Desert Planet 2.

flash fiction. the second in a series.

Jed tapped the view screen twice, and sighed. "Damn hydrogauges," he muttered, "they always lock up when I'm about to go home."

He opened the door of the crawler and stepped out into the fading second-sunset, his boot sinking into the loose sand close to the treads. He blinked against the wind, realizing he'd forgotten his goggles in the cabin. Smacking the side of the bed, the coils leading to the tank shifted slightly and began to emit a faint hum, barely audible over the wind in his ears. Satisfied, he turned to go. Off in the distance, a sanctuary dome sank below the horizon line, and he saw a lone star flash briefly then fade. He absentmindedly scratched the scar on his neck that stretched from below his left ear and disappeared down into the darkness of his collar attachments.

"Still," he whispered quietly, "I suppose there's worse things to worry about." Climbing into the cab, he sat and waited for third-sunrise.