Theme
A gust of wind caught the poncho Preef had draped around his shoulders and took it with him on a journey through the evening chills. His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the figure standing thirty paces away, facing him and holding what looked very similar to his own infamous peacemaker. In the distance a Bantha bleeted towards its mate, offering somewhat of a rustic background to the fateful duel.
The figure moved, pulling the peacemaker from its pocket and aiming it at the rodian gunslinger in a quick deliberate movement. Preef hadn't lost a step, his reflexes were as sharp as ever so his hand went up and-
"Pang!"
Preef's hand went for his chest, "Urgh!" he grunted and fell down into the grass. "I've been shot!" He dropped his right hand in the grass beside him, his index and thumb outstretched to mimic the shape of a pistol. The figure that shot him ran closer through the soft grass, his enthusiastic hyper-ventilation somehow carried ahead of him by the wind that had robbed Preef of his poncho. "I did it!" the young voice cried of joy, "The notary outlow stunned by ranger Jon Callo!" The young rodian reached Preef and stood over his aging father. The toy blaster held loosely in his dominant hand, "You are under arrest! I'll be handing you over to Chief Noft." He beamed from ecstasy and Preef guessed that the old Shistavanen ranger up in Andui -Takodana's capital city- would be flattered by his unexpected promotion to chief. He was the only real ranger the kid knows, ofcourse, but that won't bother the old dog.
"No, no please not ranger Noft-" Preef begged, "He eats rodians like us for breakfast!" he laughed, but despite it being a joke the kid's expression suddenly changed from happy to fearful in a matter of seconds, "Why would he eat us?" Preef immediately regretted it and pushed himself up to sit up straight. He forgot that his son wasn't growing up in the same conditions as he had. He wasn't an orphan enslaved by the Hutts and forced to do manual labor in the sewers, nor did he see dozens of different species every day like Preef had when he had been a child growing up on Nar Shaddaa. Jon was safe, interacted mostly his his parents and had never even heard of the existence of Hutts. A good life, but perhaps a bit too sheltered. "I was just joking, Jon-" the once legendary gunslinger said with a smiled as he rose back to his feet. "You think we could still find my poncho?" After all, it was his lucky poncho. The one he wore that time he chased off the Jedi without even having to draw his blaster or the time he managed to survive a direct attack from the Sith Empress. Jon knew none of that, ofcourse, but he "Yes! I saw it go that way!" the kid was easily distracted and ran towards the treeline that hugged the prefab cottages that made the Belching Frog Ranch.
Preef watched him run. It was eight years ago that he faked his own death and left the greater galaxy behind to settle on Takodana. He hadn't regretted it for a second.
To be continued
A gust of wind caught the poncho Preef had draped around his shoulders and took it with him on a journey through the evening chills. His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the figure standing thirty paces away, facing him and holding what looked very similar to his own infamous peacemaker. In the distance a Bantha bleeted towards its mate, offering somewhat of a rustic background to the fateful duel.
The figure moved, pulling the peacemaker from its pocket and aiming it at the rodian gunslinger in a quick deliberate movement. Preef hadn't lost a step, his reflexes were as sharp as ever so his hand went up and-
"Pang!"
Preef's hand went for his chest, "Urgh!" he grunted and fell down into the grass. "I've been shot!" He dropped his right hand in the grass beside him, his index and thumb outstretched to mimic the shape of a pistol. The figure that shot him ran closer through the soft grass, his enthusiastic hyper-ventilation somehow carried ahead of him by the wind that had robbed Preef of his poncho. "I did it!" the young voice cried of joy, "The notary outlow stunned by ranger Jon Callo!" The young rodian reached Preef and stood over his aging father. The toy blaster held loosely in his dominant hand, "You are under arrest! I'll be handing you over to Chief Noft." He beamed from ecstasy and Preef guessed that the old Shistavanen ranger up in Andui -Takodana's capital city- would be flattered by his unexpected promotion to chief. He was the only real ranger the kid knows, ofcourse, but that won't bother the old dog.
"No, no please not ranger Noft-" Preef begged, "He eats rodians like us for breakfast!" he laughed, but despite it being a joke the kid's expression suddenly changed from happy to fearful in a matter of seconds, "Why would he eat us?" Preef immediately regretted it and pushed himself up to sit up straight. He forgot that his son wasn't growing up in the same conditions as he had. He wasn't an orphan enslaved by the Hutts and forced to do manual labor in the sewers, nor did he see dozens of different species every day like Preef had when he had been a child growing up on Nar Shaddaa. Jon was safe, interacted mostly his his parents and had never even heard of the existence of Hutts. A good life, but perhaps a bit too sheltered. "I was just joking, Jon-" the once legendary gunslinger said with a smiled as he rose back to his feet. "You think we could still find my poncho?" After all, it was his lucky poncho. The one he wore that time he chased off the Jedi without even having to draw his blaster or the time he managed to survive a direct attack from the Sith Empress. Jon knew none of that, ofcourse, but he "Yes! I saw it go that way!" the kid was easily distracted and ran towards the treeline that hugged the prefab cottages that made the Belching Frog Ranch.
Preef watched him run. It was eight years ago that he faked his own death and left the greater galaxy behind to settle on Takodana. He hadn't regretted it for a second.
To be continued