((My character is a trader, so it sort of makes sense she might have a little money. Maybe make a background and you can get some?))
Reyhana Tahan hefted the wait of her now full canteen. Water was life after all...even out here, some thing never change. When it had become clear to her that the desert lands her family had called home for generations were no longer safe due to the threat of the War, she and her family had gathered up the last of the money and sent her to Mars to found a homestead. Her father and mother were too old, her brothers and sisters too young. It was up to her. If all went well, she would be sending back money soon to have them brought to Mars as well, and maybe they could all have a new home...if all didn't go well, she pondered grimly...no need to dwell on that.
She was just lucky the last few family trinkets she bartered to the more wealthy vacationers in the space port had gotten her some Martian Credits to buy some food with, however bitter it was to part with them. Reyhana was desperately hungry after the long flight. She had heard the less reputable Space-Travel lines like she rode in on cut the nutrient rations to those sleeping in cryogenic stasis by half or more, which might explain that. She wondered what sort of food they ate on Mars...
She asked the woman for two days worth of food, and hands over half her credits.
Hmm. Well, it was nothing she had ever eaten before. Some sort of heavily spiced, dry jerky, that came in small strips and portions of bitter, yet hearty tasting bread. She wolfed a quarter portion down ravenously...it was actually quite good. Not too bad for trail food.
Enjoying her food, it was easy to get lost in thought, but of course, she was being careful-she knew that this town was rife with criminals-waiting to take a cut out of your hide. Not too different from Earth at all. The desperation and anger was everywhere, and most of them seemed to be men, angry at her for taking water from a public well that was 'theirs', or perhaps for for no reason than she was an 'outsider' or maybe even because she an Arabic seeming woman that held herself proudly. But, the rifle slung over her back tempered their dislike and desperation with a need for self preservation.
She saw a few others heading into the saloon. Maybe other people new to Mars like her?
Action: Enters the saloon, to take a look the hologram offers, and maybe find some work from the locals.
Author
Topic: The Lone Ranger of Mars (Read 3223 times)