The smell of freshly baked bread filled his world as he woke. It had been years since he’d last smelt it. Mainly because it had been years since he’d last met anyone.
So he took his time, silently pulling himself to a crouch, picking up his laser shotgun and his lightsword, and then moved as fast as he could without giving away his position, he looked down into his kitchen.
Several large hunters were making themselves at home, with his face rotating in one of their holoscreens.
The smell was coming from one of them, genetically modified sweat glands probably…