It was a cold and dusty storm one i had not seen in awhile.The sign on the saloon swung like a lasso as the doors strode open. “I don’t want any trouble” the stranger gurgled. The doors of the saloon closed behind him and then it appeared he was not alone. Two Novakids stood behind weapons cocked ready to fire. “ We just want to know where we can get some fuel.” The saloon was quiet as everyone stared at the strangers until a small child spoke. “ We keep the fuel tanks down by the old shack,take as much as ya need, mister.” The men trudged across the saloon and as the leader passed the child he handed him a piece of cloth. On the cloth was the Novakid emblem, a four pointed star outlined in a circle. On the back was an old Novakid proverb: Though the dust blows on land, It does not in space. By the time the child looked up to question the stranger the saloon door was closing. The child ran out into the dust, but couldn’t see.He ran in the direction of the fuel tanks only to trip and fall. Lost and hopeless was what the child felt as he lay on the ground, dust blowing past. Suddenly a glowing orange blob was visible through the storm. The man picked up the child and carried him to the shack. Inside the boy fell asleep from exhaustion as man stared at him with glimmer in his eye. Sitting at the table they were the same. Two Novakids,one young one old. The scribbled on a piece of a wanted poster. He knew the child was orphaned and nameless. On the wanted poster read:SMOKEY 10000 PIXELS. The ship captain scribbled more until he stood up and left the shack. The child woke to find an empty shack. The storm had cleared but one began to form in the child’s eyes. Through bubbly vision the child spotted a poster that read: Dear child of mine, I realize that my time with you was short, and I’m for leaving you cold,afraid and nameless. But among the stars I have found a better life, one without dust storms or rain, one without limits or rules,child of mine what I done is unspeakable.I’m sorry to leave once more after I’ve found you again,but I’m leaving you right this time. Son there is millions of pixels under the floorboards of this shack, and west of here is a transport waiting for you. As for your name I’ve decided to name something rogue. Your name is found on the backside of this paper. Goodbye Smokey, Dad x:124 y:-34 Smokey shoved the paper in his pocket and began to dig. After that he would head west to transport. He would see his dad again. He knew where he was going...