Evening Mood painting

"What a forsaken place this is!" Threepio turned cautiously to look back at where the pod lay half buried in sand.His internal gyros were still unsteady from the rough landing. Landing! Mereapplication of the term unduly flattered his dull associate. On the other hand, he supposed he ought to be grateful they had come down inone piece. Although, he mused as he studied the barren landscape, he still wasn'tsure they were better off here than they would have been had they remained on thecaptured cruiser. High sandstone mesas dominated the skyline to one side. Everyother direction showed only endless series of marching dunes like long yellow teethstretching for kilometer on kilometer into the distance. Sand ocean blended into sky-glare until it was impossible to distinguish where one ended and the other began. A faint cloud of minute dust particles rose in their wake as the two robotsmarched away from the pod. That vehicle, its intended function fully discharged,was now quite useless. Neither robot had been designed for pedal locomotion onthis kind of terrain, so they had to fight their way across the unstable surface. "We seem to have been made to suffer," Threepio moaned in self-pity. "It's arotten existence." Something squeaked in his right leg and he winced. "I've got torest before I fall apart. My internals still haven't recovered from that headlong crashyou called a landing."