🚀 go-pugleaf

    Salrak sat back in the air car, thinking.
  He'd been here about a fortnight now, in lieu of taking a break.
 He'd found the Rest, and it was a nice place to stay. At least nobody
 seemed to recognise him, from what he could tell.
   This planet had it's rough parts, that was for sure, but he'd seen
worse. But what he really needed was something to do. He needed to pull
off another scam, or do a heist, or something lucrative and fun.
  Besides, I only got a couple of years left, aint I?
  Yep, you sure do, S.

  He drove around, or rather above, quietly, the radio chattering away
like nobody's business. He flipped the switch and turned it off. He was
in reminiscence mode, so much so that only narrowly avoided a
communications tower.

  "Jeez! Keep yer eyes on the road, ya twit! Yer not goin' blind as
well, y'know!" he berated himself.
  It was nearly dawn at this stage.
 Cigarettes! Out of cigarettes.

   He descended beside a shop called Mirv's Newsagent.
  Walking in, he got fourty cigs and a can of diet Peps-up (Hah!)
  "You got any food worth eating?", he asked, taking out a credstick.
  "Sure! How about some cereal ?"
  Shake of the head.
  "Crisps, sir?"
  Shake of the head.
  "Chocolate ?"
  Pause to consider, shake head quickly.
  "Nah. You get any of them synth-coconut bikkies in?"
  "Of course, sir, how many would you like?"
  "Just the one pack. Oh, and a microwave pizza, all on. And the local 
  newspaper."
  "Ermm, we only have newschips, sir"
  "Which ones ?"
  "Rift Times, Serendipity Herald, Colony Tribune."
  "Times, I reckon."
  "Yes sir, very good sir."

   On his way out, Salrak noticed that the suns were rising.
  He got into the car, sat down, popped open the microwave, and lashed
the  pizza in.
   Something in the back of his mind clicked.
   "Some jerk's been following me!"
   Earlier in the night, he'd seen a Ford Ground Mustang with some guy
in it, apparently hanging on for someone. But he'd seen him later when
that Blue-skined punk had jumped him.
   Now, here he was again, outside the newsagents, just staning on the
sidewalk, waiting casually.
     Something was definitely up.

   Salrak engaged the engine. He was going back to the Rest. It was the
safest place he could think of at the moment.

--
  To those tryiong to get in touch with Mithrandir, do not email
to the Address in the header. It is borrowed, cause my newsfeed
has exploded.  
     Email:tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie  Thanks.