Desert Treasure

[t0l]

He could've had it all.

A loving wife, however many kids the pair of them could handle, and a large house on Planet Manhattan. A nice luxury sedan for the weekends, with a more utilitarian vehicle for transporting their kids around to school and other activities. Maybe even a pet or two, for their kids to play with and for consolation when the inevitable divorce came over the horizon.

Here, once more, was a lonely Tal Ravis, having found a comfortable seat in the sand that placed him well within overwatch of Omicron Delta's three suns, aimlessly milling about, thinking about what just could have been.

His night had gone rather well and he found himself enjoying a good night of uninterrupted sleep despite having slept on a random rock he fished out of the desert, with the exception of a slight pain that crept into his life every time he turned his neck a bit too far to the right. "Oh well," he had thought, "Could've been worse."

With a quick glance of his timepiece, he noticed that it was now twenty minutes past twelve. In backwater, unnamed forward bases such as this one, hot meals were incredibly hard to come by, but by some grace of God, there were hot bowls of chicken-flavored synth gel which were even painstakingly dressed up to look appetizing waiting for him after he woke up at around 11:50. Normally, he'd be forced up much earlier, but it seemed that nobody else cared much about their predicament either. As for the meal, it was about as good of a brunch as he could've hoped for out in these parts, minus the lingering taste of homesickness that greeted him with each bite.

Now he was well and truly stuck with nothing but time to kill, but thankfully, a four-year enlistment contract with the Libertonian Marine Corps gave him some kind of prior experience with this type of ordeal. After having been stationed at a similarly desolate desert outpost on Planet Los Angeles in California for the better half of his enlistment, he was no stranger to boredom, and quickly set up one of his mortar team's favorite pastimes.

Planted firmly within a small mound of sand just a couple yards ahead of him was a spare, bent-up bar of high-temperature alloy, left over from earlier construction efforts in their camp, while his projectiles of choice, pebbles and rocks, were scattered all around him. The premise of this game was simple; hit the target with a rock or something. It wasn't the most exciting activity, but after yesterday's awful conversation with fellow mercenary Dan Wheeler, he wanted to stay far the hell away from any of his associates, eliminating the possibility of enjoying a good old multiplayer game of Spades.

He brushed his unloaded rifle aside, propping it up against the same barrier that he was leaning against, and reached out with a gloved right hand, sweeping away copious amounts of sand before finally probing a rock and grabbing hold of it. Lining up the shot was probably the most difficult part; gravity, wind, and rock mass were all factors to consider while the target itself was no broad side of a barn. After a bout of lining up, deep breaths, and serious calculations, he reeled up and tossed his rock. It tumbled a bit in the air and overshot the target slightly to the right, causing Tal to frown, severely discontented.

He fished around nearby for a bigger rock, not leaving his well-entrenched position seated along the barrier, as maybe more weight with the same amount of power behind it could result in a successful hit.

"God, I'm putting too much thought into this."

First was the line up, then the silent calculations, and finally a deep breath before the toss. With one swift motion, he let the rock loose and watched as it gracefully soared through a bright, dry afternoon, only to see that it fell short of its target by a handful of centimeters.

Tal cursed and fished around for yet another rock, coming upon one that he felt was just right. He aligned the mid-sized stone with the same hole as last time and eagerly reeled up, letting loose a small jagged rock that tumbled even more unpredictably and violently than before. It hit the bar of alloy with a slight "ding", and he instantly raised both hands well above his hands in joy.

"WOO!" he cheered, "FUCK YEAH!"

It was incredibly satisfying to hit a mark like this, such an elusive rod of alloy, and in celebration of his remarkable accuracy he sat around with an extra dose of victory for around twenty seconds before looking at his watch once more.

Hardly three minutes had passed, and upon this realization, Tal let out a long sigh, rapidly changing moods from elated to depressed.

He found his hand fishing around for another rock or two.

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