Sand ran off the brim of Brother Dominic’s planters hat. He had one hand pushing the crown down tighter against his head. The wind pushed the paper mask against his face. There were scratch marks on his goggles that got worse as he struggled towards the crawlers. Late afternoon on Phobos 2 sucked.
The non-believers waited for him in the craft. He gained a little strength knowing that Brother Ruth would be accompanying them. It would be a long ride across the sand lake to the prison’s entrance. Many standard years had passed since he had spent time with anyone from outside the Order, who wasn’t shooting at him. Dominic held his emotions in check. Getting these people’s friend out would be a fight. He hoped it would be worth it.