strolled by the busy street and looked Zad’s way. He didn’t know why, his trench coat was in the shade so surely no judgment there, but he stared back until the guy looked away and moved along.
Such was the norm around these parts. Rewind so many years ago and Zad might have headbutted the moron who looked at him like that. For now all he could do was lean against the wall and enjoy a smoke, listening to the music coming faintly from inside the cantina.
If nothing else, a trip down memory lane meant having a drink at his childhood den. It was this very place where his girlfriend got headbutted for looking at someone the wrong way. Home sweet home.