Night on Yavin Four was coming on warily tonight, to Keratel's pleasure. He'd spent three days hacking locks and shearing undergrowth, and two nights holding off the jungle. Now a tall stockade of interlocking timber surrounded his supply crates and his great fire. He rested on a log bench, watching both the fire and the sole way in. A tiny autoturret, barely more than a training remote, zapped small things from the air in occasional staccato.
He rasped a Svolten rhyolite whetstone down his axe with broken rhythm, pausing here and there to test the edge with his dirty thumbnail. It took a long time for the wire of a sharpened edge to build up on metal this hard, but eventually his thumbnail caught in enough places and he switched to the whetstone's finer side. Skewers of fat piranha-beetles hissed over the fire. Disturbed or undisturbed, he would eat well tonight.
Baal Varad
He rasped a Svolten rhyolite whetstone down his axe with broken rhythm, pausing here and there to test the edge with his dirty thumbnail. It took a long time for the wire of a sharpened edge to build up on metal this hard, but eventually his thumbnail caught in enough places and he switched to the whetstone's finer side. Skewers of fat piranha-beetles hissed over the fire. Disturbed or undisturbed, he would eat well tonight.
Baal Varad