Chapter 219 - Six Moons and the Sea

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It was a quiet night on Onomad. Six moons loomed gently in the darkness of night, casting a soft, cool glow onto the waves. On the grassy dunes overlooking the sea, a singular ship was nestled between two knolls of sand.

This ship was the Wanderlust I. It was a humble vehicle, heavily customised and brimming with personality. It had parts from at least six different ships before - a tubby, almost spherical hull made from a dull grey, with scrapped landing spokes holding it up. A glassed-in atrium was attached to the top of the hull, rows of bookshelves faintly visible from the outside. At the front of the ship, a blacked-out domed cockpit was welded to the hull with white metal. The mismatched wings were haphazardly welded and held on by cables.

On the back of the ship, there was a disarranged array of thrusters and booster engines of all shapes and sizes, strapped and wired on. Some extended a few feet out, while others were as big as a tin can. Underneath the hull, a small crawlspace was crammed with technology and wires, as well as the gravity and oxygen generators for the craft. On top of this attic space were a collection of antennae and satellite dishes.

This ship had seen one side of the galaxy and then the other. Its landing spokes had touched down on countless worlds, its thrusters had powered it through millions of kilomteres of empty space, and through thousands of atmospheres. And it had all been done by the same being.

This being was known as Nomad, and he sat underneath his ship near a campfire. He was wrapped in a comfortable blanket, with only his head peeking through. He was on the dune opposite his ship - overhead, a synthetic canopy was stretched from one wing of his ship to a weathered tree on the opposite dune.

Nomad moved his fingers methodically through a small patch of smooth, rounded grass nearby. This grass contained water, similar to cacti. He had seen this same type of grass in the ocean. Nomad noticed that almost all of the flora on this planet seemed to able to live underwater - perhaps Onomad was prone to frequent flooding. Maybe the large amount of moons overhead had something to do with that. It was all very interesting.

Nomad sighed with reverence and laid down on the soft, cold sand, letting his head peek out from the canopy. Stars wheeled overhead, as well as the moons that floated in the sky. In the distance, a warm sphere took its place amongst the stars - assumedly Yptua, the gas giant nearby.

The fire crackled, and a gentle hiss came from the metal cylinder resting on a grate above the flames. Nomad shed his blanket and took the cylinder with gloved hands, being careful not to burn himself. He took off the top of the cylinder and dumped the interiors into a smooth wooden bowl. The previously icelike insides of the can had melted into a delicious but very simple soup.

Nomad took his time drinking the broth, and then picked out the chunks of vegmeat, taking more care with them, admiring the view whilst he ate. The sound of the gentle crashing of waves, the rustling of seagrass as a night breeze whistled past, and the chirping of nanosectoids in the dunes created a beautiful ambient backdrop.

Nomad breathed in the night air, taking in the beauty around him. He then took another, smaller canister labelled Ez-Tea and placed it on the campfire. Nomad reached also inside his cloak and drew out an old, weathered book. Its cover was made from a leatherlike bark, and its inside pages were old and dusty. Nomad absentmindedly took his tea canister and finished the chunks of soup, already immersed. After he finished his tea, he laid the tome aside and fell asleep under the endless stars.

The gentle morning found Nomad asleep in his sleeping bag, warmed and snug. The book laid beside him, coated with a layer of sand. His tea and soup canisters were lying in the sand as well, cleaned dry by the sandbugs overnight. The smoulders of the fire carried a faint, smoky breeze into the sky - the charred logs had long since been extinguished.

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