War
Planet Okyaab VI - 0330 local time.
The heavy scarred hands that had once held hilt and pistol grips against many now held the handle of a large lunch box as he walked to his speeder truck. His armored grieves pocked and scarred by countless battles lost and won as he ambled along. A thick cloth jacket shielded his heavy upper body from the cold morning air as he reached for the hatch and opened the truck's cab. This was no special day, it was the same routine as any day but he would be lying if he said it felt the same. There were days of late. Days when he missed it. Days when he could smell the carbon scored durasteel and hear the blaster bolts, maybe too many days.
The heavy sounds of the aging repulsors rattled through the flatbed speeder truck and he sat for a moment holding the steering wheel. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember where he had left off the day before, but his thoughts kept turning to a spot in the hills and a footlocker buried deep in the dark rocky soil. He looked back at the dark yaim of the ranch and the pens of animals but he resolved to finish the plowing and start the seeding before it was too late.
The repulsors hummed now as he accelerated alowly and moved down the dirt road that would take him toward the back half of the fields he had posted out to plant. The truck was no fighter but he made good time and made it to where he planned to start by 0350. The heavy machine sat down and the big man climbed down from the cab and walked to his equipment and checked for damage before waking the once war droid and climbing into the open air cockpit. The great beast-like machine stood and as if reading the big man's mind turned and began pulling the heavy row of plows across the big field leaving up turned ground in it's wake. Ordo kept the beast walking in a straight line and tried not to worry about his family over much as he worked. With luck he would be done by noon and home to care for the animals before lunch.
The heavy scarred hands that had once held hilt and pistol grips against many now held the handle of a large lunch box as he walked to his speeder truck. His armored grieves pocked and scarred by countless battles lost and won as he ambled along. A thick cloth jacket shielded his heavy upper body from the cold morning air as he reached for the hatch and opened the truck's cab. This was no special day, it was the same routine as any day but he would be lying if he said it felt the same. There were days of late. Days when he missed it. Days when he could smell the carbon scored durasteel and hear the blaster bolts, maybe too many days.
The heavy sounds of the aging repulsors rattled through the flatbed speeder truck and he sat for a moment holding the steering wheel. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember where he had left off the day before, but his thoughts kept turning to a spot in the hills and a footlocker buried deep in the dark rocky soil. He looked back at the dark yaim of the ranch and the pens of animals but he resolved to finish the plowing and start the seeding before it was too late.
The repulsors hummed now as he accelerated alowly and moved down the dirt road that would take him toward the back half of the fields he had posted out to plant. The truck was no fighter but he made good time and made it to where he planned to start by 0350. The heavy machine sat down and the big man climbed down from the cab and walked to his equipment and checked for damage before waking the once war droid and climbing into the open air cockpit. The great beast-like machine stood and as if reading the big man's mind turned and began pulling the heavy row of plows across the big field leaving up turned ground in it's wake. Ordo kept the beast walking in a straight line and tried not to worry about his family over much as he worked. With luck he would be done by noon and home to care for the animals before lunch.