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“You folks looking for work? My farm could use some extra hands,” Marlen offered, wiping his brow with a dusty handkerchief.
Violet and I exchanged glances.
The universe seemed to be looking out for us.
A chance to earn our keep, integrate with the locals, and not deplete our limited resources?
It was an opportunity too good to pass up.
“We’re interested,” I replied, smiling warmly at Marlen.
Marlen’s grin widened. “Fantastic! I’ve been asking new arrivals for four days and you’re the first to say yes! My farm isn’t too far from here. Got a shuttle parked just yonder.”
He pointed towards an old, battered-looking shuttle, its surface streaked with the marks of countless sandstorms.
As we hopped into the back of Marlen’s shuttle, I looked around at the worn but comfy seats, wondering about the many passengers it had carried over the years.
I felt a sudden surge of gratitude.
Here we were, strangers in a foreign land, and yet the universe kept presenting us with opportunities, one after the other.
Violet, sensing my thoughts, squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Looks like our adventure on Vespera is off to a good start.”
The shuttle journey was short, but the transformation in the landscape was remarkable.
As we moved away from the spaceport, the barren dunes gave way to lush farmlands.
Fields of radiant blue and fiery orange crops stretched out in every direction, occasionally punctuated by clusters of trees with silver leaves dancing in the breeze.
Vespera, despite its arid appearance, clearly held many secrets in its soil.
Marlen narrated tales of Vespera as we went along, speaking of ancient underground water sources and the unique properties of the Vesperian soil that made it a farmer’s dream.
The hardy crops, adapted to the planet’s climate, were sought after throughout the galaxy.
The farmhouse was a sprawling structure with a quaint charm to it, surrounded by vast fields of crops that seemed to touch the horizon.
Even from afar, it exuded a sense of warmth and comfort, standing proudly against Vespera’s tangerine sky.
Marlen, with his jovial grin, pointed towards a smaller house, nestled comfortably behind the main building. “That there’s the guest house. Ain’t much, but it’s cozy. You folks can settle in there. And if it ain’t to your liking, the barn’s always available. Got some fresh hay in there, makes for a soft bed,” he chuckled.
The larger farmhouse was bustling with activity.
We were introduced to Marlen’s family: his wife Elara, a serene and graceful woman with a gentle demeanor, and their three children — Tela, Jax, and little Lina.
Each had inherited Marlen’s warm and welcoming nature.
Dinner was a boisterous affair, with dishes prepared from the freshest produce from their farm.
We sat on the long wooden table, illuminated by lanterns that cast a soft glow all around.
The food was delicious, an amalgamation of Vesperian flavors that danced on the tongue.
Conversations flowed freely, filled with laughter and the shared joy of new acquaintances.
Tela, the eldest, spoke with a maturity beyond her years, expressing a keen interest in the vastness of the cosmos.
Jax, a spirited boy with a mischievous glint in his eyes, regaled us with tales of his adventures in the fields.
