Terry Leazule's Story

Terry Leazule was a wee bit drunk, but not that much! He wandered through the woods, between various camps, trying to find his own. It was somewhere off the beaten path, yes, somewhere here somewhere.

As Terry meandered along he hummed a tune from a faraway planet; his home. He had come here not the longest ago, on break from university. One thing led to another, and he was still here! Freelance from the laptop, living remote wasn't rough this side of the 'verse. Now where did he put that camp?

A few lights in the close distance. Far too many lights to be his camp. Terry pondered for half a moment, shrugged, and marched onward. They may have seen where he put his camp, after all!

"Greetings!" Terry popped out from behind a tree and waved at the crew of the Sandjumper. He wore a grin, a rumpled collared shirt, and spiffy shoes with a light wear-crease.

One of the CEF guards jumps, a short yelp emitting from her, startled, and quickly turns around, fumbling for the rifle across her chest. She relaxes as she sees the young man, and begins speaking, as the other guards start to walk over. "Holy-, Brother, you scared me. What're you doing here? We didn't expect-" She's cut off as another guard walks over, a yellow circle painted to look like a sun on his helmet. He looks at Terry, eyeing him up and down, and then says to him, "Speak, Brother, and let your intentions be known." The other guards begin to form a loose crowd around the inside of the fence, looking at Terry.