Desert Treasure

[t0l]

Five...four...three...two...one.

It was officially 823 A.S. on Planet Manhattan.

Tal had purposefully set his holowatch to a timezone of a planet half a galaxy away in order to keep track of things back home, even if it meant that he'd accidentally read off the wrong time to his superior officers. And misread his watch he did, on two separate occasions in fact, both of which ended in him looking like an idiot in front of his men with a side dish of public scolding by Hawken.

None of that meant that this little stunt wasn't totally worth it, however, and a feeling that was probably happiness washed over him for a few seconds, before a gust of wind and a cloud of sand blew all of it away. Whatever, he thought, before picking his carbine up out of the sand and signaling for his dismounted team to return to the convoy.

Back to work.

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